The clanking of the lantern strung to the wall and the still-going dripping of their injured limb jolted the young bard awake, their confusion met with the uncomfortable bumps in the road, their knee slamming back down on the hard wood and causing them to grunt in agony, despite the fact that someone had banded the gash, it still bled, Utgard’s crimson blood dripping down the length of their leg, pooling next to their foot. They couldn’t bring themselves to look at it, they should have followed their better judgment and never have attempted to escape… but… despite the regret they felt, their mind raced back to after the deal, that… person carrying them, whispering to them that they were sorry, it confused the bard, were they apologizing to… them? No- that couldn’t be it. Afterall, what reason did they have to apologize to them? It didn’t make sense to the bard, their mind racing between multiple possibilities, as they decided to give it little weight, shifting to a different train of thought within a heartbeat, asking themselves what that… warmth they felt was. As far as they knew, reptiles were coldblooded creatures, and they found it hard to believe that it would be different for… whatever they were, the warmth they felt in their arms remaining a constant enigma for Utgard, as they sat there, trying to drive their mind away from their still leaking wound.

As they kept on spacing out, the door to their carriage opened up, their guard walking in with their stare fixed on them, those once terrifying crimson eyes now sunken in, their look similar to Utgard’s own teary eyes, as he sat down, looking at the bard through the bars of their cells, letting out a loud and trembling sigh. The two’s eyes met, a drawn out silence taking over as the wheels of the carriage kept on creaking in agony. He broke the sight, glancing at the veil wrapping the bard’s leg, noticing how soaked it had gotten, and looking down. -”...Does it still hurt?”- He ushered, looking back at the bard, who in shame, nodded their head, breaking their own gaze. They were sure that he had come to laugh at them, ridiculing them for their poor attempt at escape, maybe he wanted his own slice of what his leader did to them. They began to shake, pushing themselves away from the bars, more tears flowing down their golden eyes. -”...You don’t speak, is that right?”- He said, his voice back to a stern and deep tone, whilst the bard simply looked up and slowly nodded.

A slight frown could be seen on the reptile’s muzzle, as he dug through his pocket, sliding under the cage’s door a small piece of paper, as well as a chunk of coal. Confused, Utgard looked at the two, before staring back at their guard, who simply closed his eyes, as he spoke; -”Three.”- he said, -”I’m going to let you ask me three questions… Take your time.”- He said, laying his back against the cell’s wall, looking away from the bard as they wrote. Their mind raced, they had a million things that they wanted to ask him, what their mission was, why they had been captured, why they had killed all those people back at the monastery… and just who they were. Eventually, despite the sheer volume of things that they wished to write down, they rounded it down to three words; “Name”, “Why”, and “Warmth”, using the piece of charcoal to roughly write them on the paper, trying to force through the uneasy feel that the rock had, sliding the paper back to their guard once they were done. He grasped at the paper, looking at the crudely written words, turning back towards their prisoner.

-”...You wish to know my name?!”- He yelled out, visibly surprised by the bard’s wishes, as they simply nodded, looking him directly in the eyes. They nodded, their once fearful expression turning into one full of purpose, their pointed ears slightly flickering. Despite their initial astonishment, the guard cracked a faint smile, his expression shifting back to its usual cruel demeanor as they slowly got up. -”Im Ennui, of Cadeau du Soleil, the youngest of five, blade for hire...”- he said, placing his hand over his chest; -”...And like the rest of the barbarians in this company… Shunned by my own blood.”- as he spoke the last words, his voice went soft, from a bellowing roar to a pained wimper. What did he mean by that? Had he been abandoned? The bard then focused on the marking under his left eye… They figured that it must have had something to do with what he had just said, but still, they lacked more information to make it make sense, rather simply kept looking at their guard, as he stood completely still, eyes closed in contemplation, self pity. He then spread his eyes open, looking back at the paper, a grim look washing over his face as he realized what Utgard was demanding to know.

After a long sigh, the two locked gazes once more, as Ennui slowly began speaking; -”...I believe you’re familiar with the cult of the Orchestrator, yes?”- He asked, his prisoner nodding at him, as he continued, -”The curse befalling Hymnfall, and the plague of beasts infesting it… whilst the cults have taken it to be a divine punishment, a test for mankind to show its devotion to their new deity… A select few are still trying to this day to reverse it.”- He said, motioning his hand at Utgard, asking them to get closer. Begrudgingly, they complied, the guard’s hand brushing through the bard’s hair, revealing their ears, as well as a pair of growing horns, jet-black and curled, as the prisoner whimpered under touch. They weren’t used to contact, most of their life they had spent starved from touch from anyone and anything, disoriented by the reptile’s show of quasi-compassion, or at least, they eluded themselves that it was that. Despite their own better judgment, the bard couldn’t help but let their mind adrift, finding a split second of peace. -”Sir Alexander promised us that his research will break the world away from its grim destiny… and he needs you for it.”- 

He said, pulling his hand away from them, as they recoiled, snapping back to reality, Ennui’s voice slowly picking back up, -”We don’t know exactly how he plans to do so, but…”- The guard looked away, his eyes lowering as he struggled to find more words, the bard slowly realized just how much he knew, and it was clear that the risk was something that even he wasn’t comfortable with. Taking note of this, Utgard’s eyes shrunk, swiftly backing away from the bars of the cell and looking around themselves, panic rising, breathing speeding up, just what were their captors planning? Were they just gonna be a small lamb to be sacrificed for the good of many? How could they do that to another person? Their mind raced back to that day, the corpses carpeting the floor of the monastery, the crimson pools of blood, fleeting souls robbed of their lives, the people holding them captive were capable of atrocities, and they were sure that slaying a single person would come naturally to them. 

Ennui looked at them, his guilty gaze meeting the floor, very clearly pained but for reasons that escaped the bard, the very end of his muzzle agape, he was still trying to find words, still trying to look for a way to comfort his distressed prisoner, but it all escaped him, and so, they resorted to the one thing they knew about them. Slowly opening the cell’s door, he approached the bard, who looked him in the eyes as if they were begging for mercy, noting his hand grasp something from behind his back, and bringing it to Utgard’s arms. It was their lyre, noticing this, they instantly grasped at it and held it to their chest, eyes closed, breathing slowing down. -”I was told to destroy it”- He whispered, -”But I know how it feels to have your love ripped away.”- After that, he stopped talking, looking at the last point on the paper and grimacing, heading towards the carriage’s exit. Seeing this, the prisoner mustered all the energy they had left, forcing themselves to speak, ushering out the only two words that they felt they needed to; -”Thank you.”-. 

Ennui’s head rose the slightest amount upon hearing that, letting out a low mumble and walking out of the carriage, as the bard grasped at their throat, coughing wildly.

…

-”I hope you realize how grave the treason you’ve committed truly is, brute.”- a feminine voice spoke, being met with a grunt of annoyance from her fellow mercenary. -”Sir Alexander’s carriage is way ahead, the tune of a single instrument won’t be enough to get to his ears.”- he stated, shifting his attention away from her and to his weapon, using a wet piece of cloth to wash away hardened blood stains from it. -”For someone who’s failed at his job already, I'd expect less sass.”- She said, grasping his face and forcing him to look directly at her in the eyes. -”I believe you should worry about your own problems, Valentina.”- Ennui growled, breaking away from her grasp. He despised talking to her, her holier-than-thou demeanor, her constant nagging, she saw herself as the pinnacle of justice despite being just another run of the mill mercenary, and what? Because of the armor she wears? If he could, he’d just laugh at her badly hidden sense of misery. But alas, he could do much more without a rapier through his eye, so he simply looked away. -”Your inability to follow basic orders is my problem.”- She yelled out, hand on her weapon, glaring daggers at her underling, who simply kept his eyes fixed on the road. -”If you want me to stop interacting with the prisoner, you could at the very least get Caradoc to check their wounds.”- He spoke, refusing to look at her as his request was simply met with a sigh. 

…

Utgard stood still, sat against the cell’s wall, pondering on what Ennui had told them, how they had ignored their last question, they kept on wondering just how much he was hiding from them, as a knock on the carriage’s door caught their attention. A robed figure walked in, their hair wavy and black, their complexion dark and their eyes a freezing azure, as they slowly approached the cage’s door. –”...Y-you must be the bard, am I correct?”- his voice was shaky, fearful, their tone giving away that they must have been very young. He brushed hair away from his face, noticing the bard nod and opening the cage’s door, walking towards them and kneeling down. He slowly undid their bandage, revealing the poor state that the prisoner’s leg had gotten to, he bit his lip, looking at the wound and setting down a bag. 

-”A-alright, this’ll hurt a bit…”- He said, his stuttering continuing, as the bard curiously watched his actions. He swiftly took a vial out of the bag, smearing its contents over the exposed wound. It burnt, but despite that, Utgard grit their teeth, trying to resist the urge to yell. After a while, the robed individual posed their hand, which was protected by a metallic gauntlet, over the wound, taking deep breaths, as they slowly began to hum, a green light enveloping the prisoner’s leg, the pain of the wound and the blood’s dripping slowly stopping, the burn of the liquid dissipating. Once the humming stopped, the figure lifted their hand, revealing that the wound had been completely healed, aside from a decently sized scar, serving as a reminder to them of what they had done. He sighed, grasping the bag and getting back up, looking away from the bard. They hurried back out of the carriage, still trembling for reasons completely unbeknownst to Utgard, a single black feather falling from their robe.