As Elara stepped into the inn, she was struck by the warm, inviting atmosphere. The soft glow of flickering lanterns hung from the wooden beams overhead illuminated the room, casting a cozy ambiance throughout the space. Directly in front of her was the bar, a sturdy wooden counter that stretched the length of the room. Several stools were lined up in front of it, their worn leather seats testament to the many weary travelers who had rested there before.

  To her right, a staircase led up to the second floor, its steps well-trodden and smooth from years of use.

  On the left side of the room, tables and chairs were arranged in neat rows, their surfaces gleaming in the soft light. The tables were made of dark, polished wood. The chairs were cushioned with plush, wine red fabrics, inviting patrons to sit and stay awhile.

  Despite the late hour, the inn was empty. The tables and chairs stood vacant, as if waiting for the next group of travelers to arrive and fill the space with laughter and tales. The only sound was the crackling of the fire in the large stone hearth at the far end of the room, its flames dancing merrily and casting a warm glow over the empty tables.

  Her companions wasted no time settling into the inn. They made their way to a round table, choosing their seats. Esme followed behind, carefully placing Velma on a stool. Selly and Krill positioned themselves on either side of Velma, their presence a comforting buffer for their injured friend.

  Slynn, ever the cautious one, selected a seat near Selly, ensuring that he was out of Velma's direct line of sight.

  As the others settled in, Esme strode towards the bar. The warrior reached out and rang a bell that stood on the counter, its clear chime echoing through the empty room. It was a signal, a call for service.

  Elara hesitated for a moment, unsure of where to sit. She glanced around the room once more, taking in the empty tables and chairs that surrounded them. It was strange, she thought, to find an inn so vacant at this hour. But maybe not, considering its location.

  But there was no time to dwell on such thoughts.

  Her attention was drawn to the sound of a door creaking open behind the bar. She caught a glimpse of a kitchen through the narrow opening, but her focus quickly shifted to the man who emerged from within.

  He was a large, imposing figure, with broad shoulders and a wide frame that seemed to fill the doorway. But what truly captured her attention was the fact that he had not two, but four arms.

  With one pair of hands, he deftly polished a glass. Another set of hands reached for a bottle on the shelf behind him, plucking it from its place.

  But it wasn't just his extra limbs that caught her eye. His skin was a deep, calming blue, a shade that reminded her of the endless expanse of the sky on a clear day. And across that blue skin, subtle red triangle markings were scattered, adding to his already striking appearance. He must be what Flamebeard meant when he told her about demons, right? The extra limps would match that description.

  Esme approached the man, her stride confident, but her smile tinged with something that might have been nostalgia, or wariness. “Kurda, it’s been a while,” she greeted, her voice carrying a practiced warmth that hinted at a shared history.

  Kurda grunted, barely glancing up from his work as his four hands continued wiping mugs, counting coins, and sorting an assortment of items on the counter. “Why are you here, Esme?” he asked, his tone gruff, direct, and devoid of pleasantries.

  Kurda's attention shifted from Esme to their group. His eyes, sharp and assessing, lingered on each of them in turn before settling back on Esme. His next words cut through the air. “And where are your shadows?” he asked, his voice carrying a bitter edge. “Did you get them killed too?”

  The weight of his accusation hung in the room, thick and unyielding. Elara caught the slightest flinch in Esme’s expression, a brief tightening of her jaw. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a grin so practiced that it felt almost like a shield. But Elara, watching closely, could see the tension simmering beneath the surface.

  “We parted ways,” Esme replied, her words clipped, each one laced with restraint. “I’m taking a break from adventuring for a while.” Her tone was light enough, but it carried a sharpness that belied her anger.

  Kurda raised a dark eyebrow at that, his expression unreadable. He seemed to consider Esme's words for a moment, his hands still moving as he poured a drink and slid it across the bar to her.

  Elara couldn't help but wonder about the history between Esme and Kurda. The shadows he had mentioned must have been Ignatius and Tirn. But she knew better than to pry, especially when Esme seemed so on edge.

  Instead, she turned her attention back to her companions at the table. Selly and Krill were deep in conversation, their voices low and their heads bent close together behind Velma. Slynn sat a little apart from them now, his focus on looking at the interior of the inn.

  And then there was Velma. Elara's heart clenched at the sight of her friend, slumped over the table, her face pale and drawn. She looked so small and fragile, a far cry from the warrior Elara knew.

  Esme raised the glass to her lips, taking a long swig of the amber liquid. The warrior's expression remained impassive, her eyes fixed on a point somewhere beyond the bar. She seemed to have no interest in engaging with Kurda further, content to let the silence stretch between them.

  Sensing the tension in the air, Elara took matters into her own hands. She approached the bar, settling onto the stool beside Esme. Kurda's attention immediately shifted to her.

  "What do you want?" he asked, his tone gruff but not unkind.

  Elara cleared her throat, suddenly feeling nervous under the innkeeper's intense gaze. "We were hoping to stay here until dawn," she explained, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. "We need to cross the mountain pass, and we thought it would be safer to wait until morning."

  Kurda regarded her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a dismissive wave of one of his hands, he turned his attention back to the glasses he was polishing. "Fine," he grunted, his tone suggesting that he couldn't care less about their plans. "What do you want to drink?"

  Elara blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in topic. She glanced at the array of bottles lining the shelves behind the bar, their labels a mystery to her. "I... I'm not sure," she admitted, feeling a flush creep up her cheeks. "What would you recommend?"

  Kurda raised an eyebrow at that, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. He reached for a bottle. "Try this," he said, pouring a measure of clear liquid into a glass and sliding it across the bar to her. "It's a local specialty. Should warm you up after a long day on the road."

  Elara hesitated, then reached for the glass. She brought it to her nose and drew in the scent—crisp and biting, with an undertone of fermented berries and a trace of something floral, almost like crushed juniper. The sharpness caught in the back of her throat, clean and wild, like snowmelt over stone. Beside her, Esme watched with a smirk, her own glass cradled loosely in one hand.

  Elara sipped. The liquid slid over her tongue, cool and startling. A burst of tart fruit hit first—currants, maybe, or underripe plum—followed by a mellow sweetness that softened just before she swallowed.

  As she savored the drink, she couldn't help but smile. It was a pleasant surprise, a welcome change from the bland water she had been drinking on the road. She took another sip, letting the flavors linger on her tongue before swallowing.

  Beside her, Esme and Kurda watched expectantly, their eyes fixed on her face. Elara could feel their gazes, heavy with anticipation. She glanced at Esme, noting the hint of a smirk on the warrior's lips. It was as if she knew something Elara didn't, some secret about the drink that she was waiting for Elara to discover.

  Kurda seemed more interested in Elara's reaction than the drink itself. His eyes never left her face. It was as if he was gauging her response, trying to read her thoughts through her expressions.

  Elara set the glass down on the bar, meeting his gaze with a smile. "I like it," she said, her voice sincere. "What's in it?"

  Kurda's expression remained impassive, but Elara thought she saw a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. "It's a secret," he replied, his tone gruff but not unkind. "A recipe I created. We use local fruits and herbs to create a unique flavor that you won't find anywhere else."

  Elara took another sip of the mysterious drink, savoring the particular blend of flavors. Beside her, Esme grinned, leaning in to speak in a conspiratorial whisper. "Kurda's drinks are something special," she confided, her eyes glinting with mischief.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Kurda, however, seemed uninterested in their praise. He turned his attention back to Esme, his expression serious. "How many rooms do you need?" he asked, his tone businesslike.

  Esme swiveled on her stool to face the others at the table. Elara followed her gaze, noting how everyone's attention had shifted to the warrior. Selly spoke up first. "Krill and I will stay with Velma," she announced, her eyes flicking to her injured companion. "We'll take shifts sleeping and keeping an eye on her."

  Krill nodded in agreement, his expression solemn. Elara could see the concern etched into his features, the worry for Velma's well-being clear in his eyes.

  Esme considered their words for a moment before nodding her approval. "I will take part in that sleepover," she declared, her tone leaving no room for argument.

  Elara watched as Selly and Krill exchanged a glance, a silent communication passing between them. They seemed to come to an agreement, their expressions easing.

  Slynn, who had been listening quietly, leaned forward in his seat. "I'll take a separate room," he said, his voice low and smooth. "I don't want to impose on your arrangement."

  Esme nodded, turning back to Kurda. "Three rooms then," she confirmed, her tone businesslike. "One for Selly, Krill, Velma, and myself, one for Slynn and one for Alira."

  Kurda grunted in acknowledgment, his hands already reaching for a set of keys hanging on the wall behind him. He tossed them to Esme, who caught them deftly in one hand.

  Esme rose from her stool. She turned to face the table, her eyes sweeping over each of them. "Let's get settled in," she said, her voice carrying a note of authority. "We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

  Slynn was the first to rise from his seat.

  "Yes, mother," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He snatched a key from Esme's hand, before turning on his heel and heading towards the stairs.

  Elara watched him go, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Esme, for her part, seemed unfazed by Slynn's comment. She turned her attention to Selly, tossing another key in her direction. Selly caught it easily.

  Finally, Esme turned to Elara, holding out the last key. She reached for it, her fingers brushing against Esme's as she took the key from her hand. The metal was cool against her skin, the weight of it solid.

  Elara studied the key, turning it over in her hand. It looked like a normal iron key, its surface smooth and unmarred. Attached to it was a wooden pendant, a number etched on its surface. She assumed it must be the room number.

  Esme helped Krill and Selly guide Velma up the stairs, the warrior's arms supporting their companion. Their footsteps echoed in the empty inn. As they disappeared from view, Elara found herself alone with Kurda, the innkeeper's presence suddenly more pronounced in the quiet room.

  Kurda leaned back against the counter, his four arms crossing over his chest as he regarded Elara with a steady gaze. She shifted on her stool, unsure of what to say or do in the face of his stare. To fill the silence, she took another sip of the mysterious drink, letting the cool liquid slide down her throat.

  As she set the glass back down on the bar, she remembered something she should have done from the start. She focused her attention on Kurda, activating her Inspect skill. The system responded immediately, displaying information about the innkeeper in her mind's eye.

  [Artisan lvl ???]

  Elara blinked, surprised by the revelation. An artisan? What kind of artisan?

  Kurda seemed to sense her scrutiny, his eyes narrowing slightly as he met her gaze. "Something on your mind?" he asked, his voice gruff but not unkind.

  Elara hesitated, unsure of how to broach the subject. She didn't want to pry, but... "I was just wondering," she began, choosing her words carefully, "what kind of artisan you are."

  Kurda raised an eyebrow at that, a hint of surprise flickering across his features. He seemed to consider her question for a moment, his hands stilling on the bar. "I dabble in a bit of everything," he replied, his tone cryptic. "Brewing, crafting, cooking. Whatever needs doing around here."

  Elara nodded, disappointed she hadn't learned more. Questions raced through her mind about the artisan class. Would he be able to fight? He had to. After all, how else would he gain experience and level up? Unless... perhaps artisans progressed differently than through combat?

  She opened her mouth, ready to ask more about Kurda's artisan skills, but the innkeeper spoke first, his words cutting through the quiet of the room.

  "So, what's the deal with the woman with the tied hands?" he asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "You're not into kidnapping now, are you?"

  Elara fumbled for a response, her cheeks flushing at the accusation. "No, no, it's not like that," she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Velma, she's just... she's been a bit aggressive lately. We had to restrain her for her own safety, and ours."

  Kurda raised an eyebrow at that, his expression unreadable. For a moment, she feared he might not believe her, that he might think they were up to something sinister. But then, to her surprise, the innkeeper threw his head back and laughed, the sound deep and rich.

  "Relax, kid," he said, his tone amused. "I know Esme. She wouldn't get involved in anything like that."

  Elara felt relief wash over her at his words. She hadn't realized how tense she had been, how worried she was that Kurda might think poorly of them. But his laughter had broken the tension, had reassured her he understood.

  She watched as Kurda reached for a glass. He poured a measure of the same clear liquid he had given Elara, lifting the glass to his lips and taking a long swig.

  "Esme's always been a bit of a troublemaker," he said, his tone conversational. "But she's got a good heart. If she's helping this Velma, it's because she believes it's the right thing to do."

  Elara nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She had seen that side of Esme.

  "We're trying to get Velma to a healer," she explained, her voice steadier now. "She was injured in a fight. We're hoping someone in Heimshore can help her."

  Kurda nodded, his expression thoughtful as he listened to her explanation. "It's been a few weeks since I've heard news from Heimshore," he admitted, his tone even. "I can't tell you much about the situation there now."

  He paused for a moment, his hands stilling on the glass he held. "Last I've known, they had increased security at the gate and the number of guards," he said, his voice low. "But nothing substantial. As long as you're truly only looking for a healer, you should be fine."

  Kurda's gaze flicked to the stairs. "And with a healer from the Temple with you, you should be able to breeze through the checkpoints," he added, a hint of reassurance in his tone.

  Elara felt relief. She had been worried about what they might face in Heimshore, about whether they could find the help Velma needed. But Kurda's information, while not extensive, was still reassuring.

  She opened her mouth to thank him, but a yawn escaped her instead, the exhaustion of the day catching up with her. Kurda noticed a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes.

  "You should get some rest," he said, his tone gruff but not unkind. "You've got a long journey ahead of you tomorrow."

  Elara nodded, stifling another yawn. She slid off the stool, her legs feeling heavy as she stood. "Thank you," she said, her voice sincere. "For the drink and the information."

  Kurda waved off her thanks with one of his hands, already turning his attention back to the glasses on the bar. "Just doing my job," he grunted, his tone dismissive.

  Elara hesitated for a moment, watching as Kurda cleaned the already clean glasses with a rag. She wanted to say more, to ask him about the artisan class. But the exhaustion was weighing on her, and she knew she needed to rest.

  With a last nod to Kurda, she headed for the stairs, the key to her room clutched tightly in her hand.

  At the top of the stairs, her mind still processing the conversation with Kurda. As she stepped onto the landing, Esme emerged from one of the rooms, her expression troubled.

  Esme stopped in front of Elara, her eyes searching the younger woman's face. She seemed to struggle with her words, as if unsure of how to begin.

  "Elara," she began, her tone heavy. "I had a talk with the others. We think it would be best for you to stay here for now."

  Elara felt a jolt of surprise at Esme's words, her heart sinking. Stay here? But why? She opened her mouth to protest, but Esme held up a hand, cutting her off.

  "Listen," she said, her voice firm but not unkind. "With Velma awake and her situation worsening, we need to be quicker. And we are only as fast as the slowest person."

  Elara's mind raced, trying to make sense of Esme's words. How could Esme think she couldn't handle this?

  "But I can help," she argued, her voice rising with emotion. "I've been training. I've gotten stronger. I can help."

  Esme shook her head, her expression sympathetic but unyielding. "I know you've improved, Elara. But this is different. We need to move fast, and we can't afford any distractions or liabilities."

  Elara flinched at the word "liabilities", feeling as if Esme had slapped her. Is that what she was? A liability? After everything she had done, everything they had been through?

  Esme seemed to sense Elara's hurt, her expression softening. "I'm sorry, Elara. I don't mean it like that. It's just... we need to focus on getting Velma to a healer. And we can't do that if we're looking after you too."

  Elara felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. She couldn't believe this was happening, that Esme was leaving her behind. It felt like a betrayal.

  "You said you would help me," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You said you would help me, guide me. And now you're just... leaving me here?"

  Esme sighed, reaching out to place a hand on Elara's shoulder. "I'm not abandoning you, Elara. I promise, as soon as we reach Heimshore and get Velma the help she needs, I'll come back for you. It should only take a few days. A week at most."

  A week. The words echoed in her mind, hollow and meaningless. She had been left behind with nothing but empty words to cling to before. It was just like Flamebeard all over again.

  She couldn't believe this was happening, that she was being left behind. Desperation clawed at her throat, and she spoke before she could stop herself.

  "Wait," she cried, her voice cracking with emotion. "I have 20 unspent stat points. I could put them into vitality. That would help, wouldn't it?"

  Esme paused, her hand still on Elara's shoulder. She shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving her face.

  "It's not that simple, Elara," she said, her tone gentle but unyielding. "Stat points can only do so much. Your body needs training as well. It's not just about the numbers."

  Elara felt her heart sink further at Esme's words. She looked down, unable to meet the warrior's gaze any longer. She felt defeated, like all her efforts had been for nothing.

  Esme's grip on Elara's shoulder tightened, drawing the younger woman's attention back to her face. "I know this is hard," she said, her voice low and serious. "But it's for the best. For Velma."

  Elara nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. She knew Esme was right, but it didn't make it any easier to accept.

  Esme released Elara's shoulder, taking a step back. "I'll inform Kurda of the situation," she said, her tone businesslike once more. "He'll make sure you're taken care of while we're gone."

  With that, Esme turned and walked past Elara, her footsteps echoing on the wooden stairs as she descended to the main floor of the inn.

  Elara watched her go, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over her. She was alone again, just like she had been after the sky fortress. But this time, it felt different. This time, she had tasted what it was like to be part of something, to have people who paid attention to her. Once again, she was losing it.