The next day, Eamon decided to stay back with Korran while Damien went into town to gather more information. The air was heavy with the scent of rain, clouds rolling low over the rooftops of Misticula.
Damien pulled his hood low and walked through the narrow, cobblestoned streets. Merchants shouted from their stalls, children ran between legs, and guards in black-and-gold armor patrolled the alleys, their spears gleaming in the dim morning light. He moved quietly, listening, observing — every word could be a clue.
As he turned a corner near the town square, his shoulder slammed hard into another man.
"Sorry, sir! I didn't see you," Damien said quickly, taking a step back.
The man straightened his fine dark robes, glaring with cold blue eyes that carried both authority and arrogance. His tone was sharp as steel.
"That doesn't concern me," he said. "Watch where you're going, fool."
For a moment, Damien's fists clenched at his sides. His first instinct was to grab the man by the collar and make him regret his words. But he forced himself to stay calm. Making a scene now would ruin everything — their plan, Eamon's position, Korran's hope.
He took a slow breath, lowering his eyes. "I'm really sorry," he said in a calm voice. "Maybe I was lost in my thoughts. Please forgive me, sir."
As he bowed slightly, his eyes caught an emblem embroidered in gold on the man's robe — a winged creature with a fierce gaze, a sword in its talons.
The Golden Griffon Guild.
Damien's stomach tightened. The strongest guild in Aldoria — perhaps in the entire Light Realm. Only elite wizards and warriors were invited to its ranks.
The man scoffed, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve. "Apologies won't make you less of a fool," he said, voice dripping with disdain. "Get lost before I lose my patience."
Damien held his ground for a heartbeat, eyes flicking up just once. "Of course," he murmured.
The man turned sharply, his cloak swaying with the motion, and strode away through the crowd, boots striking against the stone.
The man Damien barged into, was Roneth Sylvaran. He was the same man whom Eamon met in Iskareth who had taken the adventure trials with him. One of the few beginners to have received a Rank 3. A skilled fighter and, by all accounts, an insufferable one. But Damien didn't know who he was.
Damien exhaled slowly, watching Roneth disappear into the crowd. "What a pompous idiot," he muttered under his breath.
He pushed on, visiting taverns, eavesdropping on guards, and catching fragments of conversation. By noon, his hood was damp from drizzle, but he had what he needed.
When he returned to their hideout — an old hut near the edge of the woods — Eamon was waiting near the fireplace with Korran. The boy looked restless, his leg bouncing nervously.
"Hey," Eamon said as soon as Damien stepped in. "Were you able to find any important information?"
Damien removed his wet cloak and hung it on a chair. "Yeah," he said, taking a seat. "Yesterday there was a rumor spreading about a possible prison break — something about rescuing prisoners. That's why the guards were doubled yesterday."
Eamon leaned forward. "And today?"
"Back to normal," Damien said. "The usual security — around a hundred soldiers stationed in and around the prison. That's still heavy, but manageable if we move quietly."
Eamon nodded slowly. "That's good news. A hundred soldiers won't be easy to handle… but we can do it."
Damien crossed his arms. "Yeah. And we don't have much of a choice anyway. Tonight's our only chance to save Korran's brother and father. Tomorrow at noon, Gorochi plans to execute them publicly in the town square."
Korran's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "Tomorrow? Noon?"
Eamon gave a short nod. "Then tonight it is," he said firmly. "Around midnight, we strike. We'll move through the shadows — quick, silent, unseen." He looked at Damien. "And you should avoid using your vampire blood-magic as much as possible. If anyone gets a hint of a vampire's presence, this whole region will be crawling with hunters by dawn."
Damien's expression darkened. "Yeah. I know. I'll keep it under control." His voice was quieter now. "We need to handle this with absolute care. One mistake, and we lose everyone."
Eamon's gaze shifted to Korran, who sat silent by the fire. "There's just one problem," he said softly. "We can't take him with us."
Damien frowned. "I was thinking the same. But we can't leave him alone either."
"I was thinking of leaving him with Skarn," Eamon said. "He can keep him safe until we return."
Damien shook his head. "But Skarn's not strong enough, Eamon. If anything happens…"
"I know," Eamon interrupted, his tone steady. "But we have no other option. No guard ever comes to this side of the forest — it's too far from town. They'll be safer here than anywhere else. Once we rescue Felis and Orzen, we'll return immediately and leave the town before dawn."
Damien leaned back, staring at the flames. "It's risky," he admitted. "But you're right. We don't have a choice." He looked at Eamon, a faint smile crossing his face. "Let's just hope everything goes as planned."
Eamon smirked slightly. "It will. We've handled worse."
A moment of silence passed between them — a fragile calm before the storm that awaited.
Then Damien said, "Oh, and there's something else. I ran into an arrogant bastard in town earlier. Wore the emblem of the Golden Griffon Guild."
Eamon's eyes narrowed. "Golden Griffon?"
"Yeah," Damien said. "Same guild you rejected an offer from, if I remember correctly."
Eamon frowned slightly. "Who was he?"
"That I don't know," Damien replied.
Eamon leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. "Golden Griffon Guild, huh? They don't usually wander around small towns like this. Maybe they're here for Gorochi… or something else entirely."
Damien shrugged. "Whatever it is, I hope he's not anywhere near the prison tonight. The last thing we need is a guild mage in our way."
Eamon gave a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I don't think he will be there."
The area fell silent again, except for the soft crackle of firewood.
Outside, the wind picked up, brushing through the trees like whispers. The day was slipping away — and with it, their time.
Korran looked up at them both, his young face pale but determined. "Will you really bring them back?" he asked quietly.
Eamon looked at him and nodded. "I promised, didn't I?"
Korran nodded, clenching his fists. "Then I'll wait. I'll protect Skarn if anyone comes."
Damien smiled faintly. "You've got guts, kid."
Eamon rose to his feet, pulling his sword from the wall. The silver gleam reflected the firelight. "Rest for now," he said. "We leave at midnight."
The three men sat quietly for a while, each lost in thought — one thinking of his family, another of strategy, and the last of blood he must not spill.
Outside, thunder rolled over the mountains, and rain began to fall — soft at first, then harder, washing the dirt from the streets of Misticula.
It would be a dark night — perfect for shadows to move unseen.
The plan was now set.
At midnight, Eamon and Damien would rescue Orzen and Felis. The two men were ready.