Chapter 46 Chasing A Lead

### Chapter 46: Chasing a Lead

The moon hung high above Salevo as Trill returned to his inn, his mind racing with thoughts of the horned thief. The thief's agility, their horns, and the cryptic words they'd spoken lingered in his mind like a puzzle he couldn't solve. "You already know." What did they mean by that?

Inside his room, Bren and Lyra were waiting. Lyra looked up from her sharpening stone, her blade gleaming in the candlelight. Bren was seated on the windowsill, her gaze distant but her demeanor attentive.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Bren said, her voice cutting through the silence.

Trill closed the door and dropped into a chair. "Not a ghost," he muttered. "But maybe something just as haunting."

"Do tell," Lyra prodded, setting her blade aside.

Trill recounted the chase, his description of the thief's movements, and most importantly, the horns. Both women exchanged glances.

"A Sherpa?" Bren asked, her tone cautious.

"That's what I thought at first," Trill admitted. "But their movements, their aura… it didn't feel the same. They weren't running out of fear—they were testing me."

"Testing you for what?" Lyra leaned forward, her brows furrowed.

"I don't know," Trill said, frustration edging his voice. "But I need to find out who they are and what connection they have to Malgrin, if any."

---

The next morning, Trill decided to start his investigation at Salevo's bustling information hub, the marketplace. Bren and Lyra joined him, each keeping an eye out for anything unusual.

The market was alive with noise and activity. Merchants shouted over one another, eager to sell their wares, while travelers and locals bartered. The smell of spices, fresh bread, and roasting meats filled the air.

Trill made his way to a small, inconspicuous stall manned by a wiry man with sharp eyes. He was an information broker known as Davrin.

"Looking for something specific?" Davrin asked as Trill approached.

"Someone," Trill replied, sliding a few coins across the counter. "Horned, agile, highly skilled. They stole a scroll at last night's auction."

Davrin's eyes narrowed. "That's an expensive query."

Trill added a few more coins, and Davrin's demeanor shifted.

"Word is, the thief's name is Ares," Davrin said, leaning closer. "He's not from around here. Belongs to a tribe called the Ashura. They're known for their physical prowess and their horns. Not Sherpa, but close enough that people sometimes mistake them."

"Ashura," Trill repeated, filing the name away. "Where can I find him?"

Davrin smirked. "That's where things get tricky. The Ashura are nomads, and they don't take kindly to outsiders. But if Ares is here, he's likely meeting with someone from the resistance."

"Resistance?" Bren chimed in, stepping forward.

Davrin's smirk grew wider. "Against Malgrin. Didn't think you'd be interested in politics."

Trill ignored the jab. "Where?"

"South district. There's a safe house hidden among the abandoned warehouses. But tread lightly—those who go snooping for the resistance don't always come back."

---

By midday, Trill, Bren, and Lyra found themselves in the shadowed alleys of the south district. The air was damp and heavy with the scent of decay, a stark contrast to the lively market.

"Lovely place," Lyra muttered, her hand resting on her sword hilt.

"Stay alert," Trill warned.

The group navigated the maze of dilapidated buildings, their senses heightened. It didn't take long for them to spot movement—a flash of a cloak disappearing around a corner.

Trill signaled for silence and followed, Bren and Lyra close behind. They moved cautiously, their footsteps light.

Finally, they arrived at a crumbling warehouse. The door was slightly ajar, and faint voices could be heard inside.

Trill motioned for Bren and Lyra to stay back as he crept closer. Peering through the gap, he saw a group of figures seated around a makeshift table. Among them was Ares.

The horned man looked more at ease than he had during the auction, though his posture remained guarded. His horns glinted faintly in the dim light, and his presence commanded attention.

"You think Malgrin's forces are tracking us here?" one of the figures asked.

"They're tracking everyone," Ares replied, his voice calm but firm. "It's why we need to stay ahead of them. The scroll I took last night contains information that could turn the tide in our favor."

Trill's grip tightened on the edge of the door. He wanted to storm in, but he knew better. Patience was key.

---

The discussion inside continued, revealing snippets about the resistance's efforts against Malgrin. They spoke of stolen supplies, secret meetings, and plans to disrupt Malgrin's operations.

Finally, Trill decided to make his move. He stepped into the room, his hands raised slightly to show he wasn't a threat.

The group tensed, weapons drawn in an instant. Ares stood, his blade already in hand.

"Easy," Trill said, his tone even. "I'm not here to fight."

"And yet here you are, uninvited," Ares replied, his eyes narrowing.

"I need answers," Trill said. "About you, your tribe, and how all of this connects to Malgrin."

Ares studied him for a moment before lowering his weapon slightly. "Who are you?"

"Someone with a vested interest in taking Malgrin down," Trill replied.

The room fell silent. Finally, Ares gestured for the others to lower their weapons.

"My tribe, the Ashura, have been resisting Malgrin's tyranny for years," Ares explained. "We're not as numerous as the Sherpa, but we're just as fierce."

Trill nodded. "Why steal the scroll?"

"It contains details of Malgrin's operations in the north," Ares said. "Trade routes, supply chains, and potential allies. Information that could cripple him if used correctly."

Trill hesitated. "Why didn't you just ask for help?"

Ares laughed bitterly. "Help? From whom? The guilds? The nobles? They only care about profit and power. The Ashura have learned to fend for ourselves."

Trill couldn't argue with that.

"Look," Ares continued, "I don't know who you are or why you're so interested in Malgrin. But if you're serious about fighting him, you'll need more than just words."

Trill met Ares's gaze. "Then let's start with trust."

---

The tension in the room eased as the conversation continued. Ares and his companions shared more about the resistance's efforts and their hopes for a future free from Malgrin's control.

Before leaving, Trill offered a small vial of his alchemical concoctions as a gesture of goodwill. Ares accepted it with a nod.

As Trill, Bren, and Lyra made their way back through the alleys, Bren spoke up. "So, what's the plan now?"

"We follow the lead," Trill said. "If Ares is right, the north holds the key to stopping Malgrin."

"And what about the Ashura?" Lyra asked.

Trill glanced back at the warehouse, his mind racing with possibilities. "We'll see if their fight is one we can join. For now, we prepare."

As they disappeared into the streets of Salevo, the weight of their mission pressed down on them. The battle against Malgrin was far from over, and the path ahead was riddled with uncertainty.