Chapter 6

Dane held a longsword in one hand, tracing the finger from the other against its blade. It was crudely forged, meant for sparring, but passable. Strapped to his waist was a dagger, sheathed in a leather scabbard. "How much?"

The smith folded a finger, showing him the other four with pursed lips.

"How about three?" Dane haggled and placed three silver coins on the desk, his face flushed. He hadn't ever negotiated the price of anything with anyone before. If he had his way, he would never do so again.

The smith silently upended his folded finger. Five. His eyes let his displeasure show.

Jackal smiled at Dane mischievously. "Tell him you know where he goes three hours before dawn."

"How much if I keep my lips sealed about where you stop by three hours before dawn?" Dane asked.

The smith coughed and pulled the three coins toward him.

Dane smiled and walked into the street, his new sword safely stowed in the new sheath tied to his back. Jackal followed him. Since he had finished up at the farmer's, he had walked around the town, marking points of entries and exits that he could use or be wary of. Throughout it all, she refused to leave him be, tailing him regardless of his wishes. And she did not know how to keep her mouth shut. One would find the buzzing of a fly soothing after an hour with her.

But not all was bad. Even the night came with moonlight…mostly. She helped him learn a neat trick about his Attribute. Essentially, he could single out souls he wanted to see. Or even categorically differentiate between dead and alive. She also gave him a plethora of information about the well.

In ancient times, the Heart God had come to this hill, in legend at least. They say that the people from neighboring cities and across the seas had rushed to catch a glimpse of him, and they did. Upon seeing his majesty, they built the town and cathedral at the crest of the hill to honor him. Heart was pleased with their respect, dwelt in their making, and lived among them for a week.

He saw that the townspeople went down and around the hill to fetch water from the sea and toiled for many hours to desalinate the water every day.

So he blessed them with the well and said that as long as the people prayed to him earnestly, the well would never run out of fresh water.

Now, something was within that well, and it was Dane's task to deal with it.

The sun had set, and the people had lit braziers and hanging torches everywhere. But even without it, Dane could see perfectly, as if it was still midday.

"Say, Jackal, are there any Awakened in the town?" he asked softly.

Jackal, walking at his side, looked at him in surprise. "Now, you speak to me, finally! Yes, just one. The chief guard, he's an Awakened of thirty years," she pointed at a man with gray temples sitting by the well, watching men pull a bucket out of the well with just a hint of a smile. "He appeared out of nowhere one day, a wanderer like you, and built a house for himself here. He's been protecting us from brigands and the corrupted ones ever since. He hasn't told us his name, so we call him Sir, like a knight, as a form of respect."

Dane examined Jackal seriously. "Respect? Wow, I didn't know you had it in you."

He quickly turned away from her, blocking out her ceaseless insults.

Dane looked at the Awakened, contemplating. He knew he couldn't handle whatever was inside the well alone. It had been responsible for the death of the entire population, somehow. He had to get the Awakened to work with him.

He walked to the well and stopped a few meters from the knight. Dane peered into the well, and there was nothing, at least as far as he could see, but he felt queasy just looking inside. He was about to speak when the knight stood up. He looked straight ahead of him.

A group of men hoisting thick ropes huffed, and a large bucket of water, tall as a man and wide as ten, rose out of the dark well. It dripped with pristine water, as clear as glass. The men lifted cups, collected water with them, and raised them into the air.

Dane watched curiously. He wasn't aware of their customs, but he found it a shame for such an energetic festival to be sullied by death. He wished to act first, to call an investigation of the well based on danger. While he watched, Jackal moved away from him, down the hill.

"Brothers and sisters, children! Tonight, we celebrate the visit of the Lord of Hearts upon our ancestors before us! Let us begin by drinking the water of the Blessed Well, which we have abstained from for seven days and nights!"

The men brought the cups to their parched mouths and drank.

Dane looked at the sight despondently. It seemed that he wouldn't be able to act on matters first unless he wished to jump into the well. Not when the entire festival was based on the well. Perhaps he could get Jackal to investigate the well for him. He turned and walked away to look for Jackal, who had whisked away somewhere, but—smash! Dane snapped his neck back around.

The cup had fallen from a man's hand and broken. His hands were up to his chest, thumping against it desperately. The men around him began coughing, and some fell to their knees.

Women and children came rushing from the crowd toward their husbands. They were too late. The men began dropping onto the grassy ground, unmoving.

The knight and another guard moved toward them instantly and checked on their bodies, pushing away worried wives and children. Dane observed with a hawk's eye, pushing through the crowd to get closer.

The men were alive, but they weren't in a good state. They seemed to be heating up. Boils and swells appeared, marring their skin.

"Venom…," the knight said.

"Someone poisoned the well," he shouted. Everyone quietened. He was very loud. He must have used essence to augment his throat.

Gasps and murmurs echoed throughout the crowd. Dane seized the opportunity.

"Or something," he stated, stepping toward the well.

The knight looked at him and opened his mouth, but Dane did not stop. He needed to speak now, or he would be swept away into silence along with the crowd.

He continued, "Earlier this evening, I passed by the well, and I swear to it, I saw something shine inside it."

The Knight, Sir, pondered for a moment. Dane held his breath, but he did not let it show. He waited for a few agonizing seconds.

"There have been fish and other marine life living in this well for centuries," the Knight suggested.

Dane did not wait to fire back. He countered, "That is what I thought too, until now."

The knight sighed, moved, and stood over the well. Dane followed him. 

The man's hand glowed, and a ball of fire coalesced into his hand. It fell from his hand and into the well, illuminating the well. It fell for dozens of seconds, and slowly, something silver glinted from within. Then another, another, and another.

Sir gasped and clenched his fists, and the fire seemed to burn in on itself, growing smaller. Abruptly, it exploded just over the water, throwing light everywhere.

It was only for a second, but Dane saw them. Serpents with scales of silver hid under the water, and some stuck to the walls of the ancient well. There were hundreds of them.