The terror of the darkness was overpowering – closing in on all sides, it writhed and loomed above Ren, swallowing everything in sight. The moon and stars were blotted out, the sky itself devoured and the very ground beneath his feet was gnawed away, shrinking and shrinking with each passing second.

The wood elf's heart was thumping so rapidly that soon, he couldn't hear the individual beats – all he heard was a constant drone that drilled into the sides of his brain, as if his skull was clamping down and crushing him from within like a tightening bone vice. His eyes and eardrums throbbed and swelled, and just as he fell to his knees and clutched his ears, the bone-pale floor vanished and the darkness swallowed him.

Whether he fell into the blackness or was suspended within it, he didn't know – all he felt was himself whirling about like a leaf in a gale, mouth locked in a scream of deafening silence. Hands beyond counting seemed to claw at him from all sides, his flesh growing so cold and stiff and wrought with agony that it seemed like he was turning to stone, his body cracking and breaking, each time sending a lance of fear and sheer torture through him to scrape across his bones.

And then came the voice. That terrible voice.

"You cannot escape me, Ren. No matter where you run, no matter how you hide...I will catch you."

Something touched his brow – an icy cold that stuck to him and seemed to spread across his forehead. Yelping, Ren lashed out, his right arm blindly striking into the unending shadow... that suddenly gave way to warm yellow light as a golden-haired figure darted away from him.

The wood elf's spine lurched, twisting and coiling like a kraken's tentacle, and as he bolted upright, something damp slid down his face from his forehead and landed in his lap.

Compared to what he had just experienced, the shock of this was nothing, and yet it still made Ren jump. But as he flicked his gaze down and saw that it was nothing but a flannel cloth, the panicking drone in his ears went silent and he started to look around.

He was in a warm and cozy-looking inn room, lit by a simple candelabra that rested on the bedside table to his left, the smell of the melted wax filling his nostrils. His bed was in the corner and against the wall, its wooden frame supporting a down mattress and a thick woollen quilt patterned in white and dark green squares. His satchel was slung over one of the bedknobs at his feet, his robes clean and folded on a plain wooden chair that rested in the centre of the room...

... and sat in another chair right by his bed was a stunning elven beauty with long blonde hair, her turquoise eyes wide for a split-second before she immediately rose from her seat, took the cloth in her hands and pressed it back to his forehead.

"Ren..." she said, her voice gentle as a rose petal but thick with worry. "Are you alright?"

The cool, damp surface, once so horrific, was now gentle and soothing against Ren's pale grey skin. Now he knew who had placed it upon him, it was no longer so terrifying. Panting, Ren flicked his gaze around again. "Wh... where are we?"

"Still in the Cockatrice," Arabella explained. "You were injured in the battle against the gnolls, so Sir Logan and Stalk asked me to watch over you and make sure you recovered." As she spoke, she removed the cloth and pressed a gentle hand to his brow, before moving it down to his chest, attempting to check his pulse without touching his neck.

As she did this, Ren looked down at himself, hands clutching the blankets and alarm spiking within him as Arabella spoke of being injured. However, as he looked down at his own torso, he could see no trace of any wound, or even any scars. He looked the same as he had always done, and as he moved his arms and shifted his legs, everything seemed to move normally and without any trace of pain.

"How was I wounded?" Ren asked, anxious and confused in equal measure. "Am I going to be alright?" His last memory of the fight was the pack lord lunging for him, claws scything through the air before pure pain cleaved through his midriff and the world before him was bathed in blood and darkness.

Arabella responded by moving her hand from his chest to his cheek, caressing his jaw as gently as a summer breeze whose touch swept away the terrible events of this day. "Don't fret – you're absolutely fine..." she told him, giving him a warm smile. "Sir Logan told me he healed you before bringing up in, and aside from your skin burning up a few moments ago, there's nothing wrong with you."

Ren wanted to tell Arabella she was wrong, that there was plenty wrong with him. But he didn't have the heart to – especially when said heart might not even be beating right now if it weren't for herself, Sir Logan and Stalk.

"Th-thank you, my lady," was all he managed to say.

Arabella beamed. "Think nothing of it, Ren," she replied courteously. "And please, just call me Arabella. We needn't use titles in a situation like this."

'Yes...' Ren thought grimly. 'A situation I got you into.' He scratched his arm as he felt the memory of the dream clawing at his skin. "Arabella, was... was the pack lord the only leader the gnolls had? Was there anything else?" he asked shyly.

Arabella flicked her gaze up slightly, as if looking back through her memories. "If there was one, I'm afraid I didn't see it. But Finnan circled the building after the fight stopped to check for other gnolls, and he told me didn't see anything else, let alone more of the pack."

Her words were like a balm of comfort on Ren's heart, both in what she said and the gentle voice in which she said them... but the wizard could still feel his chest trembling from within.

'It could still be out there...' he thought to himself. But just then, the sound of a knuckle tapping against wood made his head flick up and his eyes fix on the door.

"Lady Arabella? Ren?" A deep voice called from outside the closed door. "It's Logan. May I come in?"

~~~

Arabella's heart skipped a beat as she heard this and, after giving Ren another once over to make sure he was okay, rose from his bedside and immediately began sorting herself out, pulling her dress straight and flicking her hair behind her shoulders. She didn't have a mirror to hand, her bag being in the Cockatrice's luxury room, and she didn't feel it right to ask Ren how she looked at the moment.

'I suppose I'll have to just hope for the best...' she thought to herself, even as her pulse quickened in her chest.

She moved to stand with her back straight and her hands clasped together in front of her when some more words came from behind the door. It was not Logan who spoke, though, but a childlike voice that she instantly recognized.

"Not by the hair of your chinny chin chin!" it said, thick with mischievous glee.

It was Finnan.

Arabella felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth – as ever, her halfling companion had a habit of turning up at both the most appropriate times and the most inappropriate in equal measure.

"You may come in, Sir," she called to Logan. "And you too, Finnan..."

The door opened, and the two men stepped in – the paladin first with the druid following after. Sir Logan was now bereft of his armour, wearing naught but scuffed riding boots wrought in black leather that came up to the knee, dark grey breeches and a plain white shirt with short sleeves and the fastenings below his neck mostly undone.

Both were made of wool, which surprised Arabella – she knew was well as any that such common materials were rarely worn by those of noble birth.

However, those thoughts soon left her mind as her eyes ran over his wide shoulders, his deep, broad chest, his arms that were thick with muscle that pushed out against the fabric of his sleeves, making it shift and ripple...

Arabella felt her cheeks heat up, and the warmth didn't fade as she lifted her gaze to meet Logan's. She saw a faint sparkling of sweat beginning to form on his brow when she did this and quickly remembered that he and Stalk had just been outside.

"Have you and Stalk finished burying the dead?" she asked him, her voice quieter than she intended as she desperately prayed for him to not notice she was blushing.

The knight nodded his head and said "We have" before giving a second nod towards the window, indicating outdoors. From there as she leaned to peer around the window frame, Arabella could see gentle domes of earth laid out in rows along the edge of the forest that lay not far from the Cockatrice. The thick blanket of leaves that stretched over them protectively were rustling in the breeze and gently shining with a faint red light that burned from the embers at the heart of a massive bonfire not too far away – a great mountain of ash and charred branches that was slowly collapsing in on itself, the warm crimson glow flaring and dimming behind the beams of wood like a heart beating behind a ribcage.

"We took them a decent ways out from the inn and gave them their last rites as best we could..." Sir Logan explained. "As for the gnolls..." He didn't finish his sentence, but it was clear in his eyes that he knew Arabella had gotten the point.

The high elf had, and she nodded to him, whereupon Logan turned to look at Ren, giving a slight smile as he looked the wizard over. "Hey, Ren. Welcome back to the land of the living!" he said as he walked to the foot of the bed. "How are you holding up?"

During this time, Finnan also moved, walking to the side of Ren's bed and trying to scramble on top of the poor wizard, with the leafy garments he always wore rustling as he tried to pull himself up...

But Arabella immediately stepped forward, reached down and placed a hand in front of his chest, still taking care to move with grace and poise even as she stopped him. And when the halfling glared up at her with a grumpy expression, all it took was for her to arch an eyebrow and her little friend immediately stood down.

Travelling with Finnan for a few months had made Arabella good at stopping him whenever he tried to do something... eccentric. She loved the little guy dearly, but he did have a habit of being inappropriate at times, and it fell to her to help him know when he needed to stop.

Meanwhile, as people clustered closer around him and Finnan tried to get on the bed, Ren's face darkened a little in response and he pulled his blankets up over his bare torso. "I'm, um... I'm doing fine," he replied to Logan. "All thanks to you and Arabella."

Arabella smiled as he heard this and approached Ren's side before placing a hand upon his shoulder, though only touching him lightly. "That's sweet of you to say, Ren, but I'm just glad you've recovered, regardless of whose work it was..."

Ren twisted about and, for the first time since she'd met him, Arabella saw her fellow elf smile back at her. It was only a slight twitching of the corners of his mouth combined with a coy look in his eyes, but it was a smile nonetheless. However, when Arabella asked him "is there anything else I can get you?" the smile vanished and the wizard looked back and forth between herself and Sir Logan.

"Not at the moment..." was his response. "But there is one thing I want to know – what's the plan from here? Are we going to do anything about the gnolls if there's more of them?"

In that moment, Arabella remembered what Stalk had said about how more gnolls could be roaming the area, and the thought of that and what destruction they might cause sent a shudder right through her.

Logan replied to Ren's query with "Well, Ren, the rest of us are planning to travel northwards, into this kingdom called Milisevre that Elsa says she's a part of, and to inform the king Charles of what's happened here. My hope is that we can convince him to take action and make sure Elsa and any other folk around here remain safe," he explained. "You don't have to come with us, but..."

"I will! I'll go with you guys!"

Another first for Ren since she'd met him - Arabella saw the wood elf say something decisively. However, as she looked down at him with her hand still upon his shoulder, she saw his expression and actions as he did so. His eyes were fixed feverishly on Logan, he had raised his voice so he was almost shouting his response, and as he sat with the blankets over him while hugging his knees, Arabella swore than for a moment, she felt him trembling and rocking back and forth slightly for a moment.

Like he was desperate to go for some reason...

Remembering how Ren had woken with a start a moment ago, Arabella leant down, bringing her face closer to him and her fingers caressing his skin with a little more surety. "Ren..." she said, making her voice as gentle and soothing as she could. "... is something troubling you? Please forgive my noticing, but you woke with a start earlier, and before then you were twitching and mumbling while your brow burnt up..."

Ren flicked his head to her. "Mumbling?" he asked suddenly, his voice still a little feverish. "Did you hear anything I said? I want to know!" As he did this, he twisted around like a tree in a hurricane, his hand flying up to catch her one upon his shoulder. His fingers were cold as ice, trembling violently as they squeezed hers. "Tell me!"

Arabella gasped and moved her body back slightly, but didn't stagger or outright pull away. She could see and feel how terrified Ren was, and as he grabbed her and Logan moved forward in the corner of her eye, she lifted her other hand to hold Ren's comfortingly and began to gently shush him.

"I didn't hear anything, Ren..." she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And even if I had, it wouldn't have mattered to me – all I care about right now is making sure you're on the mend." Leaning down, she brushed her lips against his fingers in the lightest of kisses and said "But I can't do that unless you take care of yourself..."

Ren's eyes seemed to soften at her words and her gestures, and she saw the rising and falling of his chest diminish over the next few seconds. "Alright..." he managed to say, his grip releasing and his body starting to slump forward.

Worried that the wizard might fall out of bed, Arabella knelt down and tried to ease him back in, placing her hands on his chest and pushing. Even with Ren's light build, it was difficult, but then Sir Logan came forward, his strong, callused hand gently gripping Ren's right shoulder and easing him back until he was laid down.

"Take it easy, old boy..." the paladin said to him. "We're happy to have you with us, but we need you rested and recovered come the morning, okay?"

Ren looked at Logan, his eyes half-lidded with either exhaustion or sadness – Arabella couldn't quite tell. "Okay..." he whispered as his grey irises disappeared behind his eyelids. "I... I will."