A Game of Shadows

Morning came too soon.

Arlan sat on the edge of his cot, fastening his boots while Bones chittered softly on the nightstand. The skeletal rat was oddly quiet, his glowing green eyes locked onto Arlan.

Arlan sighed. Yeah, buddy. I know. Bad idea.

The plan wasn't perfect, but it was simple: Arlan would walk through the town alone, giving their unknown stalker a chance to act. The others would follow from a distance, ready to step in if things went south.

He didn't love the plan, but they had to figure out who this guy was before it was too late.

A soft knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.

Mira.

She stepped inside, arms folded, a frown etched deep into her features. She was already dressed, her staff slung across her back, and her hair was still slightly damp—she must have been up early.

Arlan raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

Mira closed the door behind her, hesitating before speaking. "I still don't like this."

Arlan smirked. "You said that last night."

"I still mean it." She huffed, running a hand through her damp hair. Then, suddenly, her expression shifted. Less annoyed. More… something else.

For the first time since Duskhaven fell, she looked unsure.

Arlan blinked. Wait, was she… worried?

Mira crossed her arms. "Look, I know you think this is the best way to draw him out, but that doesn't mean you need to be reckless."

"I'm always reckless."

Mira rolled her eyes. "I know. That's what worries me."

Arlan opened his mouth to respond, but froze when she took a step closer.

Her usual sharp stare was softer now, and her voice was quieter when she spoke.

"…Just don't do anything stupid, okay?"

Arlan swallowed. His brain stalled.

Was this Mira saying she was worried about him?

Mira, who had always been the logical one, the one who never hesitated to call him an idiot when he deserved it?

His heart did a weird thing in his chest.

"I'll be fine," he said, forcing his usual grin. "I always am."

Mira narrowed her eyes. "That's the biggest lie you've ever told me."

Arlan chuckled. If only she knew ..

Mira sighed. Then—before he could react—she reached forward and pulled his cloak tighter around him.

It was a small gesture. Barely anything. But the way her fingers lingered for just a second too long, the way she glanced away after, like she realized what she had done—

Yeah.

Arlan noticed.

She cleared her throat, stepping back quickly. "Just… be careful."

Arlan stared at her.

Then he grinned.

"Are you getting soft on me, Mira?"

Mira snapped back instantly. "Don't push it."

But her ears were a little pink when she turned away.

Arlan decided to count that as a win.

The Trap is Set

The town was alive with morning activity. Merchants called from their stalls, craftsmen clanged away at their forges, and the scent of fresh bread mixed with the damp, earthy smell of the cobbled streets.

Arlan moved casually, hands in his cloak, acting as if he wasn't bait in his own trap.

He had no idea if their stalker would take the bait.

But the feeling of being watched had returned.

His instincts were screaming at him.

Somewhere in the crowd—someone was watching.

The Chase Begins

It happened fast.

One moment, Arlan was walking through the marketplace. The next—his pulse spiked.

A figure moved at the edge of his vision. A blur of dark clothing slipping between two buildings.

Arlan didn't react immediately.

Instead, he slowed his pace, veering toward a side street, leading their unknown pursuer somewhere quieter.

And just as expected—

The figure followed.

Arlan turned a corner, stepping into one of the narrow alleyways behind the market. The shadows here were thicker, the noise of the town fading.

Then—he stopped.

His hands clenched.

A single word pulsed through his mind.

Now.

He spun on his heel, just as the figure stepped into the alley.

Their stalker froze.

Face to Face

The man was tall, wrapped in a dark hooded cloak, his posture too controlled to be just some common thief.

Arlan grinned, though his muscles tensed. "You've been following me."

The figure didn't answer immediately. Then—a chuckle.

Low. Amused.

"I suppose I have."

Arlan's grin tightened. "Why?"

The man took a slow step forward.

"Because you interest me."

Arlan hated how much that sent a chill down his spine.