Life at Rat’s Ass was hardly something to get excited about, but for Kenji, it was more than enough to make him happy. He spent every day inside what equated to an RPG, made a crap ton of money from taking both Expedition Hall jobs and those offered to the guild (every member was required to take at least one per week), and he spent nights drinking with his friends or going out to the city with his party, embracing the abundant nightlife of Duncaster.

From what he knew, Linette was more than content with her position at the guild, while her father was hard work to open up a new bakery down the street. Cleo was right at home with everyone, and not once did she talk about her old life as a Priestess of the Cathedral. Everything was going well for everybody, or so it seemed, though for one person in particular—Amelia—he noticed strange behavior over the course of several days. She was unnaturally quiet and often looked tired like she hadn’t slept. She’d lose focus while talking with everyone, or sometimes she’d not answer a question directed straight at her. But it all culminated with a bizarre action she took that only Kenji and no one else noticed.

He awakened late one night after having a nightmare about Phantom Valley, and not only the guild, but the whole city dozed quietly. Streets were empty and lights were extinguished. The wind curled up against the walls of buildings and overhangs of rooftops, nudging against the window shutters like a thief checking for a way in. The night was motionless, soothingly calm, until he noted the sound of a creaking door, followed by a clunk as it shut, clicking into place. It came from the next room over.

“Amelia?” he whispered.

Rolling to his side, he peered over the edge and found Misumi lost in dreamland and mumbling about some fluffy dog she had the honor of petting while she drooled on her pillow.

Kenji deadpanned. “Yep. She’s not waking up anytime soon.”

Being as quiet as possible, he crawled out of bed and down to the floor, where he tiptoed to the door and listened.

Nothing.

Not a peep nor moan of the hallway’s wooden floorboards, which indicated she had probably moved downstairs already. But why? She never ventured off alone, and to his knowledge she had never been one to embrace the night. She and Misumi were similar in that respect, as neither could stay up past a normal bedtime.

Too curious to back out, Kenji eased open the bedroom door and crept into the hallway, gazing toward both ends in search of night owls who might be up and about, but there was nobody there. Just the hollow innards of a sleeping guildhall, with moonlight beaming through windows at each end.

Next, he set his sights of the stairs. “I’ll figure out what she’s up to…”

Kenji couldn’t think of a reason for Amelia to be up so late at night, but he proceeded from his bedroom, expecting to find one when he reached the tavern. Like every night before, the darkness was uncanny at best, and at its worst, it deceptively tried to convince him there were eyes watching from the unseen corners, but he knew that was just his mind getting the better of him. Being scared of the dark? That was for kids…usually. Kathra had given him more than enough reason to look over his shoulder when he expected the area to be clear.

In the tavern, the haunting glow of pale light crept through the windows, casting long shadows behind the tables, the chairs, the columns which supported the ceiling. Overhead, a mouse scurried along one of the rafters, and behind the bar, a single casket of ale slowly dripped into a bucket laid down by Flanigan earlier that day. He narrowed his eyes and searched every corner of the chamber’s first floor, but alas, Amelia was not there.

“Did she leave the guildhall?” he wondered at the lowest volume possible. “That doesn’t seem like her at all.”

Just as he stepped toward the front entrance, a faint noise muttered from elsewhere in the room; specifically, it came from the cellar, whose door was currently cracked open. Why on earth would she go down there? And that noise—was it a voice? Her voice?

Kenji wandered to the cellar entrance, where heat wafted out as if the oven was baking, and from the stairs’ summit, he peered into the darkness to see a dance of flickering light, meaning the kiln was indeed baking. Shadows danced, and from what he could see, two people were down there.

“She’s not alone? That’s weird. Who else would be up this late?”

Feeling nosy, he made a silent, gradual descent into the cellar, not letting his feet make any sound as they pressed against the stairs. Whatever was going on with Amelia, he’d find out. They were party members, after all. They couldn’t keep secrets from each other forever.

He lurked downward and finally reached the cellar floor, where it became obvious who was working the oven: Linette. Both she and Amelia were working up a sweat, baking items and laying others on racks, while also sprinkling things like powdered sugar on other treats that looked so delicious his mouth started to water. While they worked, a conversation ensued.

“It is every night now,” stated Amelia, wiping brow of sweat as she spread some kind of marmalade over a tray of pastries. “The dreams keep coming. It is like a message, you know? Like someone is speaking to me from afar.”

Linette was manning the oven itself, currently pulling out several loafs of bread one by one. “Maybe they’re memories instead. You don’t remember much of your past, do you?”

“None at all. But I can remember my sister.”

“Then it seems even more likely your memories are starting to return,” Linette answered. “If you ask me, I think you should try to learn more about who you are and where you came from. Do that, and I bet these nightmares will go away.”

It was at that point Kenji cleared his throat and caught their attention, not wanting to snoop any longer, and like meerkats, Linette and Amelia snapped their heads toward him. They were surprised, but their expressions thawed into something more normal.

“Oh, it is only you,” spoke Amelia. “When did you arrive?”

“Just now.”

“And how much did you hear? Were you spying on me? That is most certainly not the behavior of a goodass, Kenji.”

He wanted to slap his own face, but contained himself and walked to one of the tables, where he paused and gave an answer. “No, I just heard you upstairs, so I got worried. Are you okay? Why haven’t you told us about the nightmares?”

Amelia stopped everything she was doing and looked dejected.

“You can talk to us, you know,” he insisted. “We’re you’re friends.”

“Yes, I know that, but…” She gazed into the oven, staring at its warm coals, then reached up and touched her braid, a display of anxiety. “…I do not wish to distract you. The nightmares are frequent and strong, so it is best if I work through them with Linette, for she is awake at this hour and can keep me company during the insomnia.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been distracted yourself. I’ve noticed—we all have. Even if we’re not the best fit to help out, you could at least tell us what you’re dealing with. Would you really prefer that we didn’t know?”

“Well, no, of course not…”

Kenji nodded, crossing his arms. “So spill it, cream puff. Tell me about the nightmares.”

At first, Amelia had a look of confusion at the nickname she was given, but that expression faded as she brushed it off as another saying from his world. She opened up after he insisted once more.

“When I dream, I find myself in a strange facility I do not recognize,” she admitted, gazing at the stairwell while speaking. “There are no windows and very few people. But there are many rooms with beakers and test tubes, and some have large vats brewing what smells like sulfur. I do not understand why, but I walk so slowly, like life is moving at quarter speed. I see everything so clearly. Then there are doctors; I am suggestible, and they put me through appalling experiments that I agree too willingly, absorbing every drop of pain without complaint. But do you know what scares me most of all?”

“What?” Kenji asked.

“I can hear my sister in the posterior of my mind. She laughs at me and tells me it will all be over soon—but I know that is untruthful. She is untruthful. If these are memories, I do not understand why she would allow those things to happen. We are family. And I know I am quite naïve, but I am smart enough to understand that family is supposed to love and care for each other, right?” She met Kenji’s eyes. “Right?”

“Of course,” Linette answered in a comforting voice, placing the bread loaves on a wooden table powdered with something, either flower or sugar. “Family should be guardians to one another, offering love and not pain.”

There were times when Kenji forgot just who Amelia was—Allister Cain’s little sister. And while that witch of a woman was infamous for her experiments on orphaned children, he couldn’t imagine someone carrying out those things on their own sister. It was monstrous in every possible way. Therefore, he had to think there was another explanation, and that maybe the nightmares meant something else, or were perhaps even stress related.

“And the dreams have just started recently?” he asked.

“Yes. It’s been four nights in a row.”

Kenji rubbed his chin and thought of explanations, but she wasn’t the kind of person to stress easily, and the dreams being a message of some kind just seemed stupid. What if they really were memories? After all, they did find her in the basement of Grimshackle Manor and Unknown mentioned that her level was artificial. Could those experiments have been the very thing that gave her such an astronomically high level as a Necromancer?

“It pains me to wonder,” Amelia muttered as she continued helping with the baked goods, spreading marmalade or dusting them with sugar. “What sort of bastard childhood have I lived? Could my sister be so evil? I do not know. But without possession of an answer, I must relinquish myself to speculation. Insomnia will burden me until I find the truth.”

To some, she may have seemed dramatic, but Kenji knew her well at that point. Amelia had always been good-humored, cheerful, and curious, but now she was dejected and drooping with exhaustion. It was painful to see.

But then an idea popped into his head.

Priestesses of the Cathedral had a skill unique to them—Divination—and though Cleo had lost that skill since joining Rat’s Ass, the others surely wouldn’t mind doing a favor for the former head Priestess. He asserted:

“Why don’t we head to the Cathedral tomorrow?”

Amelia stopped, gawking at him with a cocked head. “But why?”

“Because,” he began. “The diviners could help. They helped me and Misumi with something similar…I guess. So maybe they can do something for you too. It’s worth a shot.”

She didn’t perk up, not did she smile; instead, Amelia stared at him as if peering straight through to the cellar wall, adrift in her own little world. Then, she gulped. The realization hit home. Assuming the diviners could help, she would learn if the nightmares were in fact memories, or if they were just a natural phenomenon plaguing her due to stress or unsurfaced emotions. Either way—she’d find out the truth. Thus, with a trembling nod of her head, she answered him with a weak voice.

“Okay,” she said. “Let us speak with the diviners.”