The hotel and eatery Liz chose was nothing fancy, but after prison food or the lack of it the bread tasted like heaven and the stew like something worth living for.
They sat by a window overlooking the marketplace, watching people go about their lives like the world wasn’t full of betrayal and monsters.
"You look better already," Liz said, pushing a plate of roasted meat toward him. "Color’s coming back."
"Prison’s not great for the complexion." Marcus took a bite, savoring the taste. Real food. Real freedom. Small things you didn’t appreciate until they were gone.
They talked about nothing important for a while. The weather. The guild. How business had been slow lately because of increased beast activity near the eastern roads.
Then Marcus set down his fork. "I saw someone in prison. An old man."
Liz looked up, curious.
"He was from a village near Ashveil," Marcus continued. "He told me things. Strange things about what happened there."
Liz’s hands stilled on her cup. Her eyes went distant, the way they always did when Ashveil came up. "What kind of things?"
"The kind that don’t add up," Marcus said carefully. "The kind that make me think there’s more to your hometown than what you’ve told me."
Liz was quiet for a long moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I’ve always known something wasn’t right about what happened. I just... never had the courage to go back and find out."
"Maybe it’s time," Marcus said.
Liz looked at him, her eyes shining with something between grief and hope. Then she nodded. "Maybe it is."
Marcus leaned back in his chair. "I’m starting training tomorrow. Getting stronger. Whatever’s waiting in Ashveil, I want to be ready for it."
Liz reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Marcus."
He squeezed back. "Don’t thank me yet."
*****
The guild hall buzzed with its usual morning energy. Adventurers crowded around the quest board, arguing over who saw the lucrative contracts first. The smell of sweat, leather, and ambition filled the air.
Marcus and Liz pushed through the crowd toward the reception desk where Corvin usually sat, ready with his dry humor and helpful advice.
The chair was empty.
"That’s odd," Liz murmured, glancing around. "Corvin’s always here this early."
A young woman Marcus didn’t recognize sat in Corvin’s place. She had short brown hair and the kind of nervous energy that came from being new. When she saw them approaching, she straightened up with an overly bright smile.
"Good morning! I’m Sarah. How can I help you today?"
"Where’s Corvin?" Marcus asked, skipping the pleasantries.
Sarahs’s smile flickered. "Oh, he’s... not in today. But I can help you with any quest registrations or—"
Marcus’s eyes had already moved past her to the wall behind the desk. Among the usual guild notices and safety warnings, a new poster stood out. Fresh ink. Sharp lines.
[WANTED]
The word sat above a sketch that made Marcus’s blood run cold.
Corvin’s face stared back at him from the parchment. Not the friendly guild receptionist face. A different version. Harder. Dangerous.
[WANTED]
[NAME: CORVIN HARTWOOD][REWARD: 5000 GOLD PIECES][CRIMES: TREASON, CONSPIRACY, MURDER][LAST SEEN: GRINDALE CITY]
Marcus stepped closer, Liz right behind him. Her sharp intake of breath told him she’d seen it too.
"When was this posted?" Marcus’s voice came out flat.
Sarah followed his gaze and her cheerful demeanor crumbled. "Yesterday afternoon. The main staff is outside dealing with it. I’m sorry, I thought you knew—"
Marcus was already moving toward the door. Liz hurried to keep pace.
Outside, three men in official-looking uniforms stood near the guild entrance. City guards, from the look of their armor. One of them was nailing another copy of the wanted poster to a public board.
The tallest guard noticed Marcus and Liz approaching. He had a scar running down his left cheek and the weathered look of someone who’d seen combat. "You two looking for Corvin?"
"We’re friends of his," Liz said before Marcus could answer. "What’s this about?"
The scarred guard exchanged glances with his companions. "Someone came by yesterday asking about a Marcus. We told him Marcus was in prison at the time."
Marcus felt his muscles tense. "Who was asking?"
"Didn’t give a name. Just said when Marcus is released, he should meet him in Ashveil." The guard looked between them. "Then he left this." He gestured to the wanted poster. "Said Corvin has information that certain people would kill to keep hidden."
"Ashveil," Marcus repeated, the word tasting like old blood in his mouth.
The guard nodded. "That’s what he said. Ashveil. Seemed pretty insistent about it too."
Marcus turned to Liz. Her face had gone pale, but her eyes were sharp. Everything was connecting, pieces of a puzzle they’d been gathering without realizing it.
The old man in prison talking about Liz’s village. Corvin’s sudden disappearance. A wanted poster that appeared overnight. A mysterious messenger pointing them toward Ashveil like a trail of breadcrumbs leading into the dark.
"Everything’s already connecting," Marcus said quietly. "I think I know where we should head next."
Liz looked up at him, waiting.
"Might as well uncover some secrets about your hometown," Marcus continued. "That’ll for sure give you closure."
For a moment, Liz just stood there, processing. Then she stepped forward and hugged him tight enough that he almost stumbled back. "Didn’t know you were sweet," she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
Marcus awkwardly patted her back. "I’m not. I just want answers."
"Liar." she said while smiling as she pulled away, even if her eyes were still wet.
The scarred guard cleared his throat. "You two planning to head to Ashveil, then?"
"What’s with the question?," Marcus said.
"Word of advice." The guard’s expression turned serious. "Ashveil’s not what it used to be. Things have gotten strange there over the past few year don’t know if their inhabitants in that place anymore.. Weird sightings in the woods. The kind of place i won’t advice anyone for tourism."
"Sounds more like a challenge ," Marcus muttered dryly.