Silently, Tristessa was finishing the last pieces of boiled beef and potatoes left on her plate. She still wasn't used to the chewy consistency and strong flavor of the meat in that world, or at least the species she'd tried.
"A little bit of vegetables wouldn't hurt this stew," she thought, with several recipes memorized and undoubtedly wanting to recreate them with Nekrom's ingredients. "Onions and peppers, even a little seasoning…"
Completely oblivious to the conversation of the Fireclaw Company mercenaries, she had taken a closer look at the interior of the Outpost, now that she wasn't in the middle of a negotiation to save her life after, once again, being suspected of being a witch of the Coven.
That courtyard was large enough to house dozens and dozens of carriages and wagons, with three parallel streets circumnavigating the tower and connected to the four entrances in the cardinal directions, allowing continuous traffic in keeping with the region's long-standing need. These entrances looked as dilapidated as the southern one, their gates destroyed and debris scattered everywhere, leading to the darkness of the Meridion highways.
The razed tower in the center of the plaza had surely served not only as a lookout tower to observe the plains for great distances in all directions, but also as an administrative center for traffic and passage between the trade routes.
Watching the two hornless demons who were in charge of pulling Madame Luchie's wagons, Tristessa noticed that they were sleeping on the burned remains of old tents—the resting and lodging places for visitors and soldiers.
"What's wrong, Miss Irandell?" the one called Melian asked her, noticing that she was staring blankly at the large creatures. "Tay and May won't do anything to you; without their horns, they're quite docile. Isn't that right, boss?"
Reiden had just returned from his patrol, which consisted of circling the outer edge of the outpost's walls, then circling the inner edge again.
"Indeed. There's nothing to fear," he replied, standing with both hands clasped at waist level and resuming his nightly habit of observing Tristessa with suspicious eyes.
"I-it's not that… I was just thinking about how this whole region fell into disgrace," she explained, catching the others' attention. "I was told that in the time of the royalty, this place and the roads were very busy. Seeing everything so empty now is…"
"It's one of the consequences of the Eternal War," Karla took it upon herself to answer. She was still smoking, enjoying the peace that listening to her employees brought her. "The demand for wood and food was permanently focused on the north. It was cheaper, less logistical costs, and easier to feed soldiers."
"I see… The war against the Shadow Queen forced the abandonment of all of southern End-World." Thinking about it, and all the gloomy, dark background, took away what little appetite she had left. "Thank you for the food."
Tristessa couldn't imagine what calamities were happening in the northern part of the continent, only hearing the testimonies of people who had known hell. Severus had warned her about the cruel times that world was going through; she would never be able to forget his words spoken in that nonexistent past.
Words that said she wasn't prepared for Nekrom and its horrors.
"How do you plan to pay?" the old woman asked, snapping her out of her train of thought. Tristessa looked at her in confusion, causing Karla to sigh. "Food, child. And I won't accept that lucky soul-jewel of your, hmm?"
"But aren't you...?! Ah, damn it." She looked down at backpack at her feet, which was devoid of goods that could interest Madame Luchie. "Well, I... huh?"
Feeling the pockets of her trench-coat to prepare admitting she was broke, Tristessa found something that definitely wasn't there when she left the Mercer-Archeos House. She checked her right pocket and found a small cloth bag containing three jewels similar to the one that Farross had vomited at her feet, only these ones glowed golden.
"How come...? Jin!" Smiling to herself, Tristessa recalled the hug she'd given the hunter. If he hadn't placed that bag in her pocket at that moment, she had no idea how. "Would this be enough?"
Tristessa tossed one of the glowing spheres to the old woman, who caught it nimbly, given her decades of experience.
"Well, well... Yes, that's a good deal."
Cackling, Karla slipped the jewel into her pocket and gave the awkward gray-eyed girl a cunning smile.
"Miss Irandell," Reiden called her attention. "There's something that troubles me… You said you wanted to save that outcast family from an attack they were about to suffer at the hands of the Coven. How do you know that?"
"That's a good question," added Lufreya, who had taken over the task of cleaning the plates and cutlery, while Dom and Bran took care of the cauldron with the leftover food and made sure the bonfire would burn all night. "Did you spy on the witches during one of their blasphemous rituals or something?"
Just thinking about the answer, unconsciously ordering the words in her head, Tristessa relived in fleeting seconds the entire nightmare that haunted her through two timelines.
"…I was a victim of the Coven. I saw and heard everything they planned for that family," she replied, the darkness in her voice tainted also with truth. She looked up to meet the distrustful eyes of the mercenary leader, unable to be intimidated as the image of the Priestess of the Black Eye dominated her memories. "They must die, every single one of those lunatics… They must all die!"
Her words were spoken with all the hatred she could muster. Remembering the witches' laughter, those broken and lost souls, all that madness that made them resistant to feeling empathy or pity for others… And remembering the pain of her severed leg, Daiana's inhuman cruelty, and the taste of her rotten tongue invading her mouth…
It was a disease within her body; a cancer she couldn't expiate by pushing the horrible memories into the darkest depths of her mind.
"I see… I won't ask for further details. You are undoubtedly someone who knows Death, I see it in your eyes," Reiden said, his cold, calculating gaze contemplating farther than Tristessa could. "When you arrive in Entrana, I recommend you try to secure an audience with Lady Aurelia Eramisaptor at all costs. You have invaluable information about the Coven that the lady of the Dominion will appreciate. And I wouldn't rule out the possibility of enlisting her help in saving the Mercer-Archeos family, even though… Well, you should know, being close to them."
"Yes… It was she, Lady Eramisaptor, who banished them."
Tristessa's main objective upon arriving in Entrana was to find Severus and seek his help and guidance. She hadn't thought about the afterward, given her complete lack of knowledge in more ways than one way, and if that veteran mercenary recommended that course of action, of course she would consider it.
Any kind of help was more than welcome for a girl in such a desperate situation, where the lives of several were at risk and she knew the inevitable date of their deaths…
"Years ago, I would have escorted you myself just to have a chance to take the Coven by surprise," Reiden added, his appearance imposing, and the light from the Twin Moons shining on the plates of his light armor. Even the most inexperienced—someone like Tristessa—could notice the aura surrounding him; an aura of power and grace, which years ago would have meant one thing: they were in the presence of a hero. "But I'm past my prime. Now I'm only useful protecting Madame Luchie."
"And I pay you handsomely for it!" the woman in question exclaimed, laughing and coughing because of the smoke. "Don't even think about abandoning me for a younger lady, eh, Reiden?"
"The chief is too honorable to do such a thing!" Bran mocked from a distance, where he was watching over the lesser vilecrosses to make sure they didn't fight while they ate the leftovers.
"If the chief leaves, I want his pay," Dom added, as he carried a large pile of firewood.
"Why do you want more money, to spend it in taverns and brothels?" It was Melian's turn, who crouched down beside the helmeted woman to help her clean up.
"Aren't you the one you're talking about?" Lufreya playfully shoved him with her shoulder, making the messy-black-haired mercenary blush.
"Don't betray me like that, Lu!"
His colleagues burst into laughter, and even Reiden made a gesture similar to a small smile. Madame Luchie quietly enjoyed the atmosphere, finding peace in the company of her employees.
Only Tristessa remained silent, immersed in a silence so brutal that the mercenaries' laughter could only be heard in the distance.
All the warmth she had accumulated thanks to dinner was lost forever in the face of the entropic and painful cold she began to feel, flowing from her Baptism in Ruins.
"Ah...ah...!"
Breathing hurt. Each inhalation and exhalation felt like a spear made of ice piercing her chest and simultaneously freezing her lungs, leaving them frostbitten, cracking, and on the verge of splitting into pieces…
Enormous terror, covering her heart and announcing that something was approaching, lurking in the darkness of the night.
The first to notice something was wrong was Reiden, who hadn't taken his eyes off her all night.
"What's wrong with you?" The veteran man crouched down beside her, utterly dismayed to see her breathing so heavily, her bloodshot eyes wide open. "Tell me what's wrong!"
The mercenaries and Madame Luchie also focused their attention on the two of them. But no one felt the soul-freezing cold and the fear that could stop a heartbeat. Only Tristessa, whose paranoid gaze fixed on the eastern entrance to Derelict Outpost: a stone archway with no iron gate or defenses to keep out the dense, abysmal darkness.
"S-She...!"
The black-haired girl pointed toward the thick miasma beginning to spread across that section of the courtyard with a trembling index finger. The vilecrosses, both large and small, quickly went on alert, their savage growls directed in the same direction.
"It's her!" Tristessa shrieked. "She has come for me!"