Following Shadows

A thick blanket of gray clouds darkened the sky when Haruto finally reached the outskirts of Tunaust. He was exhausted, covered in dust, and his weary muscles ached with every step.

Even from this distance, the city seemed massive. Plumes of smoke rose above the rooftops, and in the absence of city walls, several watchtowers guarded the entrances.

Haruto slowed down without realizing it as he approached the towers guarding the main road. On the ground, four armed guards watched those arriving. Two motionless archers stood higher up.

He immediately pulled his hood over his head and stepped forward.

“Halt!” ordered one of the men.

A pike immediately blocked his path.

“Show your face, now!”

Haruto complied without argument. The two guards examined him briefly, then exchanged a glance.

“Never seen him here before.”

“Me neither.”

Haruto was about to breathe a sigh of relief when one of the guards pressed the issue.

“You don’t have a sword. What were you doing outside the city?”

Haruto felt his stomach clench. But then an idea flashed through his mind.

“An errand. My master sent me to Nerauskei,” he replied.

The guard snorted in disbelief.

“Nerauskei?! For an errand?”

Haruto shrugged slightly.

“I don’t ask for anything. He pays me, and I obey.”

The second guard stared at him for another moment, then spat to the side.

“You’ve got a strange face, but you’re not on any wanted list,” he said before lowering his spear.

“Go on. And get yourself a sword before you head out again. The roads aren’t safe.”

Haruto pulled his hood back over his head and nodded.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Then he walked past the checkpoint without looking back.

Inside Tunaust, Haruto was greeted by a city buzzing with activity.

Horses, carts, and market stalls overflowed onto the main street, forcing Haruto to weave his way through merchants and onlookers. The shouts, haggling, and mingled smells of smoke, food, and sweat created a stifling cacophony.

“Damn… what a mess,” he muttered.

He quickly left the main street and darted into a narrower alley, seeking a bit of peace and quiet. There, he was finally able to catch his breath.

A little further on, voices erupted in the street.

“For the umpteenth time, you’re mistaken!”

Haruto spotted a well-dressed man waving a wanted poster in front of several guards’ faces.

“Look at me! Even the blindest country bum could easily see that he doesn’t look anything like me!”

“We have orders,” replied one of the soldiers coldly.

“Stop this nonsense and come with us, or else…” added a second.

Haruto looked away. He’d seen enough to guess what awaited the poor man.

Curiosity drew him toward one of the billboards on which the kingdom posted portraits of wanted criminals.

At least a dozen scrolls were nailed to it: crude sketches of notorious bandits, thieves, and murderers. Each was accompanied by a bounty and a list of crimes. One poster caught his attention. He tore it down and slipped into a nearby alley to examine it.

The young woman depicted on it bore no resemblance to the brutes on the other posters. She had delicate features, a cold gaze… and something familiar.

“She… she looks like… Valnaya!? But how is that possible?” he panicked.

Yet the drawing seemed slightly different from what he remembered.

“Portraits are rarely accurate…”

Haruto then turned his eyes back to the document. No charges were listed. Only a bounty, the amount of which he had to read twice.

“A thousand gold pieces…!?”

The engineer fell silent for a moment. Had he really seen Valnaya on the docks that day?

“But what on earth could you have done to end up like this?”

Haruto carefully folded the parchment. He pulled his hood back over his head and headed for the poorest neighborhoods of the city.

❖

After wandering for a long time through dilapidated streets, Haruto finally found refuge in the ruins of an old house. It was overgrown with vegetation, and though its walls were still standing, the roof had collapsed long ago.

He was about to turn back when he discovered a trapdoor hidden under the rubble. Beneath it was a cellar that was still intact.

“Perfect…” he murmured.

The place was dark, dry, and, above all, inconspicuous. Haruto set up a makeshift bed and a work surface using planks salvaged from the ruins. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was more than enough to keep him out of sight.

Over the next few days, Haruto cautiously explored Tunaust. He avoided the main thoroughfares and preferred to move about at nightfall, taking advantage of the darkness. Gradually, he located several workshops and shops that might be useful to him.

A week passed in this way. In the cellar, sketches now covered the entire table. Everything was ready on paper: the barrel, the firing mechanism, and the stock.

But he still lacked the metal. So, Haruto grabbed his coin pouch, pulled his hood up, and left his hideout to find what he needed.

The merchant neighborhood was buzzing with activity. As he approached one of the main streets, Haruto ran into two men deep in conversation.

“I’m tellin’ ya, I saw her.”

“Who?”

“The chick with the weird eyes.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Yeah… They’re blue or purple… or something like that… dependin’ on how she looks at ya. Creepy.”

“So, did you try to hit on her?”

“Yeah… bad idea.”

The two friends exchanged jokes and nudges before disappearing into the crowd. Haruto continued on his way without giving it another thought.

A few minutes later, he stopped in front of a blacksmith’s shop. A large chimney spewed thick black smoke above the stone building.

“This’ll do…” he thought.

The young man took a deep breath and pushed open the door. The stifling heat and clanging of metal immediately assaulted his senses.

The blacksmith’s shop was a total mess. The furnace glowed red in one corner, while piles of scrap metal and tools were strewn everywhere.

“Wait there! I’ll be with ya in a jiffy,” bellowed someone.

The young man looked around and spotted a figure, or rather, a pair of legs sticking out from an imposing pile of scrap metal.

A stocky man finally emerged from the pile. His gray beard framed a massive jaw, and an eye patch covered the left side of his face.

“Eksmid,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Tanis,” replied Haruto.

The craftsman’s palms were calloused, and his grip was as hard as stone.

Eksmid noticed Haruto’s gaze fixed on his eye patch.

“A forge accident. It happens…” he grumbled, tapping the leather. Then he crossed his arms.

“So, what do ya want, Tanis?”

“Actually, I need your help crafting a few metal parts.”

Haruto produced several sketches from his bag and handed them to the blacksmith. Showing his plans to a stranger was a risky gamble… but he didn’t really have a choice. He kept a watchful eye on the door behind him, though.

“Hmm…”

Eksmid examined the sketches at length. His brow furrowed as he concentrated, and his single eye seemed to dart about at times.

“What are these?” he finally blurted out.

Haruto hesitated for a second.

“Parts… for a project.”

The blacksmith snorted, then spat on the ground.

“It doesn’t look like a sword… or any tool I know.”

He set the scrolls on the anvil and smoothed them out with his fingertips. The two men remained silent for a moment and then Eksmid shrugged.

“I can make that for ya. Ordinary weapons pay the bills… weird stuff makes life interestin’.”

Haruto let out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks, I…”

“On one condition,” Eksmid interrupted.

He tapped the sketches with his finger.

“I want ya to teach me somethin’ I don’t know.”

Haruto was speechless for a moment. His gaze fell on the piles of rusty blades cluttering the workshop. And an idea took root in his mind.

He’d never tried it himself… but he knew the theory. In Fantasy Frontiers, weapons forged this way almost always appeared as “rare” items.

“All right.”

Eksmid raised an eyebrow, looking as surprised as he was skeptical.

“Oh yeah?”

“I can show you how to make steel that’s stronger… and more beautiful than all this,” he said, gesturing toward the scrap metal.

A smile immediately spread across the blacksmith’s face.

“Now ya’ve got my attention.”

He stepped closer and gave Haruto a friendly pat on the back.

“It’s a deal.”

The next two days were spent between the furnace and the anvil: heating, hammering, and folding, almost without stopping. Most of the attempts, however, ended up in the ever-growing pile of scrap metal.

“Ya’ve got to break a lot of steel before ya get a good blade,” he’d said with a chuckle.

But little by little, the technique took shape as a new bar of steel glowed red on the anvil.

“Strike behind the fold,” said Haruto, who was holding the piece with long tongs.

Eksmid raised his hammer, then struck. Clang, clang, clang… non-stop, like a metronome.

After several hours, Haruto examined the metal carefully. He gave a wry smile before looking up at Eksmid.

“The welds seem to be holding this time.”

The blacksmith wiped the sweat dripping from his forehead with his gloved hand.

“Go get some rest,” he said. “I’ll finish this up.”

Haruto nodded and left the forge.

The sun was very low in the sky when Haruto returned to the shop. Eksmid was waiting for him near the anvil.

“Look at this,” he said, nodding toward the large anvil.

A blade lay there on the dark metal. Undulating patterns ran across the steel, much like moving water.

Haruto stood frozen for a moment.

“Impressive… that really is Damascus steel.”

He looked up at the blacksmith.

“Well? Satisfied?”

Eksmid immediately held out his hand to the young man.

“Ya kept your word, Tanis.”

The vise clamped down on Haruto’s hand. Then he pointed to the sketches.

“My turn now. Come back later and your stuff will be ready.”

Once the forge door closed behind him, Haruto stood motionless. His fingers were still trembling from the hammer blows, while his ears rang with the infernal clanging of the past few hours.

He knew his weapon would soon be ready. But there was still one thing left for him to do: solve the mystery of the strange woman.

The problem was simple: he knew absolutely nothing about her. Not even her name or where she came from. All he knew was that she had stolen an object found in the ruins of Pauweik.

“Where do I start?” Haruto wondered.

He closed his eyes for a moment, searching for an idea. In games and novels, where do rumors always circulate? His stomach answered quickly with a rumble.

“A tavern… of course,” he said with a smile.

The young man immediately pulled his cloak tight and headed toward the crossroad.

Night was falling when Haruto finally spotted a sign creaking in the breeze. Although it was faded and almost illegible, he could still make out the name of the establishment: The Roasted Boar.

“With a name like that, they’d better be serving some,” he thought.

The building looked just like an old European pub: dark beams, whitewashed walls, and a roof of shingles blackened by time. A warm light filtered through the windows.

Haruto pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The warmth of a stone fireplace caressed his skin as a cacophony of laughter, clinking mugs, and conversation washed over him. The air was thick with the smells of beer, smoke, and grilled meat.

He spotted a table in a dark corner and sat down. From there, he could easily survey the entire room. It was perfect.

An unshaven waiter set a mug of lukewarm beer and a piece of stale bread in front of him before disappearing.

Haruto tapped the bread on the table.

“If it doesn’t break the table, it’ll break my teeth…”

He forced himself to swallow a few pieces and made the mistake of taking a sip to wash it all down.

“Yuck! Even the worst beer I’ve ever tasted was better,” he grumbled before glancing at the people seated around him.

To his left, artisans were complaining about the price of supplies, while to his right, two guys were comparing their scars. Then an overheard remark caught his attention.

“I swear I’ve seen that woman with strange eyes before.”

Haruto lifted his head slightly.

“Her gaze… When I spoke to her, I thought she was going to cut me down right there on the spot.”

His companion, a guy with a red nose, burst out laughing.

“You must’ve run into that mercenary from the guild… The guys call her the Ice Queen…”

“And she doesn’t travel alone, either.”

The man then drained his mug before slamming it down on the table.

“There’s also that guy trailing behind her… A real watchdog…”

Haruto raised his mug to his lips, this time pretending to drink.

“And do you know what they’re doing here?” asked one of the men.

His companion shook his head.

“No, but there’s a rumor going around,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“According to some, they’ve visited almost every shop around here…”

The man with the red nose let out a hiccup, then scratched his beard before continuing.

“They’re supposedly trying to find out more about an object…”

Haruto frowned, puzzled. An object…

The old man then leaned toward his friend.

“Be careful around her. My niece says she recognized her.”

“Recognized her?”

“Yeah… She might be a noblewoman.”

A silence fell between the two men.

“Or worse.”

“Worse? What do you mean?”

“A runaway fugitive…”

Haruto lowered his eyes to his mug. The din of the tavern suddenly seemed more distant to him.

“A mercenary woman traveling with someone… and looking for information about an object,” he thought.

The theory held up.

A few minutes later, Haruto stood up without a word and left a few coins on the table before leaving the establishment.

Outside, the cold and darkness of the night had settled over Tunaust. Haruto pulled his cloak tighter around him.

“There’s no point in trying to tail her at this hour. I’ll get to it tomorrow,” he decided.

A rooster’s crow woke Haruto at dawn. He didn’t waste a second; he slipped on his cloak and left his hideout, heading straight for the mercenary guild.

When he reached the central crossroad, some passersby had kindly shown him the way to the right building. It was a large stone mansion with a metal roof covered in greenish rust.

“Hard to miss,” Haruto murmured.

He stopped about twenty meters from the entrance and watched the comings and goings. After a few minutes, he spotted a dark alleyway offering a perfect view of the door.

“Great,” he thought to himself.

Haruto slipped into it and waited. An hour passed, followed by another. Mercenaries came and went from the building, but none matched the description he’d heard at the tavern.

The young man felt his stomach growl.

“What a waste of time…”

He was about to leave when a woman finally stepped through the guild’s door. Haruto froze in his tracks before taking a good look at her. She had short, dark hair and was wearing light armor, with a sword hung at her side. As for her blue eyes… they were cold, yet captivating.

“It’s her… and I have this strange feeling that I’ve seen her somewhere before…” he whispered.

A massive man emerged right behind her. With his broad shoulders and blond hair, he looked about as welcoming as a wall.

“Great… she really does have a bodyguard.”

The two mercenaries headed down the main street. Haruto followed them at a distance. He stopped every now and then, pretending to be interested in the market stalls along the way.

After about thirty minutes, the woman and the man entered an old inn. Haruto looked up at the sign: The Wandering Cat.

“What a strange name…”

He hesitated for a moment, having no plan for what to do next. Haruto shook his head to shake off his doubts. Determined to find out more, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The place was almost empty. There was no sign of the woman or her companion. However, there was a staircase leading up to the second floor.

Haruto approached the counter at the back of the room and spoke to the woman behind it.

“Um… Hello. Would it be possible to rent a room for a few nights?”

The proprietress nodded. “Yes, of course. It’s six silver coins per week.”

Haruto took the coins out of his pouch and paid the woman. With his room number in hand, he hurried up the stairs and found himself at the end of a narrow hallway. There were five doors on each side, each marked with a number carved directly into the wood.

At the far end was the blond guard. He was stationed in front of one of the doors and barely bothered to glance at Haruto.

“If he’s here, then she is too,” he thought.

Haruto swiftly entered the room he’d been assigned. As soon as he closed the door behind him, he pressed an ear against it. He was sweating with nervousness, and his heart was pounding.

“Calm down, for heaven’s sake!”

He heard the squeak of a door being opened, then shut with a dull thud. Then came the sound of footsteps. And after what seemed like an eternity, the stairs finally creaked.

Haruto waited another minute but heard no more sounds. With trembling hands, he opened the door and dared to peek down the hallway.

Seeing no one, he stepped out and hurried toward the room that had been guarded mere moments ago.

“It’s now or never…”

He turned the doorknob. No lock.

“Phew… just like mine.”

The room was almost empty. There was a simple bed, along with a table and a chair. On the back wall, a half-open window let in light from outside.

Haruto quickly but methodically searched the room. First, he lifted the sheets off the bed, then inspected the walls.

“There’s nothing in this damn room!?”

He knelt down and tapped the floor. His persistence was finally rewarded with a sound coming from one of the floorboards. A hollow sound.

“Bingo.”

Using his knife as a lever, he pried up the plank, which gave way with a loud crack. A cavity appeared before his eyes, and at the bottom lay a canvas bag.

Haruto pulled it out and emptied its contents onto the bed. He froze. Then he felt the blood drain from his face.

A phone... his phone! And next to it, the charred remains of his encyclopedia.

“Uh…? What the hell are my things doing here?!”

He picked up the phone almost reverently and pressed a button. The screen lit up dimly. The battery was almost dead, and there was still no signal.

“Unbelievable… So that thug Skotto had been telling the truth after all,” he thought.

Haruto quickly pocketed the phone and turned his attention back to the other objects. The book was now of little value, but there was more. A finely crafted signet ring and a small golden badge. Haruto reached out to examine the badge when someone knocked on the door.

“Housekeeping!” a voice announced. The door opened and a woman walked in. Her gaze first fell on Haruto, who was holding the ring and the badge. Then she saw the sheets on the floor and the gaping hole in the middle of the room. She dropped her cleaning supplies before letting out a blood-curdling scream.

“Shit!”

Haruto had only a split second to stuff his findings into the bag. Hurried footsteps were already coming up the stairs. Without thinking twice, he grabbed the chair and hurled it with all his might at the window. The glass shattered, and he jumped through it.

His fall was cushioned by a merchant’s cart parked right below. Haruto rolled on the ground, stunned.

Shouts erupted from all sides. And at the end of the street, Tunaust’s guards were rushing over.

“Great… things are just getting better and better,” he muttered.

Haruto took a deep breath, then started running in the opposite direction. He darted into the first alley he could find before disappearing.

❖

Several hours later, Lena and Hilde were on their way back to the inn. They had spent much of the day searching for craftspeople who could identify the strange object stolen from Skotto.

“I wonder if we’ll ever find out more,” Lena said.

“Maybe. But I still think we should be careful with such a… thing. Especially if the Church is involved,” Hilde replied.

The princess and her guard walked for a few more minutes before they spotted the Wandering Cat. Hilde stopped abruptly and placed a gloved hand on the young woman’s shoulder.

“Something’s happened,” he said, alarmed.

“What do you mean?”

He pointed down the street with his index finger.

“Look. The cart… and the window.”

Lena’s heart raced when she noticed the cart parked right beneath a shattered window.

“Don’t tell me that…”

The princess ran toward the building, Hildebrand close behind.

No sooner had she crossed the threshold than the proprietress approached, visibly uncomfortable.

“Ma’am… I’m afraid there’s been an incident. A housekeeper caught a stranger in your room earlier today. Fortunately, no one was hurt.”

Lena wasn’t listening to her. She rushed toward the staircase and climbed it at a dizzying speed.

“Lena, wait!” Hilde called out.

But she was already upstairs. When Lena entered the bedroom, panting, she was met by a cold draft. Then she saw the damage with horror.

Sheets were strewn across the floor. Shards of glass were scattered everywhere. And in the middle of the room, a floorboard had been torn out.

Lena slowly approached the hidden compartment, dreading what she was about to discover. She leaned over. The space was empty. Nothing remained.

“Everything… everything’s gone,” she whispered before falling to her knees. Her hands were trembling.

“Even my father’s signet ring…”

Hilde arrived in the bedroom a few moments later, clearly out of breath. He took a step toward her, ready to comfort her, then stopped.

A shiver ran through him, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Lena…?”

The young woman stood up and turned toward her companion, her fists clenched. Her azure irises glowed with that strange light. Slowly, their color shifted to mauve.

A low hum filled the room.

“Someone spoke,” she said in an icy voice.

Hilde stepped back involuntarily.

“Someone dared to speak… and I intend to make them regret it!” she spat.

On the first floor, a man with a black beard and a scar on his cheek was quietly chewing on a piece of bread. He had witnessed the exchange between the mercenary woman and the innkeeper.

When he felt a strange vibration ripple through the building and into his own flesh, a subtle smile spread across his lips. He placed two coins on the table and stepped out onto the street.

“I think we’ve finally found her.”