Of Her - Continued (Eighty-Days)

It was quiet. Eryn stood in the middle of the market, his hands gripped tightly around the sword. The wood of the market stalls scattered, laid across the open square. Liora stood next to Eryn.

"Nia, can you get anything form this?" Liora asked, breaking the quiet.

"I'll give it a try,"

Nia's eyes glistened and blackened. She looked down at the corpse laid out.

"Certainly dead before coming," she twitched.

"These are patrols," Nia continued.

"Seems like things have gotten to this point," Eight said. "We're either the target or unlucky."

"Makes no sense," Roan muttered. "Why show up in the middle of the day?"

"That's the problem," Eight said. "This side of Veldria is in trouble."

Liora sheathed her blade. "Then we need to be quick."

They turned to leave the market, their steps hastened. The wind picked up, Eryn felt it linger around his ear, as if speaking to him.

He clenched his jaw. "Where is the other squad?"

Liora wrapped her hand on his back, "We meet at dusk."

"Let's make our way," Eight stared ahead. "The sun is going down."

"Where are we meeting?" Roan asked.

"Tavern called 'Miranda's." Eight replied, her voice steady and sharp. "We need to plan our next move."

The sky above shifted, colors bleeding into one another as dusk approached. The tension hung in the air, palpable and heavy.

Ahead, the tavern's sign creaked in the breeze, the faint glow of lanterns casting long, flickering shapes against the walls. Eight pushed open the door, the wood groaning under her hand. Inside, the room was sparse—tables and chairs scattered, a low fire burning.

They slipped in silently. The barkeep gave a nod but said nothing. They found a table near the back, away from the few patrons lingering. Eryn leaned his sword against the wall, his eyes scanning the room.

"How long do we wait?" Roan asked, his voice low.

"Not long," Eight replied. "They'll be here."

Minutes passed. The door opened again, and two figures entered, cloaked and hooded. They moved toward the table, their steps purposeful. The taller of the two lowered their hood—bronze skin, a scar running down one cheek.

"You're late," Eight said, no greeting in her voice.

"Ran into some trouble," the man replied, straight to the point. He glanced around. "This place secure?"

"As much as anywhere," Liora said.

The second figure pulled back their hood—a woman, her hair cropped short, eyes darting between them. She sat down, her hands resting lightly on the table.

"We're not safe here for long," she said. "They're moving fast. Whatever's coming, it's bigger than we thought."

"We know," Eight replied.

"What's the next move?" Roan asked, smirking as he looked at the two.

"Lay low and recon." The scarred man said, "they're aware of us. We lay low. We investigate."

"Sounds like the thieves den alright," Roan smiled. 

Eryn's gaze didn't waver from the scarred man. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, ready for anything.

"Lay low and recon?" Liora's voice was sharp. "We don't have time for that."

The woman leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "If we rush, we're done for. We need to know what we're dealing with."

Eight nodded, her fingers tapping lightly on the table. "She's right. We need information."

Roan leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "So, we play it safe for now. Fine. But what happens when they find us?"

"Fight and investigate," Nia interrupted. "I saw evil in their magic. Something that stopped me from looking past."

"Then we need to find out what that is," the woman said. "We meet here every night."

They pulled their hoods over their head and faded into the shadows. 

Eryn didn't move as the others began to settle into a quiet hum of conversation. The feeling of unease hadn't left him, and the shadow of the unknown seemed to stretch longer than the night.

Liora tapped her fingers on the table, her gaze fixed on the door. "We've got to move faster. Every minute we wait is another minute they're setting something up."

Eryn kept his eyes trained on the entrance.

Roan's voice broke through his concentration. "They'll come for us, sure."

"Val is still missing." Liora muttered under her breath.

There was a long silence. Eryn shifted his weight slightly, leaning forward just enough to catch Nia's eye. 

"What did you mean by 'evil magic'?" he asked.

She swept her gaze up to both him and Eight. "It feels like death would be mercy to whoever is trapped in dark nightmares."

Eryn glanced toward the fire. "Could death be better than nightmares?" he muttered to himself.

"Nightmares?" Roan asked, breaking the quiet with a half-laugh. "You sound like one of those old legends."

Nia didn't smile. "These aren't legends," she said, her voice steady but filled with the weight of something far older. "This magic is twisted. I've felt it before. It's not just control, it's... corruption."

The room was silent for a moment.

The flickering flames cast long shadows across the tavern, distorting the faces of the few patrons who had settled into their quiet corners. Eryn's thoughts moved, heavy like the air around them. He glanced at Nia again, her dark eyes unreadable, but there was something in her expression—something darker than the dim light around them.

Liora's voice cut through the stillness, sharp and unwavering. "Then we need to find out where it's coming from. Fast."

Roan pushed himself up from his chair. "Agreed. Where do we start? The market was a warning, sure, but that's just the tip. If they're already on us, they're watching. They'll know where we go."

"That's the problem," Eight said. "We're pulling the tiger's tail."

Liora placed her hands on the table, "Let Eryn and Roan figure this out."

Roan smiled, "That might work. It's good thinking."

"What are we talking about?" Eryn replied.

"It's what makes us The King Breakers." Liora smiled.