At the same time, Murmurs danced wildly within Unen’s ears—Murmurs of unknown gender and age that, perhaps, were not even made by a voice at all. Nevertheless, they were an undulation that made her feel someone or something’s presence.
“D-Don’t tell me…y-you are…the real Two-headed Griffin?!” the fake mage cried, before frantically rolling on the ground to put out the flames billowing from his clothes.
“Can I get you to stop using that shameful moniker?” The real mage’s shoulders drooped with a massive sigh. “Right then, which of you is going to surrender first? I’m holding a special,” he intoned with amusement, holding up some rope, “whoever willingly gets tied up doesn’t get barbecued tonight.”
✦ ✦ ✦
“My name is Mouru. My companion Ori has been indebted to you these past few days,” the mage formally introduced himself, after they had tied up the grand total of eleven bandits with rope. He shook hands with Unen and Irena, smiling brightly.
“Show up sooner if I’m your companion.” Ori made no attempt to hide his displeasure.
Mouru waved his right hand dismissively. “Nothing to be embittered about, since I made it in time. Anyhow—oh, they’re here, they’re here. I did think they’d show up soon.”
Shading his eyes with his right hand, Mouru looked to the east. Following suit, Unen and the others turned and spotted several horses coming their way in the distance.
“It looked like things were getting messy, so I sent a message over the wind to the castle. As much as the lord doesn’t want to spur dissension, there’s no way he can let this level of violence go unchecked.”
Sure enough, as Mouru said, people from Lord Baborak’s castle arrived on the horses. They hadn’t expected to find the circumstances so troubling. One of them was sent back in a hurry to call for a castle carriage to transport the eleven bandits.
Unen’s group was informed they needed to go to Lord Baborak’s castle with them to give an in-depth explanation of what had transpired. Hearing that Ori asked to borrow a horse to quickly gather the belongings they had left at their camp from one of the castle soldiers, Unen decided to thank him and headed over to the large boulder where the horses were tied up.
She suddenly stopped just before the boulder when she heard the same stern voice she had when she first met Ori.
“Apparently, he had a single child. Though it seems the child died in an earthquake.”
They’re talking about Hereh. Unen caught her breath.
“I confirmed a small grave behind the cabin where he lived.”
“I see. So that’s why his location was exposed.” Mouru’s voice was always aloof, but sometimes it seeped with a biting coldness enough to rack the listener with chills, like a frigid wind sweeping up from a deep chasm.
“There’s no way those who were after him wouldn’t catch wind of his whereabouts if he used suspicious spells and skills in the same place for any amount of time. And he knows that. Yet, this time he stayed put until the last possible second. Just goes to show that your theory he had something keeping him in the town of Yezero was on the mark. A brilliant guess of yours, really!” Mouru saluted Ori as if to make fun of him.
Ori’s response carried a tone as sharp as knives. “But at the very end, he abandoned everything and ran—again.”
There was a short pause.
“I don’t think that’s the case,” Mouru said softly.
Though it was the height of summer, Unen felt an icy air coil around her legs. Standing rock-still, she shivered.