The darkness behind rest

The sun began to disappear behind the numerous huts that littered the centre of the village, the night sky creeping up in its place. The road that forked from the pub bent and led through hills to the farmland that encompassed the area. The four followed in silence, their boots kicking dirt and stones forward, their bodies weighed down by fatigue and unease. Darius walked ahead, his steps heavy like he’d made this journey frequently. He hadn’t spoken much since the pub – except the occasional “stay close” and “keep up”.

The smell of livestock and disturbed ground grew stronger the further from the village they got, the buildings replaced by tilled land and creatures that strongly resembled sheep but hard scales coating their legs. As they got further in, a farmhouse came into view. Its roof sagged in places, and smoke puffed out of the chimney, with the sound of pots rattling inside. Outside the large wooden door chickens scattered across the yard, making more noise the closer they got, clearly accustomed to the presence of people. Darius came to a stop and rapped his knuckles on the door, shouting as he did, “Rod, it’s me. I’ve got something for ya!” He took a step back from the door, and shuffling grew louder from inside. A large man with a withered face and dirty blonde hair with hints of grey opened the door with a grunt. “Yeah, what is it?” Clearly disapproving of having been bothered. His eyes flicked from Darius to the group behind him. “What’s this? It’s just some whelps?” His voice was tired and gravelly as he stared at the teens. Hibiki made a noise as if about to introduce himself before he got a light shove from Darius. “Got some strays for ye; they need somewhere to stay until they get themselves in’t the city. I reckon they’d sort your pest issue out, and you can use em around the farm until they get going.”

Roderick had another glance at the teens, focusing on their outfits and builds. “They certainly don’t look like farmhands; strange clothes too. “What’s going on, Darius?” Darius answered quickly as if to sway suspicion, “Ay, they aren’t from here, but they’ll pull their weight. Don’t worry about their clothes, here” He throws Roderick a silver coin, Roderick catching it deftly. “I’m sure some of your younguns old rags will do; that’ll replace what they have, what ya say willing to give em a hand?”

For a while, silence was the only thing that lingered, and none of the teens could even bring themself to consciously take a breath. Roderick sighed, rubbing his chin and pocketing the coin. “Fine. The barn’s empty; you’s can sleep there, and as long as you work, I’ll feed ya, tomorra you can sort the pests out; something’s been gnawing at the grain. After that, odd jobs for as long as ya stay, got it?”

“Right, I’ll leave em with ya” Darius gave them all a nod as he began to walk away. “Come and give me a visit in a few days at the tavern, and keep out of trouble.” Roderick looked at the teens and in his gruff voice muttered at them, “Wait here.” After a few minutes he emerged with what looked like fabric. “Here,” he grunted, tossing a pile at each of them; they were outfits, created from rough fabric and bits of leather. As if irritated by the effort needed, he guided them outside to an old building and beckoned them in. The barn creaked as they stepped inside, pieces of straw getting kicked up into the air, dust rising from the pillars to each side.

Overhead stretched beams coated in a layer of grime, the smell of grain filling the place. A single lantern lit the area from a pole opposite the food, its flame flickering gently in the wind. “This is where you’re staying; don’t touch anything that aint yours.” If you’re soft, you won’t last.” With that, he pulled the door shut, leaving them in the dim glow.

The four exchanged glances. Hibiki dropped down first, sprawling into the hay with a grin. “Hey, it’s not so bad. Better than the floor at the hideout, right?” His words bounced against the silence, but no one laughed. Alice sat slowly, hands clutching her knees, her eyes fixed on the wooden planks beneath her. Miyako lay back against the wall, arms crossed, studying the lantern as though searching for cracks in its light. Ren stayed standing, watching the door. The clothes Roderick gave them smelt of soil and smoke; rough with leather patches, they hung awkwardly on their frames. Hibiki tugged at his sleeves with a crooked grin. “Guess we won’t stand out now—we just look like peasants.” Alice smoothed her faded skirt, voice soft. “Still feels like we’re wearing someone else’s lives.”

That night was long. The wind whistled through the gaps in the walls, carrying with it faint scratching from outside. At first it sounded like rats, but the noises grew louder—gnawing, clawing, something dragging across wood. Roderick’s warning came back to them.

By morning, Roderick was waiting with his sleeves rolled up, a pitchfork in one hand. “Right then. Pests’re at the grain shed. Been eating me out of stock for weeks. Do somethin’ about it.” He shoved the shed door open, the smell of rot and damp wheat rushing out. Small, rat-like creatures with long needle teeth and slick black hides scattered as the light hit them, hissing as they darted between sacks.

“Ugh, gross!” Hibiki gagged, grabbing a stick and smacking at the nearest one, only for it to sink its teeth into the wood. Ren slammed a sack over another, holding it down with his weight. Alice flinched as one scuttled toward her, only for Miyako to step forward and kick it hard against the wall. One of the creatures leapt at her face, teeth bared. Time seemed to slow for a heartbeat—her vision blurring, her chest tightening, a suffocating cold crawling up her arms. Darkness welled up at the edge of her sight, and she collapsed.

When her eyes snapped open again, the shed was silent. Four of the creatures lay broken on the floor, their twisted bodies scattered around her in a pool of blood. At her feet stretched a long shadow, dark and deep. It shivered faintly—then disappeared when she blinked. Ren caught her arm. “Miyako—” But she shook her head sharply, refusing to meet his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Just kill the rest.” By the time they finished, blood and scraps of black fur littered the shed. Roderick inspected the mess, gave a short grunt, and tossed them each a small loaf of bread. “Not bad. You’ll do.” That was all the praise they would get.

At night, the unease returned. The following days passed in a blur, chores and hard labour stealing away most of the day. Feeding the chimaera sheep, as they'd come to know them, repairing splintered and damaged fences, hauling buckets from the well—it was all unfamiliar, but it left them too tired to complain. The barn was draughty and smelt of hay, but it was a roof, and the scraps of bread and stew Roderick offered kept them going.

When the work was done, they’d slipped away to explore. The village stretched wider than they’d first thought—stalls with dried fish strung in rows, baskets of berries spilling over, merchants shouting prices above the noise of carts and children. Lanterns filled with tiny, impossible lights that still confused them lined the dirt streets, casting everything in a soft glow as evening fell.

Something unsettling beneath the bustle, however. As they turned down a quieter lane, Alice tugged at Ren’s sleeve and pointed. Across the way, three figures in dark robes slipped between houses, their movements deliberate, faces hidden under hoods. For a moment, one of them paused. A pale hand emerged from the sleeve, clutching something small and glinting faintly—a charm, or maybe a shard of glass. Their head turned slightly, as if sensing the group’s eyes on them. Miyako shivered. “Let’s go.” The others didn’t argue, sensing an urgency and fear in the voice they’d never expect from her. They turned quickly, heading back toward the main road. The noise of the market soon drowned out the image, but the weight of those hooded figures lingered.

That night, Darius found them in the barn, a half-empty flask dangling from his fingers. He dropped down onto a hay bale with a grunt. “I thought we were going to meet you at the tavern?” Hibiki asked, not hiding his surprise. Darius smirked, “I got bored waiting, but I see you’ve managed not to get yourselves killed yet. Good sign.” He pulled out a folded stack of papers, giving them a once-over before tossing four onto the straw at their feet. Each bore a crude seal pressed in wax.

“Papers,” he said simply. “Not perfect, but good enough to get you through the gate if you keep your mouths shut. Don’t push your luck—guards’ll spot you as green the moment you open it.” Ren picked his up carefully, running a thumb over the seal. “You… you didn’t have to do this.”

Darius shrugged, taking a long swig from his flask. “Didn’t have to. Still did. Just don’t expect more from me after this. You lot need to stand on your own feet if you want to last in the city.” Miyako tucked hers away, eyes narrowing. “Why help us at all?” He chuckled. “Call it a gamble.” His grin was tired but sharp. “Sometimes strays turn out useful.” The barn grew quiet as he left them to their thoughts. The faint light of the lantern outside spilt through the cracks in the boards, stretching shadows long across the hay. Tomorrow, they would step through the city gates.