CHAPTER 5

After a grueling week of travel, Dia finally arrived at Vylonia, a humble town nestled in the heart of the countryside. As she approached the entrance, the gates loomed before her, casting long shadows in the fading evening light. The sun beat down on her back, its warmth a stark contrast to the cool reception she received from the two guards stationed at the gatehouse.

As she drew closer, the guards' eyes narrowed, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. "Looks like we've got a traveler," one of them said, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "And a woman, at that. What's she doing out here all alone?"

Dia's pace remained steady, her hands held loosely at her sides in a deliberate display of peaceful intent. The guards' gazes flicked to the sword at her hip, then back to her face, where a dusting of travel grime only added to her air of quiet determination.

"Halt, traveler," one of the guards called out, his voice firm but not unfriendly. "What brings you to Vylonia?"

Dia's explanation was measured, careful to reveal just enough to satisfy the guards' curiosity without arousing undue suspicion. "I'm just a fighter passing through," she said, her tone even. "I'm on a personal quest to find some people. I mean no harm to your town or its people."

The guards exchanged a skeptical glance, their eyes lingering on Dia's worn leather armor and the sword that hung at her side. "What's your business with these people?" one of them pressed, his voice a shade sharper.

Dia's expression turned cool, her words chosen with care. "Let's just say I have unfinished business with them. I'm not looking for trouble here, though. I just need to resupply and gather some information before moving on."

After a brief consultation, the guards stepped aside, allowing Dia to enter the town. "You're welcome to stay," one of them said, his tone neutral, "but be warned: we don't take kindly to troublemakers here. If you cause any problems, you'll be dealt with swiftly."

Dia's expression remained neutral, her eyes scanning the town as she walked through the gate. "I don't intend to stay long," she said, her voice low, before disappearing into the gathering dusk

A guard appeared beside her, his eyes fixed on her sword and dagger. "Your weapons, miss," he said, his hand extended.

"I already told you I wouldn't stay long, and I'm not here to cause trouble," she replied, her eyebrow raised.

"Precaution, miss," he interrupted, his tone firm.

She eyed him warily before handing over her sword and dagger. "I expect them back when I leave," she said, her voice tight.

The guard nodded. "You'll get them back, don't worry."

As she turned to leave, his voice stopped her. "Also, we'll be keeping an eye on you."

She flashed him a fake smile. "Of course."

The market square was bustling with activity. The warm sun cast a golden glow over the scene, and the air was filled with the sounds of merchants calling out their wares, clucking chickens, and hammering on metal.

She walked through the crowd, taking in the sights and smells. Fresh produce lay spread out on wooden tables, pyramids of juicy apples and oranges enticing passersby. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, making her stomach growl with anticipation.

Nearby, a blacksmith hammered away at a glowing piece of metal, sparks flying as he shaped it into a fine sword. A crowd gathered to watch, mesmerized by his skill and strength.

On the other side of the square, merchants from far-off lands displayed their exotic wares, colorful fabrics catching the eye. The smell of dye and fabric wafted through the air, enticing shoppers to come and explore.

In the center of the square, jugglers and minstrels performed for a crowd of cheering onlookers. A jester in a brightly colored costume juggled clubs while riding a unicycle, bringing laughter and joy to all who watched.

She made her way through the crowd, her eyes scanning the stalls. The smell of roasting meats and freshly baked bread drew her to the food stalls. Her stomach growled, and she decided to buy some bread from a nearby stall.

As she filled her waterskin at the well, three men approached her. She noticed them out of the corner of her eye, but pretended not to have seen them.

"Good evening, traveler," said a man, wearing fine clothing "I'm Thomas. The reeve of Vylonia. We don't often get strangers here, especially not women traveling alone. What brings you to our town?"

Dia finished filling her waterskin and turned to face Thomas. "I'm just passing through. I decided to rest here for the night."

Thomas's eyes narrowed slightly. "My men told me you're on some kind of quest. Gathering information, maybe?"

Dia held his gaze calmly. He continued

"What kind of information? If I may ask"

Dia spoke. "You may not ask. It's personal. I do not intend to stay for long, I'll be leaving tomorrow"

Dia's expression remained neutral, but her eyes flashed with a hint of defiance.

Thomas sighed and crossed his arms. "I won't insist you tell me. But it would be rude of me not to offer you a meal. You must be tired from all your travels, a good rest would help. We could also talk and maybe I could get to know you. You're quite... fascinating."

Dia raised an eyebrow. "I'm not an artwork."

Thomas smiled. "No, I didn't mean it like that. You're just... intriguing. A woman traveling alone, carrying a high-quality sword... I'd love to hear more about your journey."

Dia's smile was polite but firm. "I'm not interested in sharing my story."

Thomas's face fell, but he recovered quickly. "Well, at least let me invite you to dinner at my manor."

Dia chuckled softly. "So you can interrogate me further?"

Thomas's face reddened. "No, I swear it's just hospitality."

Dia shook her head. "Thanks, but I don't need your hospitality."

As she walked away, Thomas's jaw clenched in frustration. He turned to his men and whispered, "Follow her. Report back to me on everything she does."

His men nodded and melted into the shadows.

Later, Dia found a room at a local tavern and lay down on the pallet, her mind racing with thoughts and doubts. She wondered if the rumors about the Red Hand were true, and cursed her own impatience. For once, she wished she knew what to do.

Uncertainty flooded her, and she felt restless. She got up and walked to the window, opening it to let in the cool night air. The scent of the earth wafted in, and she breathed deeply, feeling a sense of calm wash over her.

With a quiet sigh, she shut the windows, exited the room, and descended the stairs. The air was filled with the raucous voices of intoxicated men, their triumphant shouts and defeated groans rising from the card game at the large central table. Dia purchased a mug of ale and stood at the periphery, observing her surroundings as she breathed in the aroma of the ale, the rim of the mug near her nose.