The tavern was just a few winding alleys away.

The room they entered revealed itself in modest size and simple ambiance.

A narrow bed, a tiny wardrobe, a table – on the wall hung a picturesque landscape painting.

“A bit cramped in here,” Evan remarked, furrowing his brow.

Leuven, sitting on the bed with a bulging sack beside him, replied calmly, “The deposit didn’t stretch far enough for more. But it’s better than sleeping outside in the cold.”

“Since you couldn’t pay the rest, what was your plan?” Evan inquired.

Leuven, momentarily lost in thought, replied thoughtfully, “I’d be happy to explain.”

Silence hung in the air.

“And?” Evan prompted, as the silence grew increasingly oppressive.

“I honestly don’t know. But I’m sure I would have come up with something,” Leuven retorted with a mischievous smile.

The half-demon shook his head incredulously and went to the window, which offered a fascinating view of the bustling streets.

Across from the tavern were residential buildings with multiple tenants.

In the distance, he spotted a woman shaking cushions out of a window, leaning daringly far over the windowsill.

A bit further down, another woman was folding freshly dried laundry from the line stretched across the alley.

“Quite an impressive view, don’t you think?” Leuven asked proudly, immediately dumping his large bag onto the bed.

A multitude of clothing spread out on the sheets. Each piece exuded a touch of elegance and value.

“Tell me,” Evan began, examining the precious bodices. “You’re holding out on me, aren’t you?”

“Me? – You’re the one keeping secrets and refusing to share,” the merchant countered, sorting his clothes meticulously.

“When I found you, you had no food, little water, and some odds and ends in your cart.”

“Where are you going with this?” Leuven asked, holding up a finely embroidered vest. “Doesn’t match the Barrett, does it?”

“I see. Your clothes are tailored?” Evan questioned.

“Of course, otherwise, I might as well wear a potato sack,” the young man replied, holding a red shirt with golden embroidery against his chest.

“No, not this one either,” he finally said, placing it back on the bed.

Evan sighed. “Where did you get all these things anyway?”

Leuven glanced briefly at the half-demon, then resumed arranging his clothing. “As I mentioned, I come from a merchant family. You have to look the part, of course.”

“I guess talent isn’t necessarily required.”

“Hey!” Leuven spluttered. “If the city guards hadn’t stopped me, I would have made a good sum today, believe me.”

“I saved your life. Twice now. Well, if we count the events at Haren Castle, it’s three times,” Evan remarked.

“In your dreams, maybe!” the young man retorted.

“Do you want to sell some of your pieces? – You probably won’t wear them anyway,” the half-demon said in a bored tone, after Leuven had already rejected the fifth shirt.

“Maybe I can part with one or two. Actually, I’ve lost weight since I’ve been traveling. Some of them probably don’t fit anymore.”

“So, you’ve lost weight?” Evan raised an eyebrow.

“Believe it or not!” Leuven replied hoarsely, exchanging his green Barrett for a red one before shaking his head and switching back to the old one.

“It’s not that easy!” he grumbled, critically examining the clothes on the bed.

“Do you have anything planned for today?”

“We’re in Rabensberg, the capital of Brunen. There are supposed to be lively celebrations here in the evenings, pretty young women you can drink beer from their cleavage, and…”

“And countless drunks who will rob you, the way you’re dressed,” the half-demon interjected with a grin. “Don’t overdo it. It’s the same as in any other dive. People get drunk, party, and when they’ve had too much, they want to rough you up. Yes, evenings are lively here, but trust me, you’d rather be somewhere else.”

“Maybe you share that view just because you’re always the one causing trouble,” Leuven suggested, eyeing Evan skeptically.

“Possible,” Evan shrugged. “But believe me, dressed like that, you’re practically asking to be robbed. Get yourself something more inconspicuous. Especially since you’ll be spending a lot of time on the streets. Highwaymen and bandits are as common as dirt in the marshes and forests.”

“I’ll manage, besides, I have Gertrud. She’s truly a special mare.”

“You’re not seriously calling her Gertrud, are you?”

“Then maybe Gertru-de?”

“You’re completely mad!”

Snorting, Evan turned to the window. “The sun will set soon. I have my meeting at the cathedral at midnight.”

“Oh, the cathedral!” Leuven exclaimed. “I’ve always wanted to see it.”

“But you’re not coming,” Evan replied.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s far too dangerous for you. Besides, our meeting was a coincidence. As I said, our paths diverge here.”

“But maybe it was fate,” Leuven suggested. “Yes, think about it. Fate brought us together.”

“Don’t talk nonsense! – Fate’s a bastard. But it probably won’t be that cruel to me.”

“But you do realize you’re hurting my feelings a bit, right?”

“I’m hurting your feelings?” Evan raised an eyebrow. “Does that actually hurt?”

“Of course, it hurts!” Leuven snorted.

“Then put on that red vest. You’ll find out what real pain is tonight when you’re beaten in the streets for wearing it.”

“What’s wrong with you? – I’ll chalk this up to your demonic side. But you really need to learn what kindness means.” Leuven didn’t hide his dissatisfaction.

“You have…” Evan trailed off.

His eyes widened. A sudden bolt of lightning pierced his mind, shrill and ominous. Panic surged within him.

His gaze returned to the window, then he startled and rushed towards Leuven, who was behind the bed. “Get down!”

A deafening blast tore through the air, followed by the shrill sound of shattering glass. Sharp glass fragments whirled like dangerous projectiles through the room, accompanied by the horrified screams of people outside on the streets.

For a fleeting moment, the world seemed to stand still, only to be pierced by a deep, eerie silence.

Evan lifted his head and dared to look over the edge of the mattress.

The window and its frame were destroyed, a debris field of dust and sparkling glass shards spread like snow on the wooden floor.

In the midst of the devastated room knelt a figure, cloaked in dark leather armor.

A massive metal shoulder plate adorned her left side, and her arms were covered with shimmering vambraces.

Her head was bowed, veiled by long, black hair.

The half-demon already gripped the hilt of his sword, determined to defend himself, as he emerged from cover behind the bed.

The mysterious figure rose and tossed her hair back.

In that moment, Evan recognized her as a woman, but not a human. Gray skin, pointed ears, and piercing yellow eyes that immediately fixed on him.

Her long, black hair concealed the right side of her face, while the left side was shaved bare.

The half-demon’s sword slid from its sheath with a hissing sound.

“Who are you?” Evan hissed, his muscles tensed, ready for battle.

The woman decisively brushed the shards from her arms and steel breastplate, moving closer with purposeful steps.

Evan extended his sword resolutely. “Not another step!” he warned.

Her yellowish eyes pierced him penetratingly before casting a fleeting glance at Leuven, who cowered behind the bed, still whimpering.

“Do you belong to Rowan?” Evan demanded forcefully, keeping her under close watch.

A threatening gleam appeared in the woman’s eyes. A hissing sound escaped her lips.

“Speak already!” Evan demanded.

“There’s no time for talk!” the woman replied firmly. “You’re in danger.”

“Danger? Why would I be in danger?” Evan pressed, loosening his grip on his sword’s handle briefly before reconsidering and tightening it even more firmly with his fingers.

“You’ve been lured into a trap. They’ve set the city guard on you. Is that enough for you?” she explained urgently. “We need to get out of here immediately.”

“But first, I want to know who you are!” Evan insisted.

Trembling, Leuven dared to peek out from his hiding spot behind the bed and exclaimed in surprise, “Evan, that’s an Eldári!”

An expression of astonishment crossed Evan’s face.

“A genuine Eldári!” Leuven marveled. “It’s almost unbelievable.”

“Believe it,” the woman replied, a hint of pride in her voice.

The Eldári were one of the three ancient races that inhabited the continent before humans spread there.

Over time, memories of them faded and became part of the many tales and legends recorded by scholars and writers.

Most of them had left the continent, but deep in the unexplored regions beyond the Iron March, there were said to be a few tribes of them.

If a human were fortunate enough to lay eyes on an Eldári, it was generally considered a bad omen.

Evan gritted his teeth. “And what is an Eldári doing in Rabensberg?”

Her expression turned serious. “I’ll tell you, but for now, we need to disappear.”

At that moment, heavy bootsteps echoed in the hallway, followed by a loud knock on the door.

“Open up, now!” a voice bellowed through the wood.

The Eldári cast a fleeting glance at the door and then back to Evan. “Come now.”

The half-demon hesitated, his uncertainty evident on his face. Time was of the essence, and he had to make a quick decision.

The woman made her way to the shattered window, climbed onto the windowsill, and looked across the street. “Can you make it across this distance with a jump?”

Evan nodded, his resolve firm.

“But I can’t, never!” Leuven suddenly protested, emerging from his hiding place.

The half-demon glanced at him. “You will stay here.”

“What, I can’t…”

Again, there was a pounding on the door. “We’re coming in now!” a threatening voice declared.

With a powerful leap, the Eldári skillfully crossed the street and landed on the roof of the adjacent building.

“Evan, you’re not leaving me alone again, are you?” Leuven pleaded with an anxious look.

The half-demon looked into the trembling eyes of the young merchant.

“I told you, our paths diverge here. Farewell.” With these words, he followed the stranger.

Stepping onto the windowsill, he skillfully jumped over to the roof.

The door behind Leuven fell from its hinges with a crash, and in a brief moment, hardly longer than a blink of an eye, he was surrounded by men in green tunics and iron breastplates.

Startled, Leuven turned around.

The long halberds flashed threateningly in front of Leuven’s face.

“Do you have her?” thundered Heidenreich with a rough voice as he entered the room with heavy steps.

“She’s not here, Captain!” one of the guards reported, tapping the wooden floor with the bottom end of his halberd.

“Damn it, where did she go?” Heidenreich exclaimed, a vein on his forehead pulsating excitedly.

“She, she,” Leuven stammered, raising his trembling index finger, “went that way!”

“What?” Heidenreich looked around. The young merchant pointed at the door. “We came from there, what are you blabbering about?”

“Oh, oh, I see,” said the young man, letting his hand slide back down.

Heidenreich approached him menacingly. “What happened?”

Leuven muttered some incomprehensible words before recognizing the two city guards standing behind the captain.

They were the ones who had accused him earlier of selling stolen goods and asked about a nonexistent license.

The two guards exchanged surprised looks.

Leuven briefly considered whether to tell the captain about them and divert attention away from himself. Would they twist the story to get him into trouble?

Heidenreich turned away. “This is pointless,” he grumbled.

Neither Leuven nor the two corrupt guards uttered a word.

“To the street, now!” the captain spat. “She mustn’t escape us!”

“And what about him?” one of the guards asked, gesturing towards Leuven.

Heidenreich glanced briefly at the young man and then shook his head. “He won’t help us further. He’s just babbling nonsense.”

The guards obeyed the captain’s command and followed him out into the hallway.

Leuven sighed briefly in relief before he heard the sound of shattered glass on the floor. “Well, I’m certainly not paying for that.”

Evan and the mysterious Eldári stealthily traversed the slanted roofs of Rabensberg, while the curious glances of some onlookers caught sight of them.

“Are you finally going to tell me who you are?” Evan inquired as they sought temporary refuge in a dark alley.

“I am Sarra,” the woman replied tersely, peering cautiously through the gloomy alley.

“Alright, Sarra. And why did you jump impressively through the window?”

“I told you that you’ve fallen into a trap,” she grumbled back. “Unfortunately, the city guard spotted me. I had no choice but to act, otherwise I would have been more discreet.”

“And whose trap have I fallen into?”

Sarra rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I don’t know. But what I do know is that it’s Rowan’s people.”

“Rowan?”

“Yes, Rowan. You weren’t exactly discreet when asking for information about his whereabouts. He’s already sent his people after you, and if you don’t leave Rabensberg immediately, it will end badly. Either the city guard will get you, or Rowan’s people will cause a massacre. Either way, you’re not only in danger but also a danger to others,” she explained, while her eyes nervously scanned their surroundings. “Disappear and let go of Rowan.”

“Never!” Evan spat, stepping forward with determination. “I won’t give up until I have his head!”

“Don’t shout like that,” Sarra hissed, glaring at the half-demon. “And above all, don’t be so foolish. You can’t do anything against Rowan alone. He has far too many people under him. They’ll have you before you even have a proper lead on where Rowan might be. You shouldn’t wake sleeping dogs, and you’ve marched up with trumpets and trombones.”

“I’ve been searching for him for ages,” Evan replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“He’s noticed,” Sarra retorted. “His men are just waiting for you to slip up, and coming to Rabensberg is just that. Your presence in Haren already attracted a lot of attention.”

“My presence in Haren? What does that have to do with anything? And how do you know about it?”

“You’re lucky to be alive after what happened there.”

“Nonsense,” said Evan. “I admit, at first I underestimated Hintz, but I won’t be deterred by that.”

Sarra looked at him with wide, irritated eyes. “Hintz? I’m not even talking about him. Rowan has been tracking you for a while and pulling the strings. The same thing happened in Haren. The Lord is dead. Killed by one of his lackeys.”

“What?” Evan’s face turned pale. Even paler than it already was. “When I left the castle, the Lord was still alive.”

“A man named Wenzel is responsible for it. I don’t know much about him, but he’s one of Rowan’s closest confidants. He’s good at covering his tracks. By the time I reached the castle, it was unfortunately too late.”

Evan looked pensive. “If only I had stayed longer.”

“Then they would have probably killed you too,” Sarra replied.

The Eldári peeked out of the alley again, fearing the city guard.

“Damn!” the half-demon bellowed, slamming his fist angrily against a crate. “He could have led me straight to that bastard.”

“Take it easy,” Sarra groaned. “What’s more important is that you’re not safe here. Word has spread among the higher circles that a demon named Evan Dhorne is responsible for what happened in Haren.”

“What? – I have nothing to do with that. The servants at the court can confirm that.”

“But they haven’t. Your name is tarnished now.”

“And why should you care?”

Sarra groaned. “I’m good at keeping a low profile. But the more you rampage like a berserker, the more cautious Rowan’s people become, and that makes it much harder for me to keep track of them.”

Evan grimaced.

“I’m sorry for making your life harder,” he retorted sarcastically.

“Be grateful I’m warning you. Rowan’s people are here in Rabensberg too. If I hadn’t shown up, you’d have happily walked right into their trap.”

“That’s nonsense!”

“Oh yeah?” She crossed her arms. “Then why are you in Rabensberg?”

“Well, my contact told me about a client. They want to meet me at midnight in the cathedral.”

“In the cathedral? – How ironic. Defiling a holy place of the humans with your blood would surely please Rowan very much. How reliable is your source?” Sarra inquired.

“Well, it comes from a greedy, cutthroat, and cunning rogue. How reliable can a source like that be? – But he knows I’ll slit his throat in his sleep if he deceives me, and since I’ve nearly done it before, he thinks twice before lying to me again.”

Suddenly, they both paused and listened intently.

Footsteps echoed in the narrow alley. Evan and Sarra, engrossed in their conversation, noticed the danger too late.

Sarra looked up in alarm as a beam of light spilled in from the main street.

A dark silhouette emerged, casting a shadow over the small area of the alley still illuminated by the pale sunlight.

The footsteps drew closer, and suddenly, an imposing figure stepped out of the shadow of the alley.

It was Heidenreich. He gripped his sword tightly, its blade gleaming menacingly.

Evan stared at him solemnly, while Sarra analyzed the surroundings, searching for a possible escape route.

Heidenreich’s eyes glinted dangerously as he glared at the two of them.

“The Eldári and the demon, both in one place. That suits me very well,” he said in a booming voice, his gaze shifting between Evan and Sarra.

He held his sword firmly, ready for a confrontation.

Evan took a few steps forward, his gaze calm and determined. “What do you want from us? – We haven’t done anything.”

Heidenreich’s expression darkened even more. “Haven’t done anything? – You’re responsible for the murder of Lord Johann Dancker. For that, you will face the rightful punishment.”

Evan hesitated for a moment, while Sarra continued to keep an eye on the surroundings. “I’ve heard about this already. But I must tell you, these rumors are not true. I have nothing to do with his death. Someone is trying to frame me.”

Heidenreich took a step closer, his sword still raised. “Nonsense. Don’t try to deceive me. There are countless witnesses who have confirmed you as the perpetrator. Don’t resist.”

Evan felt the tension in the air, but he remained calm. “Forgive me, but I won’t do that. Something big is happening, someone set a trap for me, and I intend to get to the bottom of it.”

Determination flared in Heidenreich’s eyes. “Come with me. Otherwise, you leave me no choice but to take other measures.”

Evans hand slowly reached for his sword hilt, as more figures appeared in the dim light of the alley.

Half a dozen city guards also emerged from the darkness, their crossbows aimed at Evan and Sarra.

“Come with me,” Heidenreich repeated with unwavering determination, “then we can resolve this without bloodshed.”

Sarra’s hand weighed heavily on Evan’s shoulder. Her eyes flashed as she pointed to a crate and then to the window ledge above it.

In a fluid dance of movement, she leaped onto the crate and then skillfully catapulted herself onto the window ledge, before gracefully climbing up onto the adjacent roof. A silent plea lay in her nod to Evan, urging him to follow her.

Heidenreich’s sword sliced through the silence as he menacingly thrust it forward, awaiting a reaction from the half-demon. But when no response came, he charged forward determinedly. His heavy boots thundered on the cobblestones of the alley.

Fueled by adrenaline, Evan leaped onto the crate with a mixture of determination and recklessness, to follow Sarra.

As agile as a panther, he balanced on the narrow window ledge before propelling himself with a powerful leap onto the opposite roof.

At the moment Heidenreich rushed towards the half-demon with a face contorted in anger and his sword raised, the whirring of a crossbow bolt sliced through the air.

A sharp gust of wind brushed against Heidenreich’s cheek as the bolt narrowly missed him.

One of the city guards had fired a shot without waiting for the captain’s command.

A piercing pain shot through Evan’s leg.

With all his strength, he managed to pull himself onto the roof and collapsed onto it.

Sarra rushed to Evan’s side and helped him up, his face contorted in pain with a bloody wound gaping on his leg.

Her eyes filled with concern as she assessed the half-demon’s condition.

Heidenreich’s anger blazed like a flame in the darkness.

His eyes pierced each of the city guards, as he asked with a booming voice, “Who fired?”

The city guards exchanged nervous glances, their faces marked by fear.

A silence fell over the group, no one wanting to take the blame, yet unwilling to shift it onto someone else.

“Idiots!” the captain thundered, “Did I give the order for that?”

Furious, he made his way through the crowd, accompanied by the fearful looks of the guards.

A disappointed sigh escaped Leuven as he packed his bag of clothes into his cart.

Not only had the innkeeper kept the advance payment for the room, he also demanded compensation for the broken window and evicted the young man from the house.

All the money he had received from Evan before was thus lost.

With a heavy heart, he walked over to his mare and stroked her soft mane. “Oh, my girl, luck was truly not on my side. I had imagined this whole thing to be easier.”

Leuven stood there, his gaze fixed on his faithful mare, his heart heavy with doubts.

The wind carried the worries of the world with it as he pondered how he had come to this point – where his last possession, which he had in the cart, held little more than memories and disappointments.

“Have I made a mistake?” he murmured, the words barely more than a whisper in the swirling wind.

His fingers ran through the soft mane of the mare, as if seeking comfort in the bond with his only companion in this harsh world.

He kept telling himself it was the right decision, yet with each passing day, doubts accumulated.

A constant longing for the distant had driven his heart, and the desire for independence had been his guide. But now, standing here and being received by the world around him with coldness and harshness, he was plagued by self-doubt.

“What do you advise?” he asked his horse softly, hoping she would actually answer him.

His hand lingered on the silky mane of the mare, who stood calmly beside him, as if she could sense his uncertainty.

A touch of melancholy filled Leuven’s eyes as he remembered the people he had left behind.

Suddenly, the thought of his father struck him, a harsh person with whom Leuven had never found a connection.

Throughout his life, duties had been paramount for his father, never what Leuven wished for, never the affection he longed for so much.

Leuven took a deep breath as he remembered the moments when he had fruitlessly sought a trace of affection from his father.

Duty had erected a wall between them, and Leuven had always wondered what feelings lay behind the wall his father had built.

“Was he really right?” Leuven whispered softly, as if hoping for an answer, as he let his gaze wander.

The countless people strolling through the streets seemed so free from bad thoughts in this moment. No thought of pain seemed to plague them at this moment.

Then Leuven heard the cry of a child and was snapped out of his thoughts.

He watched as a man, barely older than himself, lifted his daughter into his arms and comforted her after she had fallen on the hard stone floor.

The mother joined them, smiling as she kissed her child on the forehead.

As if enchanted, the excited crying turned into warm, contented laughter.

It had been a long time since Leuven had felt this warmth and security.

He looked at his mare with a sigh.

For days, Leuven had been searching for a suitable name for her. Now he had found one: “Ida”.

The name carried a certain depth, a personal meaning that moved Leuven deeply in his heart.

A gentle smile played on his lips as he spoke the name.

“Ida,” he repeated softly, while he stroked her mane with a wistful smile.

The mare seemed to acknowledge the name, and Leuven felt a comforting connection.

The name, perceived by others only as a sound, carried a burden of past memories that Leuven now kept quietly in his heart.

He approached the tense cart again and pushed aside the tarp.

His gaze rested on the crates containing the precious goods from which he hoped to build a life of peace and thoughtfulness.

He retrieved his travel bag once more.

“It’s hard for me to admit it,” the young man addressed his horse again, “but I think Evan is right. If I’m not willing to part with these things, I’ll never truly be free.”

Ida responded with a gentle whinny, a confirmation that the young merchant received with gratitude.

But suddenly, he noticed a second bag. After a brief consideration, he retrieved it.

“This belongs to Evan!” Leuven exclaimed in shock. “Oh dear, in the rush, he forgot it.”

He looked at Ida with drooping eyes.

“I bet he’ll blame me for this. Yet it was him who just vanished. I’ll return soon, and then we’ll leave this city. It’s starting to remind me more and more of my homeland,” Leuven explained, swinging his travel bag over his shoulder and disappearing into the bustling crowd lining the streets.