Chapter 33 — Cursed Village

Yasu tossed and turned, his sleep plagued by the haunting memories that refused to fade. His mind drifted back to that fateful rainy day, when his parents were brutally murdered by a cloaked figure. The chilling image of their lifeless bodies, sprawled beneath him, sent a shudder down his spine, jolting him awake.

He sat up abruptly, his hand clutching his chest as he gasped for breath. The room was bright, filled with sunlight—but the terror in his mind was all too vivid.

"This again..." he whispered between heavy breaths. Yasu knew he couldn't rest, not while the killer still roamed free. With a determined expression, he whispered into the sunlight, "I can't waste time," he thought stubbornly, the memory of his parents' deaths still fresh in his mind. 

Yasu pushed away the blankets and swung out of bed—ignoring the protests of his battered body as he stumbled towards his gear on shaky legs.  

"I have to find that bastard, no matter what it takes."

He dressed quickly, his movements driven by a steely determination despite the pain still lingering in every muscle.

Yasu stepped outside, pulling the hood of his cloak up to conceal his face, or at least as much as he could with the bandages still covering his wounds hiding underneath his shirt.  

He glanced around, taking in the surroundings with a mix of surprise and wariness. He'd expected more townsfolk to be out and about, but the streets were almost eerily quiet—not even a few guards on patrol anywhere in sight, just barely anyone— and yet, he could feel every eye watching him.

"Where are all the people?" Yasu wondered, his steps becoming more cautious instinctively at the almost empty streets.

Yasu's footsteps slowed as he noticed a lone shop down the street up ahead—the only sign of life in this eerily desolate town.  

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Part of him wanted to investigate, to see what the shop had to offer; but another part of him whispered of danger, of possible traps set for unsuspecting travelers...  

Yasu's gut clenched, torn between curiosity and caution. Screw it, he thought finally, pushing forward quietly towards the shop.

The shop’s interior is dimly lit by a single flickering lantern, the scent of old parchment and dried herbs hanging heavy in the air. The bald man behind the counter adjusts his round spectacles as Yasu approaches, his sharp eyes taking in every detail as the customer carefully moves despite trying and failing to look casual.  

"You're not from around here," he says flatly before Yasu can even open his mouth—no greeting, no warmth; just an observation laced with quiet suspicion.

Yasu swallows hard but keeps going: "Where am I?"

The bald man lets out a dry chuckle, leaning forward on his elbows with an expression that's equal parts amused and irritated.  

"You're in the Aberrant Thicket Forest. This village is called Tranquil Chain." He says slowly, like Yasu should have known this already. "And you should know that too—unless your memory’s as bad as your sense of direction."

Yasu bristles slightly at that but forces a tight smile, the kind that usually worked to distract people from his obvious irritation. "Lost isn't the right term, actually... Detour is more accurate."  

Yasu crosses his arms over his chest, trying in vain to look more nonchalant than he feels. "I'm just looking for something, and your little shop seemed like a good place to start."

The bald man studies Yasu for a moment longer, head tilting slightly as if considering something. A rare smirk tugs at the older man's lips, his expression shifting from suspicion to mild curiosity now.  

"Well... you do look like you've been through the wringer," he says finally, the corners of his eyes crinkling with some unnamed amusement now. "But I suppose I can be convinced to help you out, fellow adventurer..."  

He straightens up, adjusting his glasses again before continuing: "What exactly is it that you're looking for?"
Despite his determination to stay focused and unemotional, the thought of Lumina flashes through Yasu's mind unbidden—a pang of longing for one of his closest ally.
He shoves it aside quickly, forcing himself back to the present, and says in the firmest voice he can manage: "I'd like a bag of berries."  
The bald man arches a brow at the unusual request but nods slowly. "Any particular type you have in mind, or just a mix of whatever I've got? I've got plenty of options in stock."
Yasu gives a small shrug, playing along for now. "A mix is fine. I just need something to eat."  
The bald man nods, moving towards a shelf where a collection of various berries is neatly arranged in glass jars. "Fair enough." He selects a few and starts carefully filling a small sack, measuring out each type until there's a decent amount of assorted berries.  
As he does so, Yasu catches a glimpse of the other wares lined up on various shelves around them: potions, herbs, books... It's an odd assortment for such a small shop.
The bag of berries finally filled, the bald man ties it off with a length of twine and hands it over to Yasu. "Should be enough to hold you over till you find whatever it is you’re seeking," he says gruffly, his eyes flickering over Yasu's form again. "...Though I can't promise it'll be enough to fill that appetite, judging by how you look."  

Yasu ignores the subtle hint of concern and shoves the bag into his pack, slinging it over his shoulder, and reaches for coins in the bag. "How much for the berries?"

The bald man shakes his head, his eyes meeting the younger man's in a serious gesture. "You don't need to pay," he says gruffly, waving off the money. "You're an adventurer that's going to end this village's curse—the least I can do is offer some assistance to a worthy cause."  

Yasu blinked, taken aback by the gesture, and slowly pulled his hand out of the bag. "You're... serious?"

"O-oh, I mean... yeah," Yasu stammers, his mind racing to come up with a plausible excuse for his earlier confusion.  

He clears his throat, forcing a casual tone that doesn't quite reach his eyes: "I just... didn't expect that, that's all. Usually, merchants prefer payment over gratitude."  The bald man seems mildly amused by his obvious discomfort, a faint hint of a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. "Most merchants do," he agrees, leaning back against the counter. "But I'm not exactly like most merchants."

"Clearly," Yasu mutters under his breath, glancing around the shop again.  

The bald man seems satisfied enough with the faux confidence, his expression lightening slightly. "Good," he answers gruffly, resting his hands on the counter again. "Then it's settled. You should be off—no use wasting time."

Yasu nods, still feeling a bit guilty about the earlier lie. "Thank you, Mr..."  

The bald man cuts him off before he can finish. "Name's Silas," he says, not unkindly but still with that same brusque tone. "And don't go getting yourself killed out there, like some reckless idiot. You adventurers have a habit of doing that."

Yasu manages a small grin at the advice despite the edge. "Yeah, I'll be sure to avoid death as much as possible," he replies dryly, adjusting his pack on his shoulder. He takes a step towards the door before exiting.

As Yasu slips out the door and into the noon air, his mind races.  

"This place isn't normal", he thinks to himself, pulling his cloak tighter against the warm air. "The way that old man mentioned a curse... What in the world is going on here?"  

He shakes his head, pushing aside the discomfort of the situation. "I'm sure the other adventurers will save this place," he mutters under his breath, more to reassure himself than anything else.

Mean while May is seen tending to a group of chickens in a fenced-in yard nearby. The chickens clucked and pecked happily at the ground, occasionally poking their heads up to look at her eagerly.  

May grins down at the chickens, scattering a handful of feed. "There you go," she murmurs, her voice soft and affectionate. "Eat up, you little rascals."

While the little girl was feeding the chickens, May glanced up as a flutter of color caught the corner of her eye. A smile spreads over her face as the iridescent bird flies down, landing on the fence with a gentle chirp.

For a moment she just stares, frozen mid-motion with feed still clutched in one hand—utterly mesmerized by this impossible creature now watching her back from above.

Then, because apparently self-preservation isn’t part of May’s vocabulary, she slowly reaches out toward it: "Ooooh! Prettyyy~!"