Pencarian Legendaris

Chapter One

The body lay in perfect repose on the Victorian fainting couch, looking more like a sleeping beauty than a victim. Detective Sarah Chen had seen enough death in her ten years with the Metropolitan Police's Special Cases Unit to know that natural death never looked this peaceful. Something was very, very wrong.

        'No signs of struggle, no marks on the body, and yet...' She leaned closer, studying the victim's face. Charlotte Mills, aged 28, was found by her roommate this morning, apparently having passed away in her sleep. Her expression was serene, almost blissful, but her eyes - those were what caught Sarah's attention. Behind the closed lids, her eyes were moving rapidly, as if still deep in REM sleep.

        "You see it too, don't you?" The voice came from behind her, rich and cultured with a slight Irish lilt. "She's still dreaming."

        Sarah turned to find a tall man in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit standing in the doorway. He hadn't been there a moment ago, she was certain of it. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, and his eyes were an unusual shade of amber that seemed to shift color in the light.

        "This is a closed crime scene," she said firmly, her hand instinctively moving toward her weapon. "How did you get in here?"

        He smiled, but it didn't reach those strange eyes. "Dr. Marcus Thorne," he said, pulling out a card that somehow both looked official and seemed to shimmer slightly. "I'm a consulting specialist with the Department's new Oneiric Phenomena Division."

        "The what division?" Sarah frowned, taking the card. The moment her fingers touched it, she felt a slight electric tingle, and the letters seemed to rearrange themselves before her eyes.

        "Dreams, Detective Chen. We investigate crimes involving dreams." He moved into the room with fluid grace, his attention fixed on the victim. "And this is the third one this month."

        Sarah's mind raced. There had been two other deaths recently - both young women, both found peacefully dead in their sleep. She'd seen the reports but hadn't made the connection until now. "How do you know about those cases?"

        "Because I've been tracking the killer for quite some time." Thorne knelt beside the body, his eyes now definitely more gold than amber. "He's what we call a Dream Collector - someone who has learned to enter and steal dreams. But this one has developed a taste for more than just dreams. He's taking souls."

        Under normal circumstances, Sarah would have dismissed such talk as nonsense. But there was something about the scene, about the victim's still-moving eyes, about Thorne himself, that made the impossible seem suddenly plausible.

        "If you're tracking him," she said carefully, "why haven't you caught him?"

        Thorne's expression darkened. "Because he only appears in dreams. The physical world is my domain, but his... his is the realm of sleep. To catch him, we need someone who can walk between both worlds." He turned those unsettling eyes on her. "Someone like you."

        "Me?" Sarah almost laughed, but the sound died in her throat as memories she'd long suppressed began to surface. The dreams that felt too real, the nights she'd awakened to find objects moved in her room, the way she sometimes knew things she couldn't possibly know...

        "You've always known you were different, haven't you, Detective?" Thorne's voice was gentle now. "The dreams that come true, the hunches that turn out to be right, the way you can sometimes see how people died just by touching objects they owned..."

        Sarah took an involuntary step back. "How do you know about that?"

        "Because I've been looking for someone like you. A Natural - someone born with the ability to cross the threshold between waking and dreaming." He gestured to the victim. "Charlotte here won't be his last. There will be others, and their souls will remain trapped in an eternal dream unless we stop him."

        Just then, the victim's hand twitched, her fingers moving as if writing something. Sarah moved closer, watching as invisible words were traced in the air. Thorne pulled out what looked like an antique monocle and held it up. Through its lens, golden letters shimmered in the air where Charlotte's fingers moved.

        "Help me," Thorne read aloud. "He's coming for the others."

        Sarah felt a chill run down her spine. She looked at the victim's peaceful face, at those restlessly moving eyes, and made a decision that would change her life forever.

        "Tell me what I need to do."

        Thorne's smile was grim. "First, you need to learn to control your abilities. Then..." he held up the monocle, through which Sarah could now see strange symbols glowing all around the room, "you need to learn to hunt in dreams."

        Outside the Victorian townhouse, storm clouds gathered, and Sarah Chen, homicide detective and newly discovered dream walker, took her first step into a world where nightmares were real, and death was just another kind of sleep.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Three

They arrived at St. Bartholomew's Hospital just as the emergency lights began to flash. Sarah followed Thorne through corridors that seemed to blur at the edges of her vision, her new badge somehow clearing their path without ever being shown.

        "Room 307," Thorne said, his voice tight with urgency. "Young male, admitted for minor surgery, slipped into an unusual coma during recovery."

        The patient, David Parker, age 23, lay perfectly still on his hospital bed, his eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids. Just like Charlotte Mills. But this time, something was different - the air around him rippled like heat waves over hot asphalt.

        "He's still in the process of taking him," Thorne said, pulling out what looked like an antique pocket watch. "We can follow if we're quick. Are you ready for your first dream dive?"

        Sarah's heart pounded. "What do I need to do?"

        "Take my hand. Focus on the patient. Let your consciousness slip between the moments of reality." Thorne's eyes began to glow that strange amber color. "And whatever you see in there, remember - dream logic is real logic in that world."

        Sarah grasped Thorne's hand and looked at David Parker. The world tilted, twisted, and suddenly...

        They were standing in a hospital corridor that wasn't quite right. The walls breathed slowly, the floor was made of flowing water that somehow supported their weight, and the ceiling was a swirling mass of constellation maps.

        "His dreamscape," Thorne explained, his voice echoing strangely. "Every dreamer creates their own reality. Look."

        Down the impossible corridor, a figure in a doctor's coat was leading David Parker by the hand. But the 'doctor' was wrong - his shadow moved independently, reaching out with grasping tendrils towards other dreams that floated past like soap bubbles.

        "The Dream Collector," Sarah whispered.

        As if hearing his name, the figure turned. Sarah's breath caught. His face was a beautiful mask of shifting features, never settling on one form, but his eyes... his eyes were endless pits of swirling dreams.

        "Ah, the new dreamer," his voice was like silk over broken glass. "And my old friend Marcus. Still trying to police the dream worlds?"

        Thorne stepped forward, and Sarah noticed his appearance had changed in the dream. His suit was now made of living shadows, and wings of dark light stretched from his shoulders. "Let him go, Collector. You've taken enough souls."

        The Collector laughed, the sound causing the hospital walls to crack, leaking golden dream-light. "Taken? Oh, Marcus, you still don't understand. They give themselves to me. Show her, David."

        The young man turned, and Sarah saw his eyes were glassy with bliss. "It's beautiful here," he said dreamily. "All my pain is gone. All my fears. He takes them all away."

        "By taking everything you are," Sarah found herself saying. She took a step forward, instinctively reaching for her police badge. In the dream, it transformed into a shield of pure light. "David, this isn't real healing. It's theft."

        The Collector's face rippled with anger. "You dare interrupt my collection?" The corridor began to twist, reality bending around them. "Let me show you what happens to those who interfere with my work."

        Suddenly, the floor beneath Sarah liquefied completely. She started to sink, but instead of water, she was drowning in dreams - thousands of them, each containing a fragment of someone's stolen soul. She saw Charlotte Mills dancing endlessly in a ballroom of mirrors, saw other victims trapped in perfect moments that had become eternal prisons.

        "Sarah!" Thorne's voice cut through the chaos. "Remember - dream logic! Make your own rules!"

        Dream logic. Sarah closed her eyes, focusing on her years of police work, of protecting people, of solving puzzles. When she opened them, her badge-shield had transformed into a sword of pure thought.

        With a cry, she slashed through the dream-flood. Reality reasserted itself - or at least, this dream's version of reality. She stood on solid ground again, facing the Collector.

        "Impressive," he purred, but she sensed uncertainty in his voice. "You're stronger than the usual dreamers Marcus recruits. Perhaps we could make a deal..."

        "No deals," Sarah said firmly. She could feel her power growing, reshaping the dream around them. "David, look at what he really is. Look with your heart, not your fears."

        For a moment, David's eyes cleared. The Collector's beautiful mask slipped, revealing something ancient and hungry beneath. David screamed, pulling away from the creature's grasp.

        The Collector snarled, his form shifting into something monstrous. "If I can't have him willingly..." Shadows exploded from his body, reaching for David.

        What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. Thorne spread his dark wings, shielding David. Sarah's sword of thought became a net of light, trapping some of the shadows. But the Collector himself simply... stepped sideways, vanishing into a door that appeared in the air.

        "Sweet dreams, detectives," his voice lingered behind. "We'll meet again soon. After all, Sarah, your dreams are particularly... appetizing."

        The dreamscape began to dissolve. Sarah felt Thorne grab her arm, pulling her back through layers of reality. Then...

        They were standing in the hospital room again. David Parker was awake, gasping, but alive and whole. A nurse was rushing in, responding to his sudden revival.

        "We saved one," Thorne said quietly. "But he'll be angry now. And he'll come for you."

        Sarah touched her badge, still feeling echoes of its dream-power. "Good," she said grimly. "Because I have some questions for him about Charlotte Mills. And about what you really are, Marcus Thorne."

        Thorne's expression was unreadable. "All in time, Detective. For now, you need to rest. Tomorrow, your real training begins."

        As they left the hospital, Sarah could have sworn she saw her shadow move independently, reaching for dreams that floated just beyond the edge of sight. The world would never look quite the same again.

Chapter Four

Sarah's apartment looked different when she returned that night. The shadows seemed deeper, more alive, and ordinary objects cast reflections that didn't quite match reality. The dreamcatcher Thorne had given her pulsed softly in her pocket, responding to the changed way she now saw the world.

        She was exhausted but afraid to sleep. The Collector's words echoed in her mind: 'Your dreams are particularly appetizing.' Instead, she spread her case files across the coffee table - photographs of Charlotte Mills, the other victims, and now David Parker's medical records.

        A soft chime from her badge interrupted her concentration. The metal had grown warm, and when she touched it, words appeared in that strange shifting script: 'Archive. Now. Emergency.'

        The museum was different at night. Sarah's new badge led her through doors that hadn't existed during her first visit, down stairs that seemed to descend far deeper than the building's foundation should allow. She found Thorne in a circular room she hadn't seen before, surrounded by floating screens of light that showed various dreamscapes.

        "We have a problem," he said without preamble. "The Collector's attack pattern has changed. Look."

        The screens shifted, showing a map of the city overlaid with points of light. "Each light is a dreamer," Thorne explained. "The blue ones are normal dreams. The red..." He gestured, and several dots pulsed an angry crimson. "Those are nightmares being actively shaped by outside forces."

        "He's attacking multiple targets at once?"

        "No." Thorne's expression was grim. "He's leaving traps. Dream-snares. Anyone who falls asleep in these areas risks being pulled into a constructed nightmare. He's trying to overwhelm our ability to respond."

        Sarah studied the pattern of red dots. "They're forming a shape... a symbol?"

        "A summoning circle." A new voice joined them. Sarah turned to see an elderly woman emerging from what appeared to be a door made of starlight. Her eyes were milk-white, but she moved with absolute certainty.

        "Sarah, meet Dr. Eleanor Price, the Archive's keeper," Thorne said. "And yes, she's blind in the waking world, but in dreams..."

        "I see everything," Eleanor finished. Her unseeing eyes fixed on Sarah with uncomfortable accuracy. "Including what our friend the Collector is truly planning. He's not just taking souls anymore. He's building toward something larger."

        She gestured, and the room transformed around them. They were suddenly standing in what looked like a vast library, but the books were made of dreams, their pages flowing like liquid memory.

        "Every dream ever archived is stored here," Eleanor explained. "Including the oldest nightmares of humanity. The Collector isn't just a thief - he's trying to wake something that should stay sleeping. Something we locked away centuries ago."

        She pulled a book from the shelf, and its pages burst open, projecting a scene of ancient horror - a time when the boundary between dreams and reality was thinner, when nightmares could walk in daylight.

        "The Last Nightmare," Thorne said softly. "We thought it was safely contained, but if he completes that summoning circle..."

        A sudden tremor ran through the Archive. One of the red dots on the map had grown larger, pulsing violently.

        "He's starting," Eleanor's voice was urgent. "Sarah, you need to see something before you face this." She pressed her fingers to Sarah's forehead, and suddenly...

        She was in a memory. A younger Thorne stood with a woman who looked remarkably like Sarah herself, facing down a shadow that threatened to devour the world. The woman - another dream detective? - sacrificed herself to help seal away the nightmare.

        "Your mother," Eleanor's voice echoed in her mind. "She was one of us. Her sacrifice helped lock away the Last Nightmare, but the Collector has never stopped trying to free it. And now he's found you - her daughter, with her power."

        The vision ended abruptly as another tremor shook the Archive. More red dots were pulsing on the map.

        "Why didn't you tell me?" Sarah demanded, turning to Thorne.

        "Because I promised her I'd keep you away from this life," he replied, pain evident in his voice. "But now the Collector knows who you are, and we're running out of time."

        "The summoning circle will be complete at the next new moon," Eleanor added. "Three days from now. If the Last Nightmare wakes..."

        "Then we stop him before that happens," Sarah said firmly, though her mind was reeling from the revelations. "How do we break these dream-snares?"

        "It's dangerous," Thorne warned. "Each one is a trap designed specifically for dream walkers. If you're caught..."

        "Then you'll just have to watch my back," Sarah said. She touched her badge, feeling its power respond. "Where do we start?"

        Eleanor smiled, her blind eyes somehow twinkling. "First, you need to understand what you truly inherited from your mother. It's time you learned about the true history of the dream walkers - and why the Collector fears your bloodline above all others."

        As if in response to Eleanor's words, the books around them began to glow, their pages rustling with the weight of secrets about to be revealed. In the map above, the red dots pulsed like a countdown to catastrophe, and Sarah realized she had less than three days to master powers she never knew she had.

        The true game was about to begin.

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BAB SATU
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Eve menjentikkan layar statusnya membuka dan menutup, kotak-kotak biru yang mengerikan berkedip masuk dan keluar dari penglihatan dengan kecepatan yang sangat cepat.
"Evelia Greene, jangan berpikir saya tidak melihatmu! Lebih banyak lagi kedipan-kedipan itu dan kau akan membuat dirimu kejang. Ingat apa yang terjadi pada Tuan Potts."
Eve memutar matanya. "Semuanya membuat Tuan Potts kejang." Tetap saja, dia mengindahkan kata-kata ibunya, menghentikan kedipan tanpa berpikir saat antrian bergerak sedikit ke depan.
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Wanita itu mengomel saat dia memeriksa untuk memastikan mata Eve tidak melanjutkan kilau biru yang mencolok, tetapi sebaliknya tidak menghukumnya lebih lanjut.
Martha Greene tampak seperti bayangan putrinya. Dia memiliki tulang pipi menonjol yang sama, kulit pucat berbintik-bintik yang sama, dan rambut lurus sebahu yang sama yang oleh seorang penyair mungkin disebut 'kastanye' tetapi manusia yang masuk akal akan menyebutnya 'coklat'. Secara efektif, dia terlihat sama dengan setiap penduduk Nowherested lainnya.
Eve mengusap sehelai rambut cokelat di belakang telinganya saat keluarga di depan mereka dalam antrean mengambil langkah lain menuju tujuan bersama mereka. The Questing Stones menjulang.
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Eve tidak terlalu peduli dengan misteri seperti itu. Yang penting baginya, dan memang semua penduduk desa di komunitas pertanian yang terisolasi, adalah bahwa batu-batu ajaib itu menuju ke Nowherested tepat sekali setiap sembilan tahun, sebelas bulan, dua puluh dua hari, dan enam jam, kurang atau lebih dua puluh menit. Questing Stones tidak ada apa-apanya jika tidak tepat waktu.
Dia adalah seorang gadis berusia tujuh tahun ketika terakhir kali Stones berkunjung, terlalu muda untuk menerima kekuatan mereka. Beberapa orang mungkin mengira dia tidak beruntung dipaksa menunggu begitu lama sebelum menemukan pencarian hidupnya, tetapi Eve jarang membenci kenyataan itu. Sebagian besar dia mengasihani Wesley Rollund, cukup malang untuk mencapai usia sembilan belas tahun dan masih menyandang kelas Anak yang tidak berguna. Wes lebih dari siapa pun pantas merayakan hari ini.
Jika dia berdiri di atas jari-jari kakinya dan menjulurkan lehernya, Eve bisa melihat pel cokelat Wes sendiri menjulang tinggi di atas barisan lainnya. Meskipun secara teknis masih anak-anak, bocah itu sudah berdiri lebih tinggi dari pria mana pun di desa. Dia akan menjadi Prajurit yang menakutkan jika Stones memilih demikian.
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Kemungkinan yang mungkin terjadi, di sisi lain, jauh lebih terbatas. Lagipula, ini adalah Nowherested. Mereka tidak memiliki turnamen besar untuk dimenangkan atau binatang buas untuk dibunuh. Eve telah lama menyerah pada gagasan menjadi pahlawan legendaris yang menyelamatkan negeri dari ancaman apokaliptik. Selama dia mendapatkan pencarian yang lebih baik dari ibunya, dia akan bahagia.
Bukan berarti tujuan hidup Martha itu buruk. 'Merajut sweater ternyaman yang pernah ada' adalah quest yang bisa diterima, dan kelas Clothes Mender yang menyertainya praktis menjamin kehidupannya yang stabil, terutama setelah naik kelas menjadi Seamstress. Upaya gagal wanita itu bahkan meninggalkan Eve dengan koleksi pakaian yang sangat nyaman.
Dia tidak pernah mengakuinya, tetapi Eve menganggap pencarian ibunya membosankan. Hal yang sama bisa dikatakan tentang hampir setiap pencarian di Nowherested. Terkadang gadis itu mendapati dirinya berpikir bahwa bukan quest yang tidak menarik, tetapi desa itu sendiri.
Lgezbihq rdzaWrig dseOgalTandy!a, FEOvelCiaO .GUrBee(neb sfangastJ icngdiOn bepexrDgians. wSebóagianU bgesVara mgimépinyWa mVe!libat&kahn Fmennpgamubislw yk,eNlasX LPedudle_r IdaMn beDrCkaeli!lqing kkeYraKjaNanJ. BeBtNapaf bmeAnaFk)jhuWb_kanlnya DmDeYléihapt Dssendgirxi ChceYrrNyA Wzoo'dssO,c PRenuyeberadngOajnh BDesua$r Bd'i XIdlBviOaA, ataZu Mbach&kaÉna Py)r,inwde_l$ ZitHu sCeLndirgi,. DJiRa JtidalkM ÉmXeMngningiInzkza$ny Oomo&ngv kkogsoung cmenlóawBaFnW !mnons_tAerd.s vOrang l)ain Cbis^aQ memupQeHrHt)armuGhkaWnj Hny*awsa mePrekaO diL a'lham lliRarU;d .j.a_lqan raNyay vcukuQp baguks ^uQntzuqknya*._
Teori tentang mekanisme di balik penugasan pencarian bervariasi. Beberapa ahli mengklaim bahwa Stones membagikan misi secara acak, sementara yang lain menyatakan bahwa monumen tersebut memiliki rencana yang lebih besar.
Pemikiran umum di antara orang-orang berpendapat bahwa batu-batu misterius itu hanya memformalkan keinginan sejati seseorang, tetapi Eve sulit percaya bahwa merajut sweater adalah keinginan sejati siapa pun. Tetap saja, dia menyukai teori para petani, jika hanya karena itu memberinya harapan dia akan mendapatkan pencarian yang berharga.
Sebuah keributan di depan barisan memaksa Eve dari lamunannya.
"Berhenti bejrkccanndaó!r"x bp)erAi.nctDaChT nsZuawr'a *kkalsar. "xApa yjangs ksceyb&enaérnNyva Mkamqu dapatNknaSnv?"
Eve mengintip kepalanya untuk melihat Wes menatap tajam ke arah ayahnya yang gemuk.
"Saya tidak bercanda! Itu benar-benar bertuliskan 'Bunuh Naga Blightmaw'."
"Tidak di Nowherested sialan itu tidak," ludah pandai besi itu. "Kurasa itu memberimu kelas prajurit mulia seperti semua orang bodoh bunuh diri lainnya yang mengejar naga?"
WeVsx memauKcatN.F O"'Um.J..g tIidiak, Zs^enbernar^nFyaK."A HDiXa nmCenjgraÉnpg^kJavt lyengajnLnya. yabn^g bb$e&rfoto.t^,G mGegmpujtaHr tzeélapa'k taznganznLyaav ZkeN slzaLnkgmiYt. fS^ebuRamh bQoéla Bapti Wlemah )mBuUnBctuIlx hdBi htannÉg'annya, PcauhaPyaényma Jy&aÉng HberFkeldifpA-kLe!didpq tZakr Pterblsi&hatt di basw^a.h sinar maótiaJha.rir soreK. MéeYsTkWipunZ ZapiK iktuf .mYenpjiOlgat jaOrsi-qjari vpJriHaX Vit*ua,a jkQu!lJitFnyya étetFaUp Itzi.daxk ftertluAka.l ."FSaayaÉ sHe(oraTn!ga jInjisfi&att A,paió."n
Eve menganga. Martha menatap. Semua penduduk desa di sekitar mereka memandang dengan kagum.
Tuan Rollund tergagap. "Seorang penyihir berdarah? Dewa-dewa di bawah. Selanjutnya kau akan mengatakan padaku Sally kecil akan menjadi seorang berserker." Dia menyentakkan ibu jarinya ke arah gadis berusia sebelas tahun yang berada di barisan berikutnya untuk mendapatkan Questing Stones.

Butir keringat mengalir di alis Wes. "Ayolah, Da. Tidak bisakah kita membicarakan hal ini di bengkel?"
"Apa kau bercanda?" Seorang pria bertubuh tambun melangkah dari kerumunan penonton, celemek kokinya masih terikat di pinggangnya. "Kita harus merayakannya! Nowherested memiliki pahlawannya sendiri! Ayo, semuanya, ronde pertama untukku!"
Saat pertemuan itu pecah untuk mengikuti pria itu, tidak luput dari perhatian Eve bahwa pria yang menyerukan perayaan itu juga kebetulan memiliki kedai minuman lokal. Penduduk desa, sebagian besar, tidak peduli.
SHeXmefntarKaD sTeMbGaFgiahns mbeDs,ar DpDeXn_ontYonJ $bmergteHrnak (untulk ymQemuplZaBi Pp)erhaAya^afnd mtalam^ OlLebiDh aRwkal, WDesO sóeMnXdiri .tikdwak YmeTnMgÉikuOtiBny^a.& bEvfe ,mPeKm$bmecrxi&kNaXn LpCandangan zsi_mpati kyepÉadIa inXiQsqimaFtU b^aOrXu éitzu hsaatG Payahn!ybav ómbeXnXyeareyt.nya Nkóem$balMi ke_ bbengékeli uIntukC 'mem&bahXaqsa waCh!yuq héa!ri HiatuuI FdManY xaBpaU arBtikn^ya$ bnag&iA mCasa dxepUatnH. Dni.aZ mXeZngas^ihavnCi Rmerekau bDePrydKula).k
Entah Wes selamat atau tidak dari pencariannya, Tuan Rollund telah kehilangan anaknya karena semangat petualangan. Sementara itu, sang penyihir sekarang menemukan dirinya terdorong ke dalam bahaya, entah ia menyukainya atau tidak. The Questing Stones tidak akan ditolak.
Sementara itu, Eve santai saat kerumunan itu pergi. Lebih sedikit penonton berarti lebih sedikit perhatian saat dia menerima kelas dan pencariannya sendiri. Betapapun yakinnya dia bahwa hasilnya tidak akan menarik, hal terakhir yang dia inginkan adalah menjadi target baru pabrik gosip. Dengan keberuntungan apapun, Wes akan menempati mereka untuk masa yang akan datang.
Antrean itu terus berjalan maju dengan susah payah saat setiap keluarga berhenti untuk memberi selamat kepada Asisten Tukang Roti atau Buruh Tani mereka yang baru dicetak. "Mengapa mereka tidak bisa merayakannya setelah keluar dari jalan semua orang?"
"lBeIrfsaRbJarlPalh, nENvDelXiCay,é"É djpawab isbuXnyGaO.Q c"KMGeréeVkaO samaH geGmbidraAnyya &de'nganSmru.W"
Mungkin jika kau tidak menghabiskan waktu satu jam untuk mengkoordinasikan pakaianmu pagi ini, kita pasti sudah selesai sekarang. Eve menyimpan pikiran itu untuk dirinya sendiri; mengatakannya dengan keras hanya akan membuatnya bertengkar lagi. Seperti itu, kedatangan mereka yang terlambat telah membuat mereka berada di belakang antrian, dipaksa untuk menyaksikan penduduk desa demi penduduk desa mengetahui jalan sebenarnya yang akan mereka tempuh dalam hidup mereka. Eve marah.
Jam-jam terus berjalan seiring dengan semakin dekatnya wanita muda itu dengan takdirnya. Pada saat Evelia Green berdiri tanpa hambatan di depan lempengan granit yang tegak, matahari musim panas hampir mencapai akhir perjalanan hariannya. Langit melukis dirinya sendiri dalam simfoni jingga dan merah muda, awan-awan itu sendiri bersuka ria dalam keagungan warnanya.
Eve mengabaikan matahari terbenam. Secantik apa pun itu, perhatiannya tertuju ke tempat lain.
To(t.al pQuevst'inga cStonXesl adaa zenamX, diaturc MmalaRmY i(ni daXlRaNmm xlikngYkkarnan hypaCn'g thidpaÉk riata. xMfeXrgeók(aa tidak bers)inar' QdeYngxanf BsIigil NmiOswteArbius da(taFu m_enyaVnóyVikain péaQdRu*a!n sua'rrap CkeO l.angHiCtC.Y FMe(rGevkJa xandFajlNah kbDaFtuB-AbÉatuw. cBaDtu(-bVa(tuP UyaBnógu sangsatF bueGsar( sb(eYrdli(ri tÉegRakk mdal'aFmI s&aUtut kelzoLmpokn,s tapxi tetanp sóajza_ batXuL. jJiaqnVtuSngF Euvep Bberddeba$r.-debHa^rA SsadaYtD idKiVa melcaNngwkaShc ómenujfu pQubsat.
Inilah saatnya. Tujuh belas tahun tumbuh di desa Nowherested, tujuh belas tahun pekerjaan rumah tangga dan mencontoh sweater Martha dan lamunan yang tak terhitung jumlahnya, semuanya mengarah ke momen ini. Eve menahan napas.
Tanpa diduga, layar statusnya muncul bersama dengan kotak kedua dengan warna biru norak yang sama.
Pencarian Kehidupan ditugaskan: Pergilah ke kota sebelah dan ambil sepotong roti.
Apa$?v
Perutnya bergejolak, Eve mengalihkan pandangannya ke layar statusnya.
Evelia Greene
Gadis Pembawa Pesan Level 1
SOejriujs,' baKhkyan óbuékóanI X'fWaOnirtaX _PembawpaR &P$ebsanM'?N Hankya R'MeasPse*nxgNer_' aPkaón( lebdihH mbAaik! DiaZ meCn)gumzpFa,t, graasa frtuusAtasMignJya tyCaXnKgU memduRncak Kpad)a( WqguCerslt étMak VberngMuna itus mLeluCaKp kUeP dalaMm IkyelQas tyanXg! mzetnyReyrVtQaVinPyZaz. DiFa _m.eng(helmbusLkan *napYasV.X DUiÉ sxaFmppMinlg_ KnaCmya byFaangA meRreAnZdna$hkan,Q kxeMlaós Fit,u TtidGavk hsXemuanya Nburukt. ItIu vbuKkaJnC VPed!dleOrY, tdapBi pFeambawQa pteGsuazn Zju(gba SmeluaikukJafnl pFerjaxlanajn, kRaZnN?
Eve membuang pesan dan halaman status. Dia bisa membaca deskripsi kelas nanti; yang lain masih menunggu giliran mereka dengan Stones. Menelan kekecewaan, kebingungan, dan kegembiraannya, Gadis Pembawa Pesan berbalik untuk meninggalkan Questing Stones di belakang, melangkah menjauh dari keheningan dingin mereka dan memasuki sisa hidupnya.
* * *
Pada saat Hawa tiba di The Sower's Mug, perayaan sedang berlangsung dengan lancar. Para orang tua yang bangga bersulang untuk Whittlers dan Weed-pullers muda mereka dengan tankard penuh dan piring-piring penuh babi panggang dan sayuran musim panas. Seorang remaja menuangkan minuman untuk para pengunjung yang gaduh, sudah berlatih kelas Barkeep barunya.
T'ecnntu Rsla,jaj,I sebagiaBnÉ beTsatró pJendRuUdJulkU deswa SywaFngS sbagru salja nma_iAkA keXlLas m^aUsIih( teLrlGalxu m(uda untuukM Tijkut sertéa xdaaljaém ipestya poHra bGerKal(kRohSol, tfeMtSaDpji iVtu t!izdJak RmeGngphecnMtikang mPerek'a ucntuk( berapAestÉaz fdWenlganD wm)akWa_nanC Ilez,at dNazn LterRlalTul b^anyTakN maMkahnXan^ cmanyi!s.y
Pikiran Eve masih berkecamuk saat dia bergabung dengan ibunya di meja pojok, dengan cemas menunggu kesempatan untuk membaca lebih lanjut tentang kelas barunya atau mencoba dan mengumpulkan lebih banyak informasi tentang pencarian anehnya. Tidak mungkin sesederhana itu, bukan?
Martha punya ide lain. "Berhentilah khawatir," katanya, meraih dua gelas anggur. "Semua akan berjalan lancar pada akhirnya. Setidaknya kau tidak memiliki sesuatu yang mustahil." Dia memberi isyarat ke seberang kedai ke arah Wes dan penggemarnya yang baru diperolehnya. "Dia akan mati melawan naga atau menghabiskan hidupnya dengan menyedihkan berharap dia akan mencobanya."
Dari apa yang bisa dikatakan Eve, bagian 'menyedihkan' sudah dimulai. Terlepas dari kelas magis dan perhatian yang memikat, Wes duduk merosot di sudut, sambil menikmati cangkir bir kelimanya. Eve membayangkan sebagian dari suasana hatinya yang buruk dapat dikaitkan dengan fakta bahwa ayahnya tidak bergabung dengannya untuk perayaan tersebut.
DéiGaJ mPeTngCgaelke$ngkAan kXepalavnyaa., xkembQaplCi Xke KtloBpikm NyJaDnsgu óspedaJnLg !dkiPbmaWhZasD.G "SaXya mejmuizliHki Xmasalahq seDbaYlKiykunrya.W bSaAyVaF zbishab sabmpdais rkes OFsihd_stwortShD dana kwe(mbMaql&i .daslham 'sehar_i. LJal(uz ZbTatg_ayixmagnaQ?u"D
Martha mengangkat bahu. "Anda bisa selesai. Kebanyakan orang tidak mendapatkan itu. Kita mencoba dan mencoba dan sedekat apapun kita menyelesaikan misi kita, kita tidak pernah cukup sampai di sana." Dia meletakkan tangan yang menghibur di bahu Eve. "Mungkin ini adalah hal yang baik. Pergilah ke Fidsworth, ambil rotinya, dan lanjutkan hidupmu. Hanya karena mereka memberimu sebuah misi, bukan berarti Stones bisa menentukan hidupmu."
Eve menunjuk ke arah anak laki-laki yang sedang menuangkan minuman. "Mereka mendefinisikan hidupnya." Dia mengayunkan tangannya ke arah penduduk desa yang lain. "Dan miliknya. Dan miliknya. Dan miliknya. Dan untuk beberapa alasan terkutuk, mereka memutuskan hidupku tidak layak didefinisikan."

Martha menarik putrinya ke dalam pelukan. Sedetik berlalu saat mereka berpelukan. Dan satu detik lagi. Di sekeliling mereka bersulang, sorak-sorai dan tawa terdengar di udara saat kedua wanita itu duduk dalam keheningan.
Ketika akhirnya dia berbicara, suara Martha tidak lebih dari bisikan di telinga Eve. "Mereka tidak mendefinisikan hidup saya. Saya tidak akan pernah menyerah, tetapi pencarian saya berhenti menjadi hal terpenting sejak lama. Tujuh belas tahun yang lalu tepatnya."
Senyum tipis melintasi wajah Eve saat dia menarik diri dari pelukan itu. "Terima kasih, Ma. Saya hanya... apa artinya ini?
"KiatuC !sPela.lXu bilVang YkZa!u iingNin me.njeólNaDjah; munógkfiln LQ)uBestinyg LStzofnbeasS stnah)u).) Apha AgXugndaYnyaZ me&nbjelQa.j&ahd jiIkaé suesefoOrHa,ng ksubdaah émeÉmberaitjahumQux kaeM PmJawna hCatruCs (póerkgXi&? FMuingk)idn kxaBmTu tvixdBa'k mueLmbutuYhkIaÉnv pvenWcaréia.nW erp,ik$ 'ungtukkq m$eRlda(kiukaan sehsxuaXtu ykan'g kbe)rfhYazrgaÉ."
Eve membuka mulutnya untuk berbicara, tetapi akord pembuka dari "The Hero Sojourns" menenggelamkannya. Sebelum dia menyadarinya, seluruh kedai jatuh ke dalam hiruk-pikuk musik yang dilatih dengan baik dan bernyanyi bersama dalam keadaan mabuk. Musisi desa - mereka tidak memiliki Bard yang lengkap - telah tiba.
Eve membiarkan percakapan mereda di hadapan pesta pora yang semakin meriah. Dia menyesap anggurnya, bertekad untuk menikmati malam itu sebaik mungkin. Martha melakukan hal yang sama.
Secara keseluruhan, dibutuhkan tiga gelas alkohol berempah bagi Penjahit untuk berkomitmen penuh untuk menyumbangkan suaranya sendiri ke koleksi yang memenuhi kedai minuman yang bising itu.
SeimVenStarra i!tu,i gEve xmCeénzgLhabOiiskaInU jmualam itGu !mNelFagwaBny ,keain^gji*nGan VuSntukX mQemzeriksQak AhaVlyaCmaIn HstaDtuÉsnyaR. MPvutPuss aYsaP ykare'na ,diar mungkidn teklladh VbCelZajasrD seubanyaLkt ya_ng dia dbisav,y !dBia mge.mbutDuhkVarnx )mtalwaWmP igni.t DMia telaKh_ yme.nunBgghu( ztu(juch* bqelansl tKauhiun tuwn*tTuk mPeJmlpeklaJja_rij pGeAncaTripann$yUa, dajnQ mÉenymeb^aDlkaRn ataKup nsMebalPiók^nyóa(,X diaz btert)eMkWad MuXnCtuTk meArrayYakaanWnya.
Baru setelah Carpenter yang agak mabuk terjungkal dan muntah di atas sepatu bot kulitnya yang bagus, Eve menemukan alasan untuk memaafkan dirinya sendiri dari pesta meriah itu. Itu sudah cukup. Setelah tatapan memohon mendapat anggukan dari ibunya, Eve mendorong dirinya sendiri untuk berdiri dan menuju pintu keluar.
Dia berhasil kurang dari setengah jalan pulang sebelum rasa ingin tahu menang.
Eve menghentikan perjalanannya, bersandar pada dinding belakang rumah penyamak kulit saat dia membuka kembali catatan pencariannya. Entah karena minuman keras, bau busuk dari sepatu botnya yang berantakan, atau informasi yang ia temukan di dalamnya, perutnya bergejolak.
QuerstP:Z gPzergiWlahé uke WkotÉa. seZbAel!ah daxn aSmbIils sSep,o$tYoing r*otzi.
Deskripsi: Pergilah ke kota sebelah dan ambil sepotong roti.
Kesulitan: Legendaris
Tidak mau atau tidak mampu menahan reaksinya, Evelia Greene membiarkan pikirannya menggelembung dan memanifestasikan diri mereka ke dalam kata-kata.
"WApfa-avpa*acn ini?"

----------
BAB DUA
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MeDngap^a nSeRlaJlYuu !SPedricgalWa?m
EVE TERBENGKALAI hingga larut malam, matanya memerah oleh cahaya biru dari layar statusnya. Bahkan saat kabut anggur masih menyelimuti pikirannya, dia tahu dia butuh tidur. Dengan satu atau lain cara, dia akan menghadapi hari yang panjang besok.
Tetap saja dia menatap, membaca dan membaca ulang informasi dan statistik yang telah lama dia hafal.
Evelia Greene
MaKnusiPaV
Gadis Pembawa Pesan Level 1
Kesehatan: 99/100
Stamina: 43/150
Manaf:d 0W/W0^
Konstitusi: 10
Daya Tahan: 15
Kecerdasan: 11
KietaJnPgjk.asGan:. 1k0
Kekuatan: 8
Spirit: 0
Roh dan Mana berwarna abu-abu seperti biasa - sihir tetap berada di luar jangkauannya. Faktanya, satu-satunya perubahan yang dibawa kelas barunya ke statistik Eve adalah peningkatan Endurance dan Stamina yang sesuai. Untuk keseribu kalinya malam itu, dia membuka info kelas.
Gadis P&eumbcadwa OPveskalnq
Kelas Tier 1 Umum
Exp: 0/10
Pekerjaan awal yang sempurna untuk seorang dewasa muda tanpa pelatihan. Apa yang lebih mudah daripada menjalankan pesan bolak-balik?
+$4 MD.aya TaéhaknI
+1 Daya Tahan / Level
Kemampuan Pasif - Tergesa-gesa
Atasan Anda membutuhkan pesan itu untuk disampaikan secepatnya. Anda berlari sedikit lebih cepat.
KvelmmaumMpuan Akótyif A- gLyaxrKi
20 Stamina
Cara terbaik untuk bertahan dalam pertarungan adalah dengan menghindarinya. Gandakan kecepatan lari Anda selama 7,5 detik.
Kelas ini... kurang menjanjikan. Eve mengira memiliki dua kemampuan untuk melarikan diri dari pertempuran bisa berguna untuk menghindari bandit, tetapi monster sangat jarang terjadi di tanah manusia.
DiJ fsgi'sAi lai)nU, &jiNkTan qCuestp-nyéaB cbTenar-kbVena)r memi'likiA Mti!n(gÉka.t kUeKsucl$iFtann ULXesgeBnYdTarLirs, meml'adriPkanx dirFi se&pebr*t&ihnIy(a* dbUuukMaGn DpXilihIa,n iyanVg ób&eraguénra. ÉMWeAsXsnenHgesr_ MGXirGl tidtaTk Ém^embKeritnfyca jablBaQnx iuntuak bren.aHr-pbDeénFarW AmeOl*awxan_ éap!agpun NdanL dQencgwanX demikcia&n. &tBidNak aKda jPala!n 'unht&uk mReAndya)pzatk'anF pengalamana ubQelrhaOrmgva.Q ^KeTlaasnylam sanqgactV Ibugrubk,b dihaR qbVahPk!an RtidóagkL lbisga naiGkh nlZeCvel!K
Dia menepis pikiran itu. Dia tahu Martha telah mengembangkan kelasnya hanya dengan membuat kemajuan dalam pencariannya; mungkin Eve bisa melakukan hal yang sama. Gadis Pembawa Pesan mencoba untuk tidak memikirkan seperti apa kemajuan dalam 'mengambil sepotong roti'. Mungkin ada checkpoint untuk mencapai Fidsworth dan satu lagi untuk kembali dengan roti? Bagaimana jika hadiah questnya hanya roti itu sendiri?
Eve mengerang, berguling untuk membanting wajahnya ke bantal. Tidak ada yang bisa saya lakukan malam ini. Saya hanya perlu tidur.
Kalau saja semudah itu.
SqelyamRa bfeqrjam-Éj(am dniay b(olaIk-bNalYikg,s Kt(erTgwelli'nÉcirrg BmassnuwkA fdlawn Bke.lluaZr! MdaréiP tiOdSur UsAakat p)ikNi!r'a*nnyAa berpu&t^aGr-puAtagr. tKFetiHka akAhiBrnyaQ HtiduuAr, cdi)a bermWitm,pit maati-matiané mkeOlarikan fdGirwiQ zdari, mo(n^s,tóer aposkaklaip!tiyk pyaSng the$rl*alGu Hmir,ip Éde,ngGan rxoati raksasa pÉeknygWhuKn$iZ qpertaRmfa.D
* * *
Eve muncul dari toko ibunya keesokan paginya dengan lesu dan grogi. Tidak peduli bagaimana dia menggosoknya, tidur - atau kekurangannya - menolak untuk meninggalkan matanya. Perjalanannya akan sedikit lebih aman jika ia bisa sampai di rumah sebelum malam tiba. Sayangnya, strategi seperti itu mengharuskannya untuk berangkat lebih awal, jadi ia terus berjalan.
Ia memicingkan mata saat cahaya matahari terbit mengaburkan jalan menuju Fidsworth. Hanya keberuntungannya saja bahwa ia akan berjalan ke dalam cahaya yang menyilaukan baik dalam perjalanan pagi ke timur maupun perjalanan sore hari kembali ke barat. Tetap saja, dilengkapi dengan nol kecuali beberapa tembaga yang dapat digunakan untuk membeli roti, Evelia Greene mengambil langkah pertama dalam pencarian "Legendaris" nya.
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Wes tidak terlihat sehat. Dia menyeret kakinya di sepanjang jalan tanah yang kering, mendaftarkan diri ke samping sambil tangannya mengusap pelipisnya dan melindungi matanya dari terik matahari. Karena kasihan lebih dari keinginan untuk ditemani, Eve menunggu saat dia menyusul.
"Selamat pagi, Wes."
Terkejut, dia memiringkan tangannya untuk mengintip di bawahnya. "Oh, hei," dia mengerang. "Evelyn, bukan?"
"zEvveliSa,"k diNa( mÉe)nlgMoWreksSinyaJ,v u"NaltaRu XhaJnya EvYe."
"Benar. Eve."
"Berapa-um-berapa banyak yang kau minum tadi malam?"
Wes mengangkat bahu. "Terkutuk jika aku tahu. Sedikit saran: Jangan sampai mabuk di malam sebelum petualangan epikmu."
"K_autOaH-kfapta _baimjak, oh hpahZlxaWwan bfesÉaór.&"
"Ugh, jangan ingatkan aku. Da masih kesal tentang semuanya, sementara itu separuh desa memujaku. Sejujurnya, aku lebih senang untuk menjauh dari mereka daripada semua 'petualangan' ini."
Dia menunjuk ke bawah pada seperangkat baju zirah compang-camping yang dia kenakan. "Belum lagi semua ini. Bagaimana mungkin setiap warga Nowherested memiliki pusaka keluarga kuno yang harus kubawa bersamaku? Tuan Potts bahkan memberiku pedang berdarah. Saya seorang penyihir!
Eve memandangnya dari atas dan bawah. Pria itu tingginya lebih dari enam kaki dan bertubuh seperti lembu. Bahkan mengingat keadaan baju besinya yang berkarat, dia memotong sosok yang menakutkan. "Kau tidak terlihat seperti seorang penyihir."
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Eve mengulurkan tangan untuk mengambil pedang itu, tetapi saat tangannya melingkari gagang pedang itu jatuh ke tanah.
Anda tidak cukup kuat untuk menggunakan senjata ini.
Dia membungkuk untuk mengambilnya, berhasil mengangkat gagangnya tetapi membiarkan ujungnya bertumpu di tanah. "Saya hampir tidak bisa mengangkatnya."
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"Ide yang bagus. Kemungkinan besar benda itu tersihir sampai ke neraka. Dengan betapa berkaratnya benda itu, aku tidak akan terkejut jika benda itu meledak di wajahmu. Pesona yang tidak stabil itu berbahaya, kau tahu."
Wes memucat, membungkus genggaman erat di sekitar gagang senjata.
Eve mengubah topik pembicaraan. "Jadi kamu juga menuju ke timur?"
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