Introductions.

Afternoon in a village turned military camp. Killian stood by the road. He is slim and blonde. Blue eyes sparkle, and red lips bleed. He wears a thin cotton shirt and a fine knife strapped to his waist. On his right, he holds bread, and on the other is a golden pocket watch. It was vintage. Around him stood buildings, broken and shab. The walls cracked, and bordering the windows were straps of rotting wood.

He bit the bread and looked down the muddy road. The smell of damp earth still lingered in his nose and the noise of cranks turning as wagons drive by echoes to the walls behind. In the distance, A group of youth formed in a large circle wearing woollen clothes and freshly sharpened swords in scabbards stood idly by. They all looked young. Their faces are smooth with no marks or scabs, and their facial hair still has little to none.

Killian took another bite of the bread and lifted the golden watch near his face. He pushed the lock and turned the cover, glancing at the time. Then glanced back to the group and watched them from afar. He waited by the road for the group to form. Almost 15 minutes go by for them to be a dozen lot, and only then did he make his move. He walked down the road to be perpendicular to the group. A long piece of wooden board laid splat on the road. And there he stepped over. Tiptoeing as he crossed. Creaking and mud splattered his boots.

"Are you the last one?" One of the youths asked.

He nodded.

Suddenly, someone from behind latched an arm around his shoulders. Leading him to walk. The man was slightly taller than he was and bald.

"Weapon? Have one?" The bald asked.

"Yeah, here." Tapping the dagger on his waist.

"Good." The bald replied. I'm sure you already know where we're heading, right?"

"Yeah"

"And what we're going to do?"

"Yeah"

"Okay, Let's split here. The team that I tasked to bring the crowbars can have five people. I'll take this last guy with me. We'll meet there at the tavern. Let's go." The bald said to the others.

One by one, they slowly left. The group carrying the sacks that held the crowbars took the sideroad as their route. And the other took the alleyway.

"Let's go follow me. We'll take the main road." The bald said.

As they walked through the road leading deeper into town. The road slowly became paved, and the building looked more maintained. The number of people also grew, and the noise of their chattering became louder.

"Hey, last guy, What's your name?" One asked. His brown hair glided as they walked.

"Killian."

"Killian? ..."

"Just, Killian"

"Okay, Just Killian, My name is Evan Walters. It's nice to meet you."

"That's not what I meant."

"Sure, sure, Just Killian."

Suddenly, the other teen rushed to his left. His slightly darker blonde hair shined against the sun.

"Are you guys doing introductions?" He asked with his eyes sparkling.

"Yeah, My name is Evan Walters, and this guy is Just Killian."

"Don't Listen to him." Killian buts in.

He giggled. "Nice to meet you two. I'm Archie Wells." Stretching his hand out for a handshake.

"There's no need for that," Evans replied. "We're all friends here."

"Yeah, You should relax more, kiddo." The bald guy said. "Oh, and my name is Allan Mills." He said, smiling.

"Okay, seniors, I'll take that to heart."

Evans laughed, "What did he say, SENIORS!. What the fuck!. Did you hear that?" Shaking Killian's shoulders.

Killian chuckled, "Don't be so stiff. Just call us by our names."

"Okay," Archie replied in a hushed tone.

After a couple of miles of walking, they slowly left the bustling centre of the town and into the outer parts. The buildings around slowly regressed down to what it was before. And the road became muddy.

"We're here, boys," Allan said as they turned into an alley.

The tavern stood in the middle of the fork. It didn't look quite old as the other building beside it. But the concrete walls already showed signs of cracking.

Allan knocked at the door.

No one answered.

"Allan Mills."

The door opened.

"You guys got here first?"

"Yeah, We took the alleyways to skip past the crowd."

"The others with the crowbars?"

"I don't know. They'll probably get here last. They headed north to a side road to avoid people."

"You guys already opened it?"

"No, we don't have the tools."

"Did you search the building?"

"Yeah, but we haven't searched the basement.

"Let me take a look," Allan said as he walked down with the teen.

Killian walked down the three steps before the door. And stepped foot on the water-soaked wooden floor. All the tables and chairs were scattered around. And the walls were peeled and falling apart. It also smelled of stagnant water.

"It's spooky in here," Evans said, running past him.

"Um, Mister Killian, How do you lock this door?" Archie asked.

"Just close it behind you. There's still the other five outside."

"Okay," Archie replied.

Suddenly, the teen rushed from the hallway and grabbed Killian with him. They walked through the slippery hallway and down the stairs. The smell of decay grew as Killian got closer to the door below. They both stepped down to the knee-high murky water. Dirtying their clothes.

"Is he the guy?" The teen asked.

"Yeah," Allan replied. "Hey, Killian, can you manifest your aura?"

"Yeah, Why?"

"I can't push this door open on my own, so I thought I could use your help."

"What do we do?"

"Well, you and I push the door while he lock-picks it. The door suddenly closes when it gets too shut. I think the water from inside is pushing the door, making it hard for one man to open it."

Killian walked over beside Allan, pushing the water out of the way. The teen from before ducked down under them and slotted his lock pick in. Slowly, Allan grew a faint light around his body, and Killian matched it. The water shook.

The teen below carefully picked the first four pins. And as the last one clicked. The door slowly inched forward into the room.