'What the fuck is going on?'
Azrael's mind was a whirlwind of confusion as he observed the unexpected interaction between Kaitlynn and Shadow. His gaze flickered between the two, trying to make sense of the situation.
Illeron couldn't hold back his laughter, finding Azrael's perplexed expression utterly amusing. Erik joined in, his laughter echoing through the clearing.
"Stop glaring at this poor baby."
Kaitlynn chided Azrael gently, her voice tinged with both scolding and tenderness. She moved to shield Shadow's head with her arms, her protective gesture speaking volumes.
"You left him somewhere, and he had to find his own way back here. He's tired and hungry. Don't be too hard on him."
'The hell he is a baby!
Shadow glanced at him from within Kaitlynn's embrace, Azrael couldn't shake off the feeling that the horse was somehow mocking him, perhaps even sporting a smug grin.
Azrael's frustration boiled over as he watched Shadow being coddled like a child, his eyes narrowing at the horse's seemingly smug expression.
"He's not a baby! He's a demon horse!" Azrael protested vehemently, pointing an accusing finger at Shadow.
"Demon horse? Why do you have to be so mean?" Kaitlynn scolded Azrael gently, her voice tinged with disbelief. Turning to Shadow, she cooed once more, "Did you hear that, my dear? Don't listen to him."
Shadow seemed to nod in agreement, his expression inscrutable as he nestled closer to Kaitlynn, clearly enjoying the attention.
"Shadow's a good horse," Illeron chimed in, approaching the animal to pat its mane.
"Yes, he's a sweetheart." Kaitlynn nodded in agreement, her affection for the horse evident in her tone.
Azrael let out a frustrated groan and turned away from the group.
"I'll be back," he muttered, striding off toward the village.
"Where are you off to?" Erik called after him.
Azrael waved dismissively. "The horse won't be much help. I'll go check the village for assistance. You all stay put until I return." With that, he set off on his own path, leaving his companions behind by the riverside.
"Be careful!" Kaitlynn shouted after Azrael's departing figure.
"Don't worry about it!" he called back over his shoulder, offering a confident smile.
Illeron trotted up beside him, concern etched on his features.
"Are you sure about this? What if someone recognizes you? It's only been two days. What if that woman is still lurking there?" he voiced his worries.
Azrael turned to him, his smile unwavering.
"Illeron, I don't think we have any other option, do we? Besides, I've got ways to disguise myself," he said, offering a reassuring wink.
"Alright then, but please be careful," Illeron responded, patting Azrael's shoulder before they parted ways.
"Don't worry about it, I'm more concerned about those fools than myself," Azrael remarked, casting a glance towards Kaitlynn and Shadow, who were engrossed in their own world.
Illeron chuckled. "Yeah, I'll keep an eye on them. Don't worry."
"Thanks," Azrael replied with a nod of appreciation as Illeron made his way back to Erik and Kaitlynn, leaving Azrael to head towards the village alone.
Azrael let out a heavy breath as he walked the path alone. Though his companions wanted to help, he knew they could become a burden if things went wrong.
He was used to working solo anyway. Bringing Shadow along might complicate matters. This was just a simple scouting mission, and he preferred to handle it alone.
His plan was clear-cut: stroll into the village, find a quiet spot to observe, casually chat with some unsuspecting villagers about recent events, and make a swift return. It all sounded straightforward in theory.
After hours of walking, surrounded by the peaceful sounds of nature, Azrael finally spotted wisps of smoke rising in the distance. It wasn't the ominous smoke of destruction, but rather the comforting signs of civilization—a bustling hub of activity, with small shops and vendors dotting the landscape ahead.
Azrael crouched low behind a large boulder, peering out at the village. Despite the apparent normalcy of people going about their daily activities, he sensed an underlying tension in the air.
Men gathered around a makeshift bar, their laughter sounding hollow amidst the quiet sadness that hung over the village. Children played, but their exuberance was tempered by a subtle unease.
As he observed, he noticed the telltale signs of grief and worry etched on the faces of the villagers. Some conversed in hushed tones, casting wary glances around them.
Others sat alone, lost in their thoughts or openly displaying their sorrow. It was clear that the village was grappling with something more profound than just the usual challenges of life.
As he drew closer to the tavern, the weight of his past actions hung heavily upon him. The familiar sight of the building brought forth a flood of memories, each step stirring a mix of emotions within him—remorse, guilt, and a sense of responsibility. It was here, in this very tavern, that his life had taken a fateful turn.
The scars of destruction marred the once-vibrant facade of the tavern. Blackened walls and charred rooftops bore witness to the havoc his magic had unleashed upon the village. It was a stark reminder of the consequences of his actions, a burden he carried with a heavy heart.
With a deep breath, he approached the tavern, steeling himself for the difficult task ahead.
He stood before the ruins of the tavern, its once bustling halls now reduced to a mere skeleton of charred timber and broken stone. The walls, once sturdy and welcoming, now stood as jagged remnants of the fire's wrath, casting eerie shadows in the fading light.
Scattered across the ground were the remnants of tables and chairs and their splintered frames. The air was heavy with the scent of smoke, mingling with the faint whispers of the wind as it swept through the desolate scene.
He did this.
"160 years of legacy... Burnt to the ground like nothing," an old man suddenly remarked from beside Azrael, causing him to startle in surprise.