Rei opened his eyes and immediately raised a hand to his head as a sharp surge of pain lanced through his skull.
"F-Fucking headache," he muttered, squinting before blinking fully awake. He looked around and realized he was lying on the floor.
'How the fuck did I end up on the floor?'
Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet and stretched, releasing a quiet yawn as several muscles popped from the strain of remaining still for so long. He cracked his neck with a gentle tilt and glanced around the room. Zay was still unconscious on the bed, and Naomi had fallen asleep on the second one.
Rei took a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly. He walked to the door, opened it, and slipped out, gently closing it behind him as he made his way down the stairs.
Upon reaching the first floor, he glanced around and saw several patrons already awake and drinking. His eyes settled on the bartender from earlier, standing behind the counter as if nothing unusual had happened. Rei approached him.
"Just give me anything you've got for headaches."
The bartender raised a brow. "There's nothing I serve that cures a headache, but I've got something that'll make you forget you had one. Will that do?"
"That's completely fine with me," Rei replied with a tired half-smile, lowering himself onto a nearby stool.
The bartender pulled out a glass and reached beneath the counter for three different bottles. One contained a red liquid, another was crystal clear, and the third was a dark, purplish tone. He poured all three into the glass in careful proportions before turning to grab a ripe mango. He squeezed it by hand until its juice dripped steadily into the mix.
He retrieved a small spoon made of glass and stirred the concoction gently. Once the liquid had fully blended, he slid the drink across the counter to Rei and gave a firm nod.
"Anything else you'd like? We also serve food if you're interested."
Rei sighed, rubbing his temple again. "What all do you have on the menu?"
Without saying a word, the bartender slid over a folded piece of paper. It was covered in handwritten food options, but none had prices beside them.
"How... much are these?"
The bartender gave a light chuckle. "What do you mean? Once you pay for a room, all food and drink are free. Where are you from that charges you for both a room and the meals?"
Rei's eyes widened in surprise. He chuckled and lifted his glass, taking a cautious sip before placing it back down slowly.
"I'll just take the boar stew."
"Coming right up. Give me ten minutes," the bartender said before heading through a white door and gently closing it behind him.
Rei took another sip of the drink and allowed his gaze to wander around the tavern. He studied it more carefully than he had the day before. Just then, the front door swung open with force as a group of seven people stumbled in, shouting over each other.
"The blizzard is coming! We have a few hours before it hits!" one of them yelled, with the others shouting similar warnings.
'A blizzard? Then what the hell were we in, back in that cursed village? Does that not count as a blizzard to these people? Did they even feel it?'
His thoughts raced. Time passed quickly, and the noise from the group died down as they took seats at one of the long tables nearby.
The bartender returned, setting a steaming bowl of boar stew in front of Rei. Thick chunks of meat were nestled among carrots, sweet corn, slivers of fish, and earthy spices. Beside it, he placed a smaller bowl filled with crisp green leaves that glowed faintly under the tavern light.
Rei raised an eyebrow. "What are those?"
"Those are hand-grown Winter Leaves. Believe me, they're the finest side you could have with boar stew. Just try them—you'll be hooked."
The bartender offered a small smile, then moved toward the group of seven to take their order. His tone shifted as he addressed them.
"First drink's on the house," he said with a wink. "You all look like you've come a long way."
Rei stared at the man's face, watching the exact same smile and hearing the exact same line he had used the day before on him, Naomi, and Zay.
He glanced down at the stew, then at his drink. Around him, the other patrons appeared completely normal. Calm. Laughing. As if none of them had noticed.
'Maybe I'm overreacting... but something in my gut doesn't feel right. Zay needs to wake up—soon. We need to leave, blizzard or not.'
Rei grabbed the wooden spoon resting in his stew and took a small bite. His eyes widened as the rich flavor flooded his tongue. Without thinking, he picked up one of the Winter Leaves and bit into it.
The taste was beyond description. It was light, cool, almost ethereal, like snow melting on his tongue, yet full of flavor.
He pulled the bowl closer without hesitation, scooped a spoonful of stew, placed a strip of Winter Leaf on top, and took a bite.
'Holy shit, that's good.'
Still, the unease persisted. He sipped his drink, then pushed the bowl and glass away. No matter how good it tasted, he couldn't ignore what his instincts were telling him.
'Something is wrong. What kind of tavern offers free food and drink just for buying a room?'
Unable to sit with the thought any longer, he rose quickly from his seat and moved toward the stairs before the bartender could notice. He disappeared up the steps without a word.
Rei reached the room they were staying in and knocked, realizing he had forgotten the key. After a few minutes of knocking every so often, the door slowly creaked open. Naomi peeked her head out, eyes narrowing slightly as she saw Rei, then opened the door the rest of the way.
Her long black hair was messy, draping over her shoulders in tangled waves. Even though she had slept for hours, her eyes looked drained, dark beneath the sockets, as if rest never quite reached her. She didn't look tired though—just annoyed, like her mood had curdled the moment she woke.
"I was having a dream of butterflies and you ruined it," Naomi said, her voice low and edged with disappointment.
Rei tilted his head, puzzled, before stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. "A dream of butterflies? How... did I ruin that?"
"You kept knocking and it disturbed them. They flew away, and then I woke up," she replied without pause. Her voice was slightly deeper than usual, less like she was speaking and more like she was stating a fact she found personally offensive.
Rei stayed confused, unsure why butterflies were important enough to be basically mourned. Still, he nodded along as she spoke, only to watch her suddenly stop and Rei shift his gaze toward Zay, clearly trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. It was clear that he didn't wish to stay on the conversation topic of butterflies.
"Did you see anything from him after I passed out last night?"
Silence settled over the room. Naomi walked away without answering, as if she hadn't spoken at all.
'W-what was so important about... butterflies? They're just insects,' Rei thought, still baffled. He made his way to Zay and slumped down onto the bed, checking for a pulse and found one rather quickly before he stood back up.
...
"What is it that you want me to do exactly?" a man dressed in all black asked as he took a slow sip of some murky alcohol inside a bar stained with dried and fresh blood. His black top hat tilted forward, casting a faint shadow over his eyes, which were sharp and distant.
The bar was nearly empty, save for the thick scent of smoke, blood, and something rotten. Flickering candles fought to keep the dim lighting alive, their flames barely moving. Dried streaks of blood decorated the wooden walls, and under the bar counter, a dark pool spread further across the floor.
The man next to him, wearing a pristine white coat now stained at the edges, slowly removed his gloves. As he slid them off, the light revealed a jagged claw mark etched deep into the back of his left hand. He flexed his fingers once, the mark stretching as if alive.
"We want you to do what you do best," he said, voice calm but sharp like a knife pressed to skin. "Can you do that?"
The man in black turned slightly in his chair, now facing the claw-marked man fully. His eyes dropped to the hand, lingering there for a moment, before he let out a low chuckle.
"False whatever-the-hell bastards, huh?"
The man in white 'Winter' pulled a cigar from the inside of his blood-spattered white coat. After whispering a quiet incantation, a spark flared to life at the tip of his finger. The flame danced unnaturally, almost sentient, as he lit the cigar and took a deep, long inhale.
Smoke curled from his mouth and drifted upward into the air, mixing with the faint haze already blanketing the room. As it rose, it passed over a sight neither of them acknowledged: the bartender's severed head resting on the counter between them, eyes wide in death, jaw slack. Blood trailed from his neck like a grotesque offering, dripping steadily onto the floor.
"There's a bounty on some kid's life. Name's Zay Yuso," 'Winter' said after another drag of the cigar.
'Winter's' voice was matter-of-fact, almost bored, like he was reading off a to-do list. "He's done enough to warrant being labeled a threat. We, the 'False Threads,' are willing to pay you, 'Reaper,' upwards of fifty thousand gold."
'Reaper' didn't react immediately. His gaze moved from the claw mark to the severed head on the counter, then down to the sticky pool of blood soaking into the floorboards. His gloved fingers curled slightly, stained faintly red, as he raised his glass again and took a slow sip.
"What should I call you?" he asked, voice smooth but with an edge—like someone used to getting answers.
"Just refer to me as 'Winter.' That's good enough for now, 'Reaper'," 'Winter' replied with a slow smile, thin trails of smoke escaping his lips.
He exhaled again, a thicker cloud this time, and it curled like a spirit in the air before fading into the dim lighting above. All the while, fresh drops of blood fell from the edge of the counter and splashed quietly on the floor.
"Are you willing to accept the bounty?"
'Reaper' tapped his glass lightly, expression unreadable. His voice came low, his words carefully chosen.
"I want details on what this 'some kid' is. Fifty thousand gold for a single life? That's not a deal I'd normally turn down, but with that much money on the table... there's a reason. You're not just scared are you? You're... extremely desperate to remove him from the playing board, aren't you?"
'Winter' laughed—a cold, controlled sound that echoed through the bar. With a flick of his hand, he summoned a large blackened chest from his Arbiter: Vault. It slammed onto the blood-slicked table with a heavy thud, knocking over 'Reaper's' drink. The glass shattered, spilling what remained of the alcohol and mixing with the blood across the wood.
'Winter' unlatched the chest and pushed it open slowly, revealing mounds of gleaming gold coins inside. The golden light reflected off the blood, giving the crimson a strange, cursed glow.
He glanced up and winked.
"One hundred thousand gold. No questions asked. Deal?"
'Reaper' stared into the chest for a long moment, the flickering candlelight dancing across his pale face. The glint of gold reflected in his eyes. His left hand rose slowly, crossing his body as he extended it toward 'Winter'.
Their hands met with a firm grip, blood smearing slightly between their fingers as they shook.
"You have a deal," 'Reaper' said. "Give me everything you know—his last known locations, his relatives, friends, anything you've got on this kid. I'll find him... and I'll kill him."