It’s a plain little village with thatched roofs and chimneys puffing light smoke. At one edge, a white building rises like a spire—the Etherbloom Chapel.

But that’s not our destination. At the town center, a bell tower stretches high. That’s where folks gather whenever something big happens. Well, there or the tavern.

Walking atop cobblestone streets, we glance around. It’s unusually quiet. Everyone must be at the plaza.

Our pace accelerates, excitement percolating into our legs. We pass little homes and shops with visible timberwork. Boxes rest under the windows, growing colorful flowers and herbs. We pass the bakery, the scent of fresh bread wafting out the open door.

I salivate, resisting the urge to grab a snack.

At last, we arrive.

A tiled plaza sprawls, leading up to the town hall and its stone bell tower. It casts a long shadow over the crowd, their voices jumbled while folks shout questions.

We press in, wading through the commotion.

“He sniffs treasure? Yer lyin’!”

“Is it safe to look her in the eye?”

“Is it true there are giants in Galanta? Have you ever seen one?!”

Villagers hurl queries while the stranger comes into view. He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever seen.

Tall and sturdy, he’s got a blocky face dusted with light stubble. Sleek black hair is pulled into a ponytail, contrasting his ivory skin—so pale it’s nearly translucent.

His masculine frame sports strange, foreign garb. Brown leather blends with copper armor adorned with practical rivets. Glass goggles rest on his forehead, the frames augmented with visible gears and energy crystals. A broadsword is strapped to his back, the hilt supporting odd mechanical knobs and buttons. A utility belt hugs his waist, potion bottles and a silver pocket watch dangling.

But his unusual attire is only the beginning. There’s something far stranger here.

A brown orb of fur rests at his feet. While villagers speak, it shudders, unfurling to expose a narrow, foxlike face with beady eyes.

It meets my gaze, blinking and cocking its head. Its arms stretch, revealing black, glassy claws that shine like obsidian. It yawns, teeth made of the same material.

“Yeeeee!” A bizarre screech pulls my gaze upward. I stagger back.

Drifting above the traveler, an eldritch beast stares down with a smile. The size of my head, it’s nothing more than a sphere—a green eye with leathery bat wings. Along its lower portion, a narrow mouth hangs open, a forked tongue licking spiky teeth.

It blinks and bounces while it flaps. Its smile widens while it pants. A truly strange thing…is it terrifying or adorable? I can’t tell…

“W-what is that?!” Words blurt from my mouth.

“Oh, you like her?” The stranger lifts an arm, allowing the monstrosity to perch on his sleeve with its tiny clawed feet. “Her name’s Ivy. Get it? Eye-vee!”

He flashes a wide grin.

I scowl.

“And this little guy is Crag.” He nudges the fluffy critter with his boot. It wiggles its stubby tail.

“And you?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Ivan. Ivan Duskflame. And this is my son, Viktor.”

He steps aside. I didn’t realize there’s someone else. Frozen like a statue, a young boy stands draped in a heavy green cloak. He shares his father’s dark hair, but he’s thin and fragile. His eyes are glazed and distant—raw, profound boredom. Like he’s watching paint dry. Does this happen in every village they visit?

“Please, everyone! Give the man some space!” Mayor Gaius shuffles to the front, his wispy white beard fluttering in the breeze. “I’m sure he’s very tired. Allow him to rest!”

“Ah, it’s fine, sir. I’m happy to meet the locals.” Ivan’s voice is deep and calm. “But…my son might be ready to retire for the day.”

“Yes, Father. This place is so…deprived.” The boy’s voice is soft and dreamy. “There’s no treasure in a place like this.”

My jaw drops.

“Hmpf. Viktor, you’ve got a long way to go. You’ll never be a treasure hunter with an attitude like that.” Ivan gives the crowd an embarrassed smile. “My apologies. His manners need work.”

“Sir, might I show you to your room? It’s above the tavern.” A village boy steps forward. Brown hair slicked back, he’s got a refined aura that contrasts his age. It’s Jasper—son of the tavernkeep.

“Yes, yes. I suppose it’s time. A pleasure meeting you all.” Ivan lifts a hand and waves. “We’ll be here for a few days, gathering supplies and preparing to journey into the southern deserts. Your town is a welcome sanctuary—the perfect place to recharge.”

The crowd disperses, excited voices muttering about the new arrival.

“He must be traveling to El’sor,” Dahlia whispers. “Maybe I could tag along…?”

“My dear boy, what is this?” Ivan stops at the plaza’s center while Jasper leads him away.

He gazes up at columns of crumbling stone—the village core. Ancient pillars encircle four pedestals and a swirling symbol drawn on the ground. Faint, wispy beams rise around the pedestals, billowing like tendrils of smoke. They glitter and dance, refracting the sun’s light.

It’s a place sacred to all in the valley.

“It’s called ‘the wellspring’, sir. It’s the valley’s heart—a place where its icons once stood.” Jasper lowers his eyes in reverence.

“Icons?” Ivan perks up, flashing a glance at Viktor. “You mean…artifacts?”

“That’s right. It’s a story told by the elders. When the first settlers of Verda arrived, four icons stood around the wellspring. Each represented a different element—fire, earth, water, and air. Their powers enriched the valley, allowing our village to grow and flourish…but over time, each icon vanished. Nobody knows where they came from or where they went. They’re just…gone. And so are their blessings.”

“Lost power…” Viktor mutters.

“Treasure beyond belief.” Ivan strokes his chin.

“Yeeeee!” Ivy lets out a shrill screech, perching atop a pillar.

“Rooooorg.” Crag flops onto his side, eyes closing for a nap.

I linger while Dhalia, Brom, and Clara depart. I vanish behind a pillar, eavesdropping.

“Now tell me, boy, are there clues? Any leads on where the artifacts vanished to?” Ivan asks.

“No, sir. Nothing. But if you could find them, you’d be a hero. A legend.”

“Your little town is in luck. Ivan Duskflame leaves no stone unturned! No chest filled! No lock unpicked!” He eyes the glowing pillars while a smile curls on his lips. “Come now, take me to my chambers.”