Capítulo 23: A not so old friend
The night crept in quietly, the sky transforming into a deep, star-studded black. Eric and I decided to set up camp in a small clearing off the main trail. It was a silent agreement, the horses needing rest as much as we did. We dismounted, the chill of the evening air brushing against our skin. Eric gathered dry wood, and soon we had a small campfire crackling between us, casting long shadows that danced against the trees surrounding our camp.
The fire's warm glow lit Eric's face, highlighting the tiredness etched around his eyes. He stretched his legs out, resting his back against a fallen log. I did the same, feeling the exhaustion settling in. It had been a long day.
"Here's something you probably haven't learned in the books," Eric began suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. He poked the fire with a stick, sending a few sparks spiraling into the air. "Not every demon dies when you chop off their head."
I glanced at him, brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"
"Some of the older ones, the more dangerous ones… they're resilient. You can hack and slash all you want—heads, limbs, whatever—won't make a damn difference." He leaned closer to the fire, his expression turning grim. "Only way to make sure they're dead is to expose them to sunlight. Watch them burn until there's nothing left but ashes."
I nodded slowly, processing the information. That explained why some hunters carried strange weapons or worked in pairs, one to fight and one to hold out until dawn. "Good to know," I muttered.
"Yeah. Just be on guard. They're tricky bastards, the lot of them."
With that, Eric fell silent, his gaze distant as he stared into the fire. Moments later, his head lolled to the side, his breathing steadying as sleep took him.
I stayed awake, letting the fire's warmth seep into my bones. I reached into my satchel, retrieving a small piece of parchment and a charcoal pencil. The idea of writing Sophie seemed odd at first, but as I stared at the blank sheet, I realized I had more to say than I thought.
---
Dear Sophie,
I thought I'd write to let you know how things have been. We've made it through the first trial—some barely did. But I've been assigned to Eric, the guy I mentioned meeting at the tavern. He seems competent enough. He's more talkative than you, I'll say that much.
The missions aren't exactly what I expected. There's a lot they don't tell us.
But that's not what I'm most curious about.
You trained like the rest of us. Maybe harder than most. So why didn't you join the Corp? You'd have made it through the trials with ease, and yet… you didn't. Not that it's my business, but it's been on my mind since we parted ways.
Either way, I hope you're doing well, wherever you are.
- Zark
---
I folded the letter carefully, securing it with a piece of twine before attaching it to my raven's leg. The bird ruffled its feathers, eyeing me curiously as if wondering where it was headed.
"Take this to Sophie," I whispered.
With a flap of its wings, the raven took off into the night sky, disappearing into the darkness above. I watched it go, the fire crackling softly beside me.
I had more questions than answers. For now, though, I'd have to settle for waiting—waiting for dawn, waiting for a reply, and waiting for whatever challenges lay ahead.
The first light of dawn broke over the horizon, casting a muted glow on the landscape as Eric and I resumed our journey. The air was crisp, and the morning mist clung to the ground, swirling around our horses' hooves as we rode. As we approached the village, a sense of foreboding settled over me.
The village lay ahead, draped in a shroud of desolation. The houses were worn and weathered, their roofs sagging as if burdened by an unseen weight. Smoke curled lazily from the chimneys, and the few villagers we encountered hurried about their business, casting furtive glances in our direction. Their expressions were clouded with fear, a palpable tension hanging in the air.
"This place is a graveyard," I muttered under my breath as we rode in.
"Just wait," Eric replied, his voice low. "You'll see how fear can grip a community."
He guided us toward the local church, a modest structure that seemed out of place amidst the despair. The wooden doors stood slightly ajar, and a faint sound of muffled voices drifted out. We dismounted and tied our horses to the post outside, and Eric gestured for me to follow him inside.
The interior of the church was dimly lit, with rows of weathered pews facing a small altar adorned with flickering candles. A handful of villagers knelt in prayer, their voices a soft murmur in the quiet space. I took a moment to observe the scene, noting the desperation etched on their faces, the way their hands trembled as they clasped together in supplication.
Eric leaned against a wooden beam, arms crossed, waiting patiently for the prayers to end. I could sense his anticipation, the way he prepared himself for the next step in our mission.
Finally, the prayer concluded, and the villagers rose to their feet, casting cautious glances toward us. Eric stepped forward, raising his voice to address the congregation. "People of this village, I am Eric, assigned by the administration to investigate the recent disappearances of your children."
A hush fell over the room. The air grew thick with tension as the villagers exchanged anxious looks. "Tonight, my assistant and I will patrol the village to uncover the truth behind these horrors," he continued, his tone authoritative yet measured. "I urge you to remain vigilant and report any unusual activity to us."
An elderly woman stepped forward, her hands shaking as she spoke. "We've done all we can, but the demon… she comes at night. We hear the cries of the children, but no one dares to venture out."
Eric nodded solemnly. "We will do everything in our power to protect you and bring this demon to justice. But we need your cooperation. If you see or hear anything strange, do not hesitate to tell us. Your safety is our priority."
The villagers murmured among themselves, fear still etched on their faces. I watched as Eric spoke, realizing how crucial it was to gain their trust. He understood the weight of our responsibility, how fragile their hope was in the face of such terror.
After the meeting, we stepped out of the church and walked through the narrow, dirt-laden streets. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows that danced eerily along the ground. I could feel the weight of the villagers' eyes on us, their fear palpable as they retreated into their homes.
"See?" Eric said quietly, his gaze scanning the surroundings. "This is a vital part of our job—handling civilians, understanding their fears. We need their trust if we're going to succeed."
"Yeah, I get that," I replied, still feeling the tension in the air. "But what if they don't trust us? What if they see us as just another set of outsiders?"
Eric shrugged, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That's where you come in. Your reputation may help us bridge that gap. Just stay sharp, and don't let your guard down."
We moved toward the edge of the village, preparing ourselves for the long hours ahead. As the sun began its descent, casting a golden hue across the land, I felt the weight of the task before us settling in. We had a demon to hunt, and I hoped the villagers' fears wouldn't be in vain.
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