It didn’t take too long to reach the town. The trip would’ve felt far longer if the ewlbear was still actively chasing him, but since he could take his time, the one-hour walk didn’t feel like much of a trip. More like a leisurely stroll through a meadow, taking in the smell of fresh flowers and the heat of the sun above. Except the forest only smelled of rain, and the stench of the ewlbear shot his nose for a time, so all he could smell was rotting meat. It was also nighttime between the summer and autumn seasons, so he was feeling the direct opposite of warm.  

Frelyord, the town of no peace. The only thing worthy of note about the town was that it had the largest bar in the world. Frelyord had the chance to take advantage of the yellowbark trees and become big for selling them off, but they were too late on that venture. A town just a day’s walk away beat them to it not even a year later. That left Frelyord the bar, and Harlam couldn’t see any positives in them being known as the big bar town.  

The population was larger than average, sure, but crime was rampant. Harlam stepped into town and saw a woman being beaten by a drunken man in some alleyway. The smell of musty clothes and old beer made Harlam back up and walk away. He didn’t want to get involved in a fight no matter how well-deserved a beatdown would be.  

The entire town smelled of booze, prostitution, and pollution. Harlam couldn’t take a step without overhearing something that would get him killed from just understanding a single word. He counted up to five times that he’d be confronted by someone if they could see him. Thanks to the Everstone, he could walk around with minimal challenge, but that didn’t help relieve the cold sweats dripping down his skin.  

Houses that used to shine a brilliant yellow were stained with sticky browns and concerning reds. The streets weren’t much better. Potholes abound meant that walking was the primary form of transportation. A horse and wagon would have tipped over long ago, and any and all contents from inside would be snagged and stolen in a single eye blink.  

A town that could have been something more than a den of miscreants and outlaws had been dirtied by its own hands. If that bar hadn’t been built and if it weren’t stuck between two large cities where people could make millions, then it might’ve had a chance. Sadly, the only purpose the town served was to nurture the unwanteds and the lost dreams. 

Harlam walked closer and closer to the bar situated in the middle of Frelyord. It sat three stories tall and took up two entire blocks of space from both side to side and front to back. Each story would shrink in size by half until it plateaued at the very top. All Harlam knew about the bar was that the first floor itself was the bar and the second was an inn. The third story was a mystery to anyone who didn’t live in Frelyord. The residents, when asked, would just say that it was where the owners of the bar did their work. That would make sense if it wasn’t on record that they’d try and change topic as quickly as possible while looking increasingly uncomfortable.  

Still, the bar was the only inn in Frelyord. Harlam’d have to make do with sleeping in such unfortunate conditions. The wind picked up and a piece of paper taped to a pole began flapping in the wind, catching his attention. It was a recruitment poster for the military. When he spotted the first, he saw another on a pole not far from him. Then another. And another. Harlam looked behind him and noticed he passed by plenty of posters, all practically begging people to sign up for the military. 

Harlam was aware of the wars raging across Yenevear, but he didn’t expect it to be so brutal that he’d find recruitment posters scattered across town. A few people looked at the posters, shrugged, then went on about their business. Some took a poster down and stuffed them in a pocket before leaving. Whether they would use them as scrap or actually take up the offer was something Harlam didn’t really care about. He wasn’t all too in the know about his own country, and he didn’t really care to know.  

As Harlam approached the bar, he spotted someone he knew. A woman around her mid-twenties leaned against the entranceway of the bar with her head down. She wore a stuffy long-sleeved shirt covered in a brown pitsnake-scaled vest. A long tear stretched across her left knee, exposing the skin from inside her brown pants that looked as if it hadn’t been washed in days, maybe even weeks.  

Harlam put on his best smile and approached her. She didn’t look in his direction, but of course she wouldn’t. After all, she couldn’t see him. At least she shouldn’t be able to. 

Harlam leaned on the wall next to her. They stood shoulder to shoulder, the woman looking down and away from him as if intentionally trying to make it seem like she didn’t notice his presence. An idea came to mind, and Harlam could barely hide a smile from imagining what her face would look like. 

“I don’t have the Everstone with me.” 

The woman’s eyes widened and she looked at him only to see his shit-eating grin and a hand in his pouch. Perfect. Just perfect. The look of terror that transformed into shock that then transformed into exasperating annoyance all in under a second. That was true comedy. 

She groaned and leaned back against the wall. Harlam couldn’t help but laugh at her misfortune from thinking he was even telling a half-truth. 

“How’d you know it was me,” the woman asked. 

“I’ve fought against you guys for so long I can tell who you are even when you try and blend in with magic.” Harlam lifted a finger and pointed at a woman looking at a military enlistment poster. “She’s also one of you and…” He pointed at a woman talking to some random man he’d never seen before. “So is she.” 

The woman sighed and looked at him. If looks could kill he’d be a dead man. The worst kind of man.  

“You’re pretty good for a man.” 

“You don’t have to tell me something I already know.” 

“Full of yourself much?” 

“Yes, actually. How could you tell?” Harlam stretched and popped his back. 

The woman’s name was Erly Minini. She was a squad leader of the Yenevear witches. He’d known her since before she even joined that blasted organization. They used to live in the same small village, but she had to move away for “family reasons.” If he hadn’t known her then he wouldn’t be anywhere near. Too much risk in just recklessly approaching a witch he didn’t recognize. 

“Are you going to give me the Everstone,” Erly asked. 

Harlam was wondering when that topic would come up. He just wanted to have a little talk before he left the next day. Although he wasn’t planning on never talking to her again, there was always a chance that he’d be in a situation where talking became an impossibility. He’d wanted to just have a normal chat, but she couldn’t even take the hint.  

“No, and you know it.” 

“But—” 

“No.” Harlam put on a smile and looked Erly in her eyes. “Let’s talk about something else. Something like, how’s your job been?” 

“Well, I’ve been chasing this dumbass around the country.” 

“Can’t be so dumb if you couldn’t catch him before he crossed the country.” 

“He’s smart at avoiding us but dumb in every other aspect.” 

Harlam frowned and crossed his arms. “Let’s change the subject again.” 

“Alright. How about giving us the Everstone?” 

And they completed the circle of conversation. Harlam couldn’t help but get annoyed at Erly’s persistent pleading. Constantly. Over and over. She never even asked why he stole the Everstone. Instead, she just kept on trying to snatch it back from him.  

The two women he spotted were glancing at him periodically. When one looked away, the other would take their place. Over and over, they traded glances at him, and he couldn’t help but wonder if they lost their minds. Witches never acted like people. The moment a woman becomes a witch, their personalities are rotted away and replaced by something. Something that focuses directly on a singular goal dictated by the country’s leaders.  

Erly wasn’t Erly, anymore. He hoped that by talking with her he could see that he had just been overthinking. She has to have some part of her old self in her, Harlam thought. He thought wrong.  

Erly talked like her old self. She even emoted like her old self. But she sure as hell doesn’t act like her old self. If he were truly talking to Erly, they’d be sitting around just saying random crap that came to mind. Then maybe the topic of the Everstone would come up, and before she even demanded he handed it over, she’d try to talk to him about it first. Why did he want it? What were his goals? Instead of doing this, why not try that? Those were the questions she would have asked.  

“You’re crying?” 

Harlam blinked. He brought a finger to his cheek and found out that he was, indeed, crying. It wasn’t even light crying that could be confused for watery eyes. The flow of tears poured down his face uncontrollably as if a dam had broken above a cliff. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Harlam wiped his face with his arm and started to walk away. He wasn’t worried about Erly trying anything to him while he was in town. Witches were forbidden from using their magic in populated areas. Their magic had the potential to seriously damage buildings and shops so they were limited to using magic outside of civilization.  

“I’ll be in the inn,” Harlam pointed to the bar’s entrance. “Once I get some rest, I’ll head out. You can try and grab the Everstone then.” 

He was about to walk away and enter the bar, but before he could, Erly grabbed him by the shoulder. He looked back at her and wondered what she was planning.  

“Why,” Erly asked. Harlam’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t help but relax his muscles. “Why did you take the Everstone? Because of you, everyone’s killing each other. Teffer, Hollowfelt, Kingdrop, North and South Yinew. Everyone’s at war because you stole the Everstone. Nothing you could gain from that is worth risking the lives of thousands. Why?” 

Harlam’s mouth was dry. His arms and legs weak. Did she just ask him why? Her personality was torn apart, ripped to pieces, chewed on and spit out. As a witch, she wasn’t supposed to ask questions that could interfere with their mission. They were melded that way. So why did she ask him why? 

Erly squeezed his arm harder, and he shook from the broken and hopeless thoughts. This had to have been some sort of mistake in the government’s brainwashing. She probably broke out for a brief moment, but a moment nonetheless. She was still gone. Nothing could bring her back fully. 

“Why do I need to even answer that.” Harlam laughed and forced a smile. “It's not like your bosses were using it for anything good. What’s the issue with me using something they had just laying around gathering dust.”  

“You say that, but it's not like you’re going to use it for the greater good or anything, are you?” 

Harlam sighed and yanked his hand away. “No. No, I’m not.” Done with talking, Harlam entered the bar, the door slamming behind him. 

***

“That could’ve gone better,” Erly said.  

“You tell me.”  

One of Erly’s successors, the one talking to the drunken man, came to her with a hand on her hip. Her blonde hair was mere inches off the ground and was prone to getting stepped on by random people behind her. Erly looked over to her second successor and found her looking at them in a relaxed combat stance. She was prepared for anything to happen and Erly commended her silently for that. 

“I wonder what went wrong,” successor one asked.  

“A number of things.” 

Erly could think of plenty of things she could have done differently. Like not antagonizing Harlam almost straight away. If instead of asking him why he stole the Everstone, what if she just brought up their past? Could that have gotten the stone back? What if, what if, what if. So many what-ifs and not enough what should she dos.  

“Miraca,” Erly nodded to her successor, “go inside and keep an eye on him. He’ll know who you are, but neither he nor I wish to engage or run away. He’s too close to his goal to provoke us and we stand by our oaths so attacking in town is not an option.”  

Miraca nodded and headed into the bar. A man coming out stepped on her hair and they got into a shouting match for a while. Erly sighed as Miraca slapped the man and entered the bar. Miraca was one of her best, but she wouldn’t let even a slight grudge go until she got her justice. If that man did anything against her, she’d have no magic to fight him off with and the mission would be hurt in the process. 

Erly’s second successor, Fenlin Dold, came up to her and saluted. Erly ordered her to speak and Fenlin obeyed immediately.  

“Ma’am, may I criticize?”  

Erly raised an eyebrow, curious at what she’d say. “You may.” 

“Thank you, ma’am. I have to wonder, what was the purpose of asking our target his purpose for committing the crime? Wouldn’t that information only cloud your mind the moment you end his life?” 

Erly hummed to herself, thinking over Fenlin’s criticism. She wasn’t wrong to bring up the flaw in what Erly had done. Harlam and she already had ties from their past which no one knew about. It had taken some convincing to get the Misses to assign her to the task. If she had let slip that they had a history together, she’d never have been assigned to the mission. 

“I get your argument, Fenlin. No need to concern yourself with it. I only used that tactic because I sensed he wanted to be understood. If I could have kept him talking, there was a chance he could have willingly given us the Everstone without any trouble. Disappointingly, I had been too late on the uptake.” 

That wasn’t the only reason, however. As much as Erly didn’t want to admit it, she truly wanted to know why Harlam would throw his entire life away to pursue the Evergrave. No man should have the desire to seek such old histories, especially a man already bordering on the realm of insanity. The dark circles around his eyes, the way his head twitched erratically as if he had been taking substances, his frazzled hair, and reddened and dirt-stained skin all pointed to signs of his mind breaking. She wouldn’t be surprised if he started hearing voices from his madness.  

Fenlin nodded, accepting the excuse Erly gave. She announced that she would be off to make rounds outside the bar. There was an exit at the very back of the building and two more on the right side. She’d have to guard them all by herself. There used to be more women in their corp, but they’d all passed away. Killed from trying to snatch the Everstone from Harlam’s thieving hands.  

Harlam was no longer the little boy with bright eyes that she played with. Whatever happened to that little boy had been torn apart limb from limb until he regrew the arms and legs of a man with nothing to live for. She could see it in his eyes when they were talking. They were dull, lifeless. He spoke with vigor, but there was no soul behind his words. Almost like his mouth moved without a coherent thought. Whatever piloted his body was no man or boy she once knew. It was a thing that kept him running toward the Evergrave.  

Whatever happened, whatever she could do, Erly would try and find a way to bring him back. If she could do that, then she could try and convince her superiors to spare his life. After all, it wasn’t his fault that he ran toward the Evergrave. It was the one controlling the strings buried into his skin.