As the townsfolk were gathered at the Helcharaes river, saying farewell to their fallen loved ones travelling to the place Beyond the Ice, no one noticed that The Silvertail, Wint the Fishmonger’s fishing vessel, had been anchored at the harbor and shuttered up.

In the following weeks people would learn that the crew had been let go and would be working on different boats. Hunt one down and the consensus was that they didn’t know why Wint had shuttered the enterprise, only that they were given no notice. There wasn't even the courtesy of a parting fee for their broken contracts.

At the same time The Silvertail was put out of commission, all the remaining staff at the Two-Headed Trout were let go. Again, no notice. Curious townsfolk would learn that the lien on the property had expired and that it was now under the control of the Winterfist Bank, who operated solely in Stitchdale.

Nay was probably the first person in Lucerna’s End to know what was happening. After all, she had received a prompt.

---

[Quest Complete!]

[Destroy The Two-Headed Trout Completed!]

[Congratulations!]

[You have been rewarded with Vigor Points]

---

No one noticed the black carriage pulled by half a dozen mangy fauglir leave the edge of town under the cover of night, and no one had the misfortune of sharing unpleasantries with Wint or either of his children again.

For Lucerna’s End, it was as if a boil had been lanced. And once the boil was gone, people were happy to forget about it and the inconvenience and discomfort it had caused.

/////////

Nay took it upon herself to deliver tea to the Gloom Rangers who had gathered in Martygan’s room. She rolled in the cart and Lain turned from the window and smiled at her arrival.

“Nay,” Lain said. “What a pleasant surprise! And you’ve brought tea! What kind is it this time?”

“We have a few options,” Nay said. “As per usual, there’s some pepper tea if you need some extra perk. But there’s also some rimefrost tea, if you want to feel hydrated and refreshed, and then there’s bristlecone pine, which I’m told has even more off an edge than the pepper tea.”

“Rimefrost for me,” Lain said.

The other two Gloom Rangers with her were the other healers sent from Fort Nixx. They wore similar garb to Lain, that same mixture of leather armor with fashion flourishes that bespoke of the wilderness.

There was Jacob, a younger Ranger who made Nay think of a kid in highschool who had just attained Eagle Scout. He had a mane of yellow hair and a dimple on his chin. Nay kept thinking he had sort of a blonde Travolta vibe. He was like the eager conservative medic in a platoon of Vietnam soldiers.

“I’ll have the bristlecone pine,” Jacob said. He smiled at Nay. “I like things that have an edge.”

Then there was Gull, an older woman with silver hair. Her face had creased lines, probably from constantly frowning. Though she was a healer, she exuded a coldness and an adherence to the law of things rather than the spirit. Like everything must absolutely be done by the book.

Gull declined tea.

“How’s he doing?” Nay asked.

“He’s stable,” Lain said, “but –“

“But his condition defies us,” Gull said, cutting her off. “Which is why we need to get him back to the Fort where we can conduct further studies on him under observation.”

“Nothing stops us from doing that here,” Lain said.

“Except none of us are versed in the type of curses or wounds or ailments that can be inflicted by a being from the Nether Realms upon a person,” Gull said. “At the Fort we can consult with the Loremaster Avery. It’s what would be best for Martygan.”

Lain acquiesced. She couldn’t really argue with her. The older healer was right even if her delivery rubbed people the wrong way.

“Whatever ails him stays hidden from my sight,” Lain said. Nay suspected she was referring to her abilities that allowed her to see illnesses and wounds and be able to get a magically-extracted diagnosis, a magical scan off what ailed a person’s biology.

Gull stood. “I will inform Captain Cassius that we must transport Martygan back to Fort Nixxiom.”

She exited the room.

When she was gone, Jacob remarked on her manner. “Well. There we have it, I suppose.”

“I don’t envy you having to have her as a travel companion,” Lain said.

“She’s not so bad,” Jacob said. “What she lacks in social graces she makes up for in wisdom.”

“That’s what I find so frustrating,” Lain said, under her breath.

Nay couldn’t help but observe Martygan. His chest slowly rose and fell and the look on his pale face was utter calm, like a wild prince who had fallen under a sleeping spell. “The way you two fought,” Nay said.

Lain smiled. “We’re Marrow Eaters. It’s what we’ve been trained to do as Gloom Rangers.”

“It was something to see,” Nay said.

“They’re Bronze Rank Marrow Eaters,” Jacob said, correcting Lain. “They can do things that look like they defy the laws of nature. That’s what cultivators do. Defy and transcend.” At that last bit, he articulated with his hands and almost knocked over his tea. “Whoops.”

“The offer still stands,” Lain said. “You have naturally increasing vigor. You could train to become a Marrow Eater and a Gloom Ranger if you wanted to.”

Nay was intrigued by the idea. Could she too fight like that if she consumed a Delicacy that opened up a combat skill tree? Part of her was excited by it, but she didn’t see herself as a magically enhanced monster slayer. Although, admittedly, it could be useful to at least have some combat abilities so some psychopath doesn’t crush her hand again.

“A Gloom Ranger?” Nay said. “That’s a little intense for me. I prefer cooking.”

“The world needs good cooks,” Jacob said. “I still can’t get over that meat pie the other night. What was it called again?”

“Shepherd’s Pie,” Nay said.

“Absolutely satisfying, that,” Jacob said. He took a sip of his tea and exhaled, whistling. “This bristlecone pine is good stuff.”

“Well, I should be getting back to the kitchen,” Nay said. “Just wanted to stop by for the update and to give you some afternoon tea.”

“Here, I’ll see you out,” Lain said.

Before Nay exited, Jacob stammered, finally spitting out, “If you ever get a chance, you should come to the Fort and cook for us Rangers. As militaristic as it might sound, the Fort is actually a beautiful place. Best view in the Spineshards. And we always have fresh wild game.”

“If I ever visit the Fort,” Nay said, “I will call on you specifically to give me a tour.”

Jacob smiled at that and leaned back, cradling his tea. “Then I shall look forward to your visit.”

In the hallway, Lain shut the door so Jacob couldn’t hear. She stood close to Nay and whispered, “You should be careful, Nay.”

“Of course,” Nay said. “Always.”

“No, I mean…I don’t think any of this is over. I can feel it. There’s something happening in the Nether Realm and I don’t fear that it’s done with Stitchdale.”

Nay stared at her. She could feel it too. A sense of dread deep down in her stomach. A lingering worry in the back of her mind.

She accessed her quest log and gasped.

[Boss Battle]

[Nether Sister]

Why was the quest still there? It wasn't completed.

"What is it?" Lain said. "What's wrong?"

"Do you think it's possible the witch is still alive?" Nay said.

"It would be hard to survive a Celestial Bolt...but there's always a possibility I suppose."

Lain reached into her cloak and pulled out a sea-shell the color of a glacier. She put it in Nay’s hands. “If trouble comes again, use this.”

“What is it?”

“Something that will call me to your side,” Lain said. “But, it can only be used once. So make sure you absolutely need my aid before you use it. If you’re absolutely sure, then do not hesitate.”

/////////

Later that day, Nay had pulled the sea-shell Lain gifted her out of her inventory. As she stared at it, she accessed the gift’s description.

Nautilus of Teleportation. The cephalopod shell of a cerulean mollusk. It has been imbued with vigor by a Marrow Eater Trinket Maker. Whisper the name of the person the Trinket Maker recorded inside the shell and it will teleport them to the location of the caller. This nautilus has the recorded name of one ‘Lainya Elkstar’.

“Well, that’s fucking neat,” Nay said.

She put it back into her inventory with the other loot she had categorized as ‘cool and crazy shit’.

/////////

Nay was out back behind the Lodge, drinking a hot cider, working on some recipes in her notebook, when Bryja came through the back door.

“Got a minute to talk, chef?”

In mid-scribble, Nay said, “Sure, what’s up?”

The chillwind faun shifted from hoof to hoof, exuding awkwardness. “Alright, I don’t know how to say it so I’m just going to say it.”

Nay put down her pencil.

“Thank you for helping save my brother,” Bryja said. “I heard you were part of the group that took down those monsters.”

Nay was a little surprised to hear this. She had left the Lodge that night to look for Nom and the Marrow. Everything that happened after was just happenstance.

“I was there,” Nay said, “but I didn’t really do anything that someone else wouldn’t have done if they were there. It was the Gloom Rangers and Quincy that did most of the fighting.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Bryja said. “But still, you were there. You put yourself in danger and risked your life to save my brother.”

“Wait. Back up for a minute. What did you hear exactly?”

“Folks be saying you had some magical trinket that helped Quincy find the she demon hiding in the Nether Realms. That you were the one that used it and shined a light into the darkness.”

She remembered the Mirkwood Eye. That’s what she was talking about. But how did she know? Who had been spreading the story? She couldn’t see Quincy or Lain or even Nom telling anyone about that night. It was still too raw, too fresh. They had all almost died.

Which had left Jolf, one of the town’s sheriffs.

It was definitely him who had recounted the skirmish, the battle, whatever one would call that whole encounter, to the captivated townsfolk.

“We were all just trying to stay alive that night,” Nay said. “It wasn’t any heroics. Except for the Rangers and Quincy. Heck, even Nom. I was just a scared girl.”

“I also heard you stabbed the she demon in the neck.”

“Bitch deserved it.”

Bryja started laughing. It was contagious. Nay started laughing, too.

Then Bryja’s laughter turned into tears and she hugged Nay. She whispered in her ear, “Thank you.”

/////////

Nay had trouble sleeping, so she had taken the boat and rowed to the glade. She had wound the ropes around her wrists and hands and she was dragging the sled through the snow.

Memories of the terror that night flashed through her head as she pulled the sled around the glade. The tadpole things. The tode. The woman from the Nether Realms. And Mishell.

The crew tasked with locating and retrieving bodies in the aftermath of the monster attack hadn’t found Mishell.

Which either meant she was dead and hidden somewhere. Or she had been devoured by the tadpole dogs and her body was digested in the bellies of a pack of monsters.

Or neither of those things happened and she had survived.

This possibility was one of the things that kept Nay from sleeping. If Mishell had survived, then it was apparent she had probably left Lucerna’s End.

Nay collapsed from exhaustion, her heart racing, her lungs on fire. She had managed to pull the sled for thirty minutes this time. Beating her old time by ten minutes.

Nay wanted to be ready for the day Mishell returned to Lucerna’s End.

And should they meet again, she wasn’t going to run this time.

She would fight.