Whurel stepped into the inn at the crossroads, his eyes immediately scanning the interior. The open shutters allowed sunlight to stream in, illuminating the few patrons present. They all turned their attention to the intimidating warrior as he entered. Most of them were busy eating, but a few, despite the early hour, indulged themselves with mugs of beer. Their hushed conversations came to a halt.

His focus was drawn to a dark corner that remained untouched by the light, indicating the presence of his friend. Without a word, Whurel made his way toward the illusion, crossing the threshold and taking a seat across from the bald man. The man paused while cutting his roasted meat using a knife and clumsily made fork.

"Where is the boy?" Heb asked, frowning while leaning slightly in his chair to peer over Whurel's towering frame.

"There was a complication," the warrior replied, meeting the archmage's gaze.

"A complication?" raised eyebrows appeared on the mage's forehead.

"The Imperials got there before me," Whurel informed, gritting his teeth tightly, displaying his frustration. "How did they even manage to do it? You said the forest couldn't be crossed."

Heb let out a heavy sigh before continuing with his cutting. A moment of silence hung between them.

"That's it? No lecture? No insults? You're not going to tell me I'm a failure? That I messed up?" Whurel asked after a moment, unable to bear the tension that seemed to weigh solely on his shoulders.

"The moment you mentioned that you took the boy from the soldiers, I was actually impressed. In my mind, the success of acquiring him before anyone even noticed was a prerequisite for the success of this whole mission. You raised my hopes, I won't lie when you told me you snatched him from them... It's unfortunate. We'll wait for another opportunity. Only this time, we'll ensure we're first," Heb said, pausing briefly the process of cutting, so he could explain. As he spoke, his knife-wielding hand gestured through the air, but inevitably returned to the meat to finish the task, allowing Heb to skewer a small piece and place it in his mouth.

"You're going to give up just like that?" Whurel's eyebrows shot up. "I'm... I'm shocked," he admitted

The archmage chewed the piece of meat before responding, "I'm not going to go against the Eastern Empire for the sake of this. The implications could be... a mess. It already is a mess, so let's not make it worse, shall we? You will go to Zoulan and wait there. I've arranged transportation for myself, so I can return home after running one errand…"

"Why Zoulan? And why only me? Where are you going?"

Heb sighed once again. "The fact that they took the boy means that my..." he paused briefly, "friend from the forest is dead, isn't it?" The word left a strange aftertaste in his mouth. "It's an opportunity for me to investigate... to look into a few things. I'm not going to waste it. I'll be coming right after this visit, so simply wait for me there for a few days, will you? Besides... I want you to experience something." A smirk appeared on his face. „Then I’m returning, and you will remain here, on the island. We will be in contact.”

"Experience something?" Whurel nearly laughed out loud. „And why the hell do I need to stay?”

"You'll understand when you see..." the archmage responded mysteriously, then continued eating his piece of meat, ignoring the second question.

The warrior shook his head, standing up to depart. After all the walking, he was exhausted and in need of a day's rest in a comfortable bed.

Yura, in chains, was ruthlessly dragged through the dimly lit tunnel of a sprawling dungeon that stretched beneath the military district in the capital city of Kyokyo. The guard, clad in a dark kimono, showed no mercy as he yanked her along.

In the past, Yura had never even dreamt of venturing this far into the heart of the empire, and yet now she found herself right there.

Any resistance she displayed only elicited more force from the soldier. The unyielding iron restraints around her wrists dug into her flesh, causing blood to seep out. Eventually, she ceased her struggle. While her journey had allowed her injured leg to heal to some extent, it still throbbed with pain.

Passing numerous cells filled with curious but wretched-looking prisoners, clad in filthy rags, she was led to her new abode. It was a slightly different cell, distinguishable by a small, narrow window that bordered the ceiling, offering a glimpse of the outside world.

The window, however, proved to be insufficiently large for even someone as slender as her to escape through, its metal bars serving as an additional, impenetrable, barrier.

With a key, the guard unlocked the cell door and hurled her inside. The chains around her ankles were too short, preventing her from taking the wide steps she needed to maintain her balance. Instead, she stumbled and fell face-first onto the rough floor, her elbows absorbing the impact. Pain reverberated through her bones as a gasp left her mouth. Not wasting any time, she struggled to pick herself up, grunting and groaning.

A swift glance around revealed the stark emptiness of her new living quarters, save for a bucket and a pile of hay there was nothing.

Without uttering a single word, the guard departed, locking the cell door behind him.

As soon as his footsteps faded into silence, the prison came alive. Wicked laughter pierced the air as the men began to torment her, making crude demands that soon escalated into insults. In the blink of an eye, the chaos of voices swarmed her.

Gritting her teeth, she curled up in a corner, pressing her fingers against her ears in a desperate attempt to drown out the noise.

Nestled within a picturesque garden, an Eastern Imperial-style house stood, its wooden structure exuding an air of elegance. Streams meandered through the lush landscape, their clear waters irrigating small bushes adorned with vibrant, colorful flowers. Numerous bridges spanned the garden, connecting the pathways that wound their way through this enchanting place.

On the porch of the house, an intriguing sight greeted the eyes: a large iron cage housing a slumbering wolf. The majestic creature lay motionless. So still that it could be mistaken for a lifeless, yet exquisitely made puppet. A deep scar, crimson and vicious, marred the forehead of the beast, running between its eyes and digging slightly into its snout. However, the gentle rise and fall of its ribcage bore testament to the wolf's continued existence.

Within the cage, two bowls sat untouched. One contained freshly cut meat, carefully portioned into bite-sized chunks, while the other held cool water. Despite the presence of these provisions, the wolf had not partaken in either, leaving them undisturbed in a silent testament to its unbroken slumber.

From afar, walking through the garden,  Shinrou Rokuro observed the creature. „Why are you not eating?” he pondered to himself. „Is it because you lost your owner? Your loyalty is admirable.”