Meyra flew over, stopping in front of the butchery. When she knocked, the door creaked open. It was clean and sparkling, like it was never used. Her eyes began to tear up and she sneezed, opening her eyes to a decrepit room covered in dust. Due to Rodin's extensive hunting industry, it was peculiar to see a butcher in this condition.

Meyra walked out, rubbing her eyes, looking at all the buildings in disrepair. No one answered the door, as if the village was lifeless. The furthest building from the forest had a hatch on the floor in the center of the room. It was odd, due to building costs in rural areas, most places were one story. 

Meyra opened the hatch, grabbing an oil lamp and lighting it. She climbed down, her wings getting covered in cobwebs and dust. As she moved the lamp around, she saw cages surrounding her, all full of people. Meyra placed the lamp down, fluttering her wings to remove the buildup. 

Their hands and feet were chained together, with their necks chained to the wall. Their bodies were heavily bruised and scarred, likely here for multiple weeks. Meyra gagged at the smell, with no ventilation the smell of excrement filled the small room. A few people laid in the back corner, unmoving, and creatures swarming their corpses. 

Meyra walked up to an empty cage, holding her breath as she looked around. Blood and excrement had dried, staining the floor and walls. The chains remained on the wall, covered in so much blood it was impossible to tell the original color. 

“Please leave before they come,” a man coughed out, bending over to recover his breathing. 

Meyra walked up to him, pulling out water and a small portion of food. He turned his head away and held up a hand. The man pointed to the pot in the corner of the room. 

“They check us and our,” he sighed, “movements in the pot to ensure we aren't receiving more than they give us.” Meyra grit her teeth as she put them away. 

“Can I do anything to alleviate your discomfort?” She asked, squatting down to his height. 

He shook his head, “They wound us before they leave. They heal and feed us when we fish. It culled the weak, leaving us.” The man coughed, blood trickling down his face. 

He went to lay on his side, the wounds on his neck reopening as he did so. Blood trickled out of his mouth and down his neck. Meyra went around the side to heal him, stopping as he weakly held up a hand. When his hand fell and his breathing shallowed, Meyra healed him internally. 

The blood stopped trickling, and his neck wound scabbed over. The man’s breathing deepened as he remained asleep. 

“Thank you for caring,” a child spoke from the cage next to him, “Please see the woman in the corner.” 

The child pointed to a woman slumped over in a cage. The pot was moved to the side, showing four small drawings of faces drawn in blood. Meyra sketched the drawings to the best of her ability, making note of special features. The woman woke up, shrieking when she saw her. 

Meyra applied some healing magic, relieving her pain and the woman quickly quieted down. She was unsure if it was from her healing, or all the captives shushing the woman. The woman caught her breath and slumped against the wall. 

"Thank you, I'm sorry, we're all messed up here." The woman gave a small bloodied smile. "Please help us,” she whispered. 

Meyra nodded and stood up. She straightened her back and wings, closing her eyes. Warmth came over her as she began to cast healing magic throughout the room. Only enough to lessen their internal injuries to a more reasonable state and to remove their pain. 

“Thank you,” a whispered chorus rang throughout the room. 

Shortly after Meyra finished checking on everyone individually, voices were heard above. She frantically looked around, nowhere to hide. Meyra ducked behind a desk in a different corner, seeing sunlight poking through. She quietly opened the hatch, flying herself up through it. 

Meyra fell outside, quickly standing up to face the hatch. She closed it, seeing a gap in the doors. Meyra crouched beside it, hearing footsteps by her.