Splitting the Tasks

Morning mist still clung to the thatched roofs when Adonis and Elora slipped out of their rooms, eager to begin their inquiries. The sun was just rising, casting the village in a soft gold that only deepened the contrast with its whispered rumors.

They found the chief in her kitchen, brewing tea beside a window overlooking the square.

"Good morning," Adonis said quietly. "We're ready to learn more."

The chief nodded and poured each of them a cup. "Thank you both. I'll start with the earliest disappearance." She motioned them to sit.

She cleared her throat. "First was Carter—the woodcutter. He vanished two months ago. Most assumed a wild beast in the forest got him. But then more people disappeared: children, women, elderly men—no pattern."

Elora frowned. "That is strange."

Adonis leaned forward. "Who was the last villager to go missing?"

The chief glanced at a small ledger. "A boy—Levin Dawn. His grandmother, Mrs. Dawn, was with him when he vanished. You can speak with her now, if you wish."

Elora straightened. "We will. Thank you, Chief."

Outside, they paused in a quiet corner of the square.

"Before we begin," Adonis said low, "can you cast something so no one overhears us?"

Elora nodded and traced a small circle in the air. A faint shimmer rose between them—a barrier of sound. "Done."

Adonis exhaled. "There's something off about this village—and I suspect the chief knows more than she's shared. We shouldn't take her words at face value."

Elora folded her arms. "I thought the same."

Adonis met her eyes. "Here's the plan: I'll visit the old woodcutter's site and question the families whose kin have vanished. You… blend in. Ask around in the market, the tavern—any place where gossip flows. Watch for anything suspicious."

Elora frowned playfully. "Why me?"

Adonis offered a wry smile. "You look like a local little girl—not a C-rank adventurer. People will talk to you more freely. And if guards are posted, they'll likely dismiss you as harmless."

She considered the logic and nodded. "Smart. Let's reconvene tonight and compare notes."

Adonis nodded, and they stepped out of the barrier. The morning bustle resumed around them—traders calling out prices, children chasing geese—unaware of the small conspiracy taking shape in their midst

After parting ways with Adonis, Elora strolled deeper into the heart of Darknot Village. She had expected a ghost town wrapped in fear, but what greeted her was unsettling in an entirely different way—peace, laughter… too much of it.

Walking past the livestock pens, she once again spotted the young mother she had seen yesterday. A soft lullaby floated through the air as the woman rocked her baby in her arms.

Elora approached with a warm smile. "What a cute baby! Is it a girl?"

"Yes," the woman answered cheerfully. "Her name is Cecil."

"Adorable," Elora said. "Sorry, I'm Elora. I'm an adventurer investigating the disappearances."

The woman perked up. "Oh, so you're the one people are talking about! I'm Celina."

Elora hesitated a moment. "Actually… do you know anything about the recent disappearances?"

Celina nodded with the same unsettling smile. "Yes, the chief told us to avoid going out at night because of it. My husband disappeared, you know."

Elora blinked. "Your husband…? And you're smiling?"

Celina cradled the baby tighter, still beaming. "Yes. He worked hard for us. He was a good man."

"Sorry for asking, but… did you two have any fights before he vanished?"

"Of course not!" Celina replied with a cheery laugh. "He loved us dearly. But there's no need to worry—if the Sorcerer's spirit is with us, everything will be fine."

Her hands came together in a devout gesture as she laughed again, louder this time. "The Sorcerer watches over us. There's nothing to fear."

Elora took a slow step back, chills prickling her spine. This… isn't normal.

She mumbled a goodbye and walked away quickly. As she passed by the children playing in the fields, their laughter echoed—but instead of warming her, it grated on her nerves. The way they smiled… it was off, like wax figures trained to mimic joy.

Breath uneven, Elora found herself in front of a crumbling building with a wooden sign: Darknot Library.

She stepped inside, where the scent of ink and old parchment hung heavy in the air. An elderly woman at the counter looked up, peering over thick glasses.

"Welcome, child. Please read quietly," she said gently.

"I'm Elora," she said. "Could you recommend any books on the village's history?"

The woman nodded and pointed to a nearby section marked Darknot History.

Elora bowed her head gratefully and made her way over. She pulled several books from the shelves—dusty, leather-bound tomes with strange symbols on the covers—and sat down in a quiet corner.

Something's not right here, she thought as she opened the first book. If I dig deep enough… maybe I'll find the truth buried under all these smiles.