Sollar stepped through the empty, dimly-lit streets of New Frontierland. She glanced left and right, in confusion, at the apparent lack of people that should’ve been out and about.

The streets were washed in a light orange glow from the oil lamps that lined the road. Most of the doors and windows were closed and shuttered. She could see the occasional person walk by, but when she raised her arm to greet them, they’d step around to the edge of the road, to avoid the Demonfolk girl.

Sollar frowned. People here didn’t seem all that friendly.

The Demonfolk girl had been wandering aimlessly. She didn’t know what to do from here on out; the people at Fort Logger told her that she could ‘find help’ around here. But they never specified anything past that.

But then, she perked her head up. Sollar thought she heard something.

The Demonfolk girl remained quiet, straining her ears. She then caught it again.

It sounded like someone was calling her name.

“Sollar!”

She stopped at one of the brick road intersections. The Demonfolk girl turned her head to the left, in the direction of the voice.

“Sollar, where in the world are you?”

That voice sounded familiar.

“Hey, Sollar!”

She remembered now, that was the General’s voice!

“Gen-rall Forr-ar!” she exclaimed, running in the direction of the shouts.

It wasn’t long before the Demonfolk girl could spot the General, who was also running through the streets and scanning the streets after hearing her voice. The moment he caught sight of her, the two immediately sprinted for each other.

Sollar stretched her arms out, as if for a hug. General Forge, likewise, raised his arms.

And grabbed her by the shoulders the moment the two made contact.

“Sollar!” he exclaimed. “Where in the world were you? I step away for a minute to retrieve Mandrel and you disappear for half the day!”

The Demonfolk girl almost cowered at how loud the General was speaking. General Forge realized that he was scaring her, so he released his grip on Sollar’s shoulders.

“Uh... It’s fine, it’s not your fault,” he muttered. “It’s mine, I’m supposed to be watching over you after all.”

The Demonfolk girl was still a little shaken ru.

“It’s... not my fault?” she asked.

“No, it’s not... Where in the world were you?” General Forge asked. “Everyone said you had gotten on the rail engine, but then I heard something happened to it. I had to walk across the whole length of the rail!”

“Oh, that!” Sollar exclaimed. “There’s this Hero-person who wants me! I don’t know why, but he tried to hit me, and I fell off the Rail Engine thingy.”

“He tried to — oh no...” General Forge muttered. “Did he say anything to you? At all?”

The Demonfolk General stepped around Sollar, examining her for any injuries at all. But he couldn’t see a single cut, bruise, or scrape on her.

The Demonfolk girl shrugged. “I don’t know! He just called me ‘Second Coming’. But it’s not my name, so I told him. He tried to get me, though!”

“Sollar, you weren’t hurt at all, right?”

“Nope!” she exclaimed. “I fell on this boat. It was a barge! This lady named Riss-ar helped me get to... uh...”

The Demonfolk girl turned behind her to point at the large hill next to the town. There was a small pillar of fireplace smoke rising from the top, likely from the encampment up there in question.

“There!” she exclaimed. “The Fort Logger. And the people there helped me get to the New Frontier-land town.”

“From there all the way to down here?” General Forge asked. “You couldn’t possibly have walked down, how’d you get here so quick?”

“They put me on a water slide!” she exclaimed. “On a boat, and made me go down! But there was this ghost who tried to get me, so I hit the ghost like this!”

Sollar grabbed the shovel on her back, in preparation to show a few demonstration swings. However, General Forge could see the edge of the spade starting to glow orange, so he held up an arm to stop her.

“Alright, Lady Sollar. I get it, no need to show off to me,” he said. The Demonfolk girl lowered her Shov-ar.

General Forge sighed and brushed a hand over the back of his head.

“Well, we know that the Hero is after you, for certain,” he said. “I planned for both of us to get to New Frontierland earlier, so we could book a fast ship to the Capital. But it’s late right now... at least you have the money on you, right?”

Sollar tapped a finger on her chin.

“The money?” she asked.

“Y’know, the stuff we worked for.”

General Forge paused, then spoke a little slower.

“You still have that money... right?”

Sollar tilted her head while looking at General Forge. It took another five seconds for her to figure out what he was talking about.

“Oh, the money!” she exclaimed. “I gave some to these people. At the Fort Logger place.”

She grabbed the small pouch of coins that was at her neck, and held them up, the coins in them jingling.

“Oh, goodness. You didn’t give all of it away, did you? Milady?”

“We still have some left!” she exclaimed. “I kept the coins that were used the most. Like the small gray coins and the yellow-y ones.”

“Oh, Lady Sollar, don’t tell me you—”

General Forge snatched the pouch of coins from Sollar’s hand, and immediately looked inside. The coins jingled in the pouch, before he looked back up at the Demonfolk girl.

“...Yeah, you did. You gave away all the most valuable coins.”

He then hit himself on the forehead with the palm of his hand.

“Stupid me, stupid. I should’ve taught her the value of money, of course she wouldn’t know what steel or electrum coins are,” the General muttered.

He then glanced back at Sollar. She, again, didn’t seem to know why he was acting like that.

“...As long as you’re here safely, I guess it was worth it,” he said. 

The Demonfolk girl nodded. “Yep! They helped me get to New Frontier-land! They were nice, there was this Snow person named Flake-ar, and Sercl-ar, and Til-ar—!”

The two were interrupted mid-conversation by someone nearby opening up their second-floor window.

“Both of ye, quiet up! I’m tryin’ to sleep here!” the person yelled into the street, before they slammed the windows shut.

The two stared at the window, before General Forge glanced over at Sollar.

“We should speak quieter,” he said, lowering his voice. “No good to attract attention. And we need to find some cash, quick.”

Sollar nodded. “Okay,” she replied, her voice a more hushed whisper.

“Alright, let’s head into one of the side streets. This is a main road, we’re bound to be seen. And I don’t want the Hero to find us. Lady Sollar, please follow me.”

General Forge ushered the Demonfolk girl, and the two stepped through the nearest alleyway. He held up one end of his halberd, the broken bottom end of it, and used the red glow of the spear-like part to illuminate the path ahead.

The alleyway opened up into another street, larger than the one prior. There wasn’t anyone around, either... save for one. General Forge squinted his eyes, to see who it was.

It was a young woman, standing next to one of the many gas lanterns around New Frontierland. She held a long pole in her hands, which she was using to poke the top of an unlit lamp.

After a few pokes, the lamp lit up.

As she brought the pole back down, both of the Demonfolk could see that her pole had another lantern at the end. Rather than the warm orange glow of the other lamps, though, this one was blue.

Her eyes met General Forge’s, only noticing the two after some time. Both simply kept up the eye contact, until she broke the silence.

“Hey,” the woman said. “It’s pretty late, what are you two doing out here?”

Her voice echoed through the streets. General Forge was now immediately worried over disturbing anyone who might’ve been asleep right now, so he instead gestured Sollar to follow him. And then made his way over to the woman.

She remained unmoving, her ice-blue eyes staying on the two.

As he got closer, the Demonfolk General could make out some of her more interesting features. The outfit she wore was reminiscent of a cloak, a dull blue one, with its hood down. She had long, light blue hair that seemed to dissolve into mist down her back. And an equally blue mist billowed from her mouth every time she took a breath.

She reminded Sollar of the Snow Spirit that she met up at Fort Logger.

“A Wisp?” General Forge asked, once he was close enough. “You’re real, right?”

The Wisp glanced at the Demonfolk General, seemingly unamused.

“What tipped you off, the hair?” she asked, “I’m guessing you’re a Demonfolk? And, again, what are you doing out here? Nobody usually stays out late.”

“Says who?” General Forge asked.

The Wisp raised an eyebrow. “Says me. There’s technically no curfew in order, not since the War has ended. But it’s still suspicious to see two random Demonfolk out and about at this hour.”

“And you think you can just ask us why we’re out here?”

“Precisely. I’m a watchman, it’s part of my job.”

As General Forge scrambled for an explanation, Sollar bounded right up to the Wisp and pointed directly at her.

“You look like Flake-ar!” Sollar exclaimed, pointing at the Wisp. “Do you know him?”

“Flake... who?” the Wisp asked. “No, I don’t know anyone by that.”

“Well, I’m Soll-ar!” the Demonfolk girl exclaimed, pointing at herself with a thumb. Her other hand was on her hip. General Forge was tugging on Sollar’s shoulder, trying to get her to stop giving up information like that.

Ironically, Sollar’s straightforwardness made the Wisp smile.

“Name’s Winnsol,” the Wisp said. “Lamplighter and watchman. I like you, girl. I don’t like this guy here, though.”

General Forge frowned as Winnsol pointed her lamp pole directly at him.

“What’s wrong with me?” General Forge asked.

“You’re too defensive,” Winnsol replied. “I don’t like it when people are defensive. It means they’re hiding something. And I’m usually paid to deal with it whenever they make a mess.”

With every word, Winnsol was poking her lamp pole into the Demonfolk General’s belly. He scoffed in annoyance, pushing the lamp pole away.

“Well, sure, that’s your job,” the Demonfolk General said. “But enough poking people in the chest, that ain’t gonna make them any friendlier to you.”

The Wisp shook her head. “I don’t need to be friendly to arrest people. But you two folk are fine, I suppose.”

General Forge rolled his eyes.

“I suppose I should thank you for overlooking us,” he said. “Anyway, what even is a Wisp doing, going around being a lamplighter?”

Winnsol placed her hands on her hips.

“Is there something wrong with a Wisp being a lamplighter?”

General Forge shrugged, trying to backpedal. “Well... no, it isn’t. But I’d expect a Wisp to be working in a graveyard or cemetery. Aren’t you fellas attracted to that sorta thing?”

“Funny thing about that,” Winnsol said. “It’s a bit of a story. Here, you two can walk alongside me. Got a few lamps left to light.”

General Forge stepped up to the Wisp as she walked over to the next unlit lamp post. She held her pole lamp up to the light, allowing the blue flame on the end to light it.

“I actually got this job because the job description said it was a ‘graveyard shift’,” Winnsol said. “Turns out, I don’t actually work at a graveyard. It’s what the Humans call a nighttime shift.”

“So, why do you still have this job?” General Forge asked. “If it wasn’t what was advertised.”

The Wisp brought the lamp pole down again, holding it over her shoulder.

“They basically begged me to take it when they learned I was a Wisp,” Winnsol said. “Even promised to pay me extra, too.”

“Because of your fire abilities?”

“Precisely.”

Winnsol held a finger up, and a small blue flame lit up the tip of her pointer finger. Sollar looked over at the fire, her eyes wide in amazement.

“You can use fire?” the Demonfolk girl asked.

“Of course, I’m a Wisp,” she replied. “Don’t you know that all Wisps can use fire?”

“I didn’t know!” Sollar exclaimed. “But I can use some magic, too! Look!”

The Demonfolk girl let off a few flashes of sparks with her hand. The sparks fell to the ground harmlessly.

“Not too impressive, I have to say,” the Wisp replied. “And you said you don’t know what a Wisp is? Really?”

“I don’t know what a Wisp thing is, but you’re very blue. Like Flake-ar!”

“My name’s Winnsol,” the Wisp clarified, with an exasperated sigh. “And I don’t know who this ‘Flake-ar’ person is.”

“He’s a Snow Spirit!” Sollar exclaimed. “He can make snow and cold stuff, I think.”

“Snow Spirit? Never met one before but yeah, I’ve heard things about them liking the cold. I’m not sure that’s really my style.”

The Demonfolk girl pointed at Winnsol.

“But you’re blue!” Sollar replied. “And he’s blue, too!”

“I’m a Wisp, I don’t mind the occasional chill, but I prefer a little warm and damp, muggy feel. Too cold and the air gets dry.”

After using her lamp pole to light another gas lamp, the Wisp shifted the subject.

“Anyway, what are you two doing around here?” she asked.

“We’re trying to get to the Capital,” the Demonfolk General said.

“So I can meet Luth-ar!” Sollar added.

The Wisp glanced from Sollar to General Forge.

“‘Luthar’?” she asked.

“Her brother,” General Forge said, quickly. “Her brother’s in the Capital. We’re trying to get there.”

“I see. When?”

“As soon as possible.”

Sollar then pointed to the pouch of money that was on General Forge.

“But we don’t have enough money!” she exclaimed.

“Sollar! Shush,” the Demonfolk General muttered.

Winnsol gave a deadpan stare to the two.

“Money issues? Nothing to be ashamed of,” she said. “In fact, I think I know a guy who might help you.”

“Really?” General Forge asked. There was a hint of skepticism in his voice.

“His name’s Strellson,” the Wisp said. “He owns a popular general store. Strellson Supplies, you can’t miss it. You can probably find a decent, short-term job through the information he usually runs across.”

General Forge raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” he asked. “It’s that easy?”

“He won’t do it for free, no.”

Winnsol stared at General Forge, as if expecting him to understand what she was saying. She got the memo after fifteen seconds of staring, figuring that he probably wasn’t getting it.

“Just slide him a coin. A Small Steel is the minimum I’d give.”

“...I see,” the Demonfolk General said. “You think I can go to him right now?”

“He’s sometimes open late at night, but now? I wouldn’t count on it. Not like the jobs he can recommend are gonna be hiring at this hour, anyway.”

“Well then, what should we do during the night?”

The Wisp immediately pointed to the building in front of them. Both Sollar and General Forge looked, to see that it was an inn.

“Lodging,” she said. “Get some sleep. I know Demonfolk probably can’t stay up the entire night. Unlike Wisps.”

“What?” Sollar asked. “But I don’t need to sleep!”

Winnsol pointed to General Forge.

“He does. Fella looks like he’s about to fall over.”

General Forge gave a nod, and right as the Wisp said that, he felt as though an immediate weight had tied itself to his arms and legs.

Right, he suddenly felt absolutely exhausted.

“...Did you do something to me?” General Forge asked, narrowing his eyes at the Wisp.

“Technically not,” Winnsol replied. “But, ah, maybe I might’ve. People who don’t feel tired but are short on sleep usually feel tired in our presence. You haven’t been sleeping all that much, have you? Forge?”

“No comment,” General Forge replied. “Well, thanks for your help. Milady, let’s go.”

“Thanks, Win-nar!” Sollar exclaimed.

“‘Win-nar’? Are we really on nickname terms already?” the Wisp asked.

Sollar tilted her head.

“Nicknames?” she asked. “I just tell people by their names.”

“But not with the ‘ar’ at the end, do you?” Winnsol asked.

“Huh? I just call everyone with ‘ar’, since all names are like that. Like mine!” the Demonfolk girl replied. “Soll-ar!”

Before Winnsol could say anything else, the two Demonfolk immediately stepped into the inn. She stood there, her mouth partially open, before realizing that she didn’t have anything else to say in the first place.

“Huh,” she said. What a peculiar pair.

“From the way that guy acted, he was some General? Or a high-ranking fella? And he’s with some girl he holds in high regard? Sounds like something fishy...”

Winnsol continued walking down the street, continuing to light lamps one-by-one. She did have a job to do, after all.

“Wonder how much Strellson would pay up for that info?”

Sollar and General Forge, meanwhile, found themselves in the inn. It was dark and dimly lit by a handful of candles. An old man was sitting at the front, his attention caught by the jingling the door made as it opened.

General Forge glanced at the door, to see that a bell was attached to it.

“Eh? Are you here to check in so late?” the man asked. He squinted at the two.

“Demonfolk, at it?” he continued.

“We don’t want any trouble, just a room to say for the night,” General Forge replied.

“Well, that’s gonna cost ya,” the old man said.

The Demonfolk General groaned. “Cost us? I don’t see how, it’s late and it’s not like anyone else is coming along to ask for another room.”

“Well, you two are.”

General Forge grumbled, but folded.

“Fine, what’s the cost?”

“Two small steel coins.”

“Breakfast included?”

“Go get yer own.”

That was a terrible price.

“One small steel coin and a large brass,” came the General’s reply.

“Make the change a large brass and two small brass.”

“Large brass, one small brass. I’m not going any higher.”

The two glared at each other.

“Fine,” the old man said. “One small steel, one large brass, one small brass coin. All paid upfront.”

The Demonfolk General fished in the coin pouch for the payment, then slapped it down on the counter.

“Your room’s on the second floor, it’s actually the closest one to the windows. Got a good price on it ‘cuz you was lucky,” the old man continued.

“Oh, shut up. We just need a place to sleep,” General Forge grumbled.

The two walked up the stairs, easily finding the unoccupied door to the room facing the street.

“Why did you do different coins?” Sollar asked, just as General Forge closed the door behind him.

“I was haggling for a good price. Well, ‘good’ is relative, he was upselling us.”

“Why do you do the haggle thing, and what does ‘upsell’ mean?”

The Demonfolk General did not immediately respond. Instead, he simply collapsed on one of two beds that were in the room.

“Just get some sleep, Sollar. I’m tired.”