Wilderness, Outskirt of Blueberry Town

It was clear that Aviel Amion wouldn't go to a mission without some insurance to cover the rear. The likeable candidates selected for the task were Tristram the weasel, the first animal who'd welcome him with open arms, and Yara the bear, the tattooed shaman-warrioress. Both accepted Amion's proposal, but not as ones who insisted on helping him in the long run. They had other ideas for that matter.

Every animal folk from Blueberry town had heard the name, the reputable and sometimes the infamous rat of the grinning blade. Spoken with high regard, the rat known as Mercurio had been influential in the region, pouring a vast amount of wealth into the town and gaining groups of loyal followers in his wake. Anyone that had come to aid the rat received a boon, paid handsomely for the trouble and effort. It was easy for Amion to suspect to the reason for Yara and Tristram's quick response. To their eyes, they struck a goldmine, and the rat was just that.

While most of the town of Blueberry adored him for his generous contribution and wealth, Amion smelled a rat when he saw one. In his time spent killing corrupt officials and crime lords and high ranking military officers, Amion saw Mercurio as no different to the rest of the black elements in the past. If he received a decree from the Meisters, he would have killed the rat in an instant, regarding whether Mercurio was good or evil. Luckily, he wasn't in the Order, wasn't following the decrees of the Meisters and cared little about the rat's business with the exception to threats and blackmail.

Amion was not fond of blackmail. Especially if it was from a rat, who had manners and charm and an incredible wit that Amion came to respect upon since his introduction. While their meeting was quaint and well-mannered, Amion should have left the rat to his fate with the blackguards on that fateful day.

It could have been easy for Amion to kill the rat back at the tavern, easy to kill anyone that stood in his way. He chose not to, wisely enough, for the reasons alone was enough to steady his hand in place. Mercurio was smart to place a contingency plan should his life be extinguished at Amion's hand. Rogue elements of assassins, saboteurs and blackguards alike would hunt Amion down to the extent and no end, and wherever he went, they would wait from the shadow to strike him down when given the opportunity. The result would be a nightmare for him.

Another reason that Amion chose to be compliant was a particular person or animal that he had a soft spot since his time spent on the tavern, the Lucky Foot. A courageous and energetic maned wolf that Amion fell madly in love with her.

There was no need for Amion to guess that the rat would use her as leverage somehow and someday she would be in danger if he chose to remain defiant. It was for her sake that Amion decided to accept the mission. What was even worse was that Amion learned not too long ago that Aveline and the rest of her barmaids owed Mercurio with their life. Their lives before Mercurio's intervention was rife with untold suffering, and if it hadn't been for Mercurio, they would have perished at an early age and that they would never know the meaning of a better life.

In slight admittance, Amion was grateful to Mercurio, if not shown in public. If Mercurio hadn't helped the town, then Amion would have never met Aveline and learned the many new things about the world with her. The time that Amion spent with Aveline was precious to him, genuine. He had gotten chance to knew Aveline better during the following week, and when he revealed his secret to her, she was downright ecstatic. She was the second animal that knew Amion's identity besides Mercurio, but Amion had to admit that his secret was no longer a secret when everyone from the tavern knew of his naked face.

As much as Amion was concerned that the Partishans, vile enemies of the Scarlet Order, would discover that the last living member of the Order had survived from the war, he didn't care as long he was with her.

Amion didn't want to lose Aveline, didn't want to miss her cheerful smile and her colourful personality. It was rare for Amion to be afraid like this and the idea of a long lasting relationship made him nervous. While he met several ladies during his time in the Order, none of them strike as fancy to his taste. Even the streetwalkers, who swayed and charmed countless of his brothers wherever they went, were despicable, and he tried his best to stay away from them as possible.

For now, Amion remained as he was and pressed on to his objective without a word. Like a hired hand, he directed his focus into ending it in a precise and quick result so he could return to Aveline's side. If he were to respond to a life of blood and death, he would accept it heartily. He was no shy to the carnage, the bloodshed and the foulness that reek from the dead. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. He was ready to be a killer, and he was prepared to die for her.

====----====

They would arrive along the old road. It trailed far remote into the corrupted countryside, leading to a dark and foreboding field that few would dare to venture.

The task that they were given was an investigation into the old ruins of Accornhall. A once venerable household that centred on trade and fairness before the Rot had taken the entire family into an early grave. All that remained of that imperialistic majesty were dust and cobwebs and the unknowable terror that lurked beneath the stone.

There had been wild rumours in Accornhall that proved little to be true for that matter, but it seemed trouble brew from the horizon in which Mercurio couldn't ignore any longer. Few witnesses saw a light from the ruin, glowing in an eerie radiance from the many shattered windows above. In revelation, the news caused quite a stir, and some of the townsfolk suspected to be the ghost of the deceased member of the family or the return of the Rot.

Mercurio was unconvinced by the tale. Hardly anyone would suspect that the light could be some random intruder with a torch in paw. The townsfolk didn't see Mercurio eye to eye, however, and open defiance wasn't good business for the rat. Surrendered to the paranoia masses of the town, Mercurio employed several hired thugs to root out the problem and to once for all end the hysteria that plagued the townsfolk. But, that was days ago since then, and he hadn't gotten a word from them after their journey.

Now turned silent mission and to save Mercurio from humiliation, the task had been laid down to Amion, Tristram and Yara to discover the disappearance of the hired thugs and eliminate any disturbance that walked in the old ruins.

Amion was a bit flattered that Mercurio placed so much confidence in him, but he would be a fool to think that the task was but a simple walk in the park. In his experience during the war, he knew that any park was treacherous, laid out like a trap for anyone foolish enough to spring it. He wasn't going to be caught in the crossfire and be a victim of mistakes. He was going to end it like any other job: fast and direct on point.

Upon their silent trip, Tristram, the weasel, approached Amion from the side, glancing at him in a frequent occasion. Amion was aware of this and tried to ignore him, but it seemed to prove fatal as the weasel became more and more curious after each minute.

"So...Amion..." Tristram began slowly, conducting a question. Amion suspected on what the weasel was about to ask "Do I hear this right? You not a wolf?"

Amion responded with a nod. "Does that bother you?" He asked.

Tristram pondered for a bit and smiled. "Nah, I knew from the beginning you weren't a wolf. Not of my business to dig in."

Amion stopped in his track to stare at Tristram. "How many knew that I wasn't a wolf?"

"Many. But no one knows what's behind that helmet of yours. A lot think you be some dog since we can't see the tail of yours. Or maybe you are indeed a wolf but got your tail cut off by Magna or something. Me and Yara knew better, of course."

"And who is this Magna that you speak of?"

Tristram was about to respond to that when Yara coughed out loud to interrupt them. "Please, do forgive him. Tristram had been shaken up lately with the rumours that have been going around with you and Mercurio last night."

"Oh don't pull a tail on me, Yara," Tristram interjected, pointing at the bear. "You are more curious about this than me. You've been staring at his helmet since we left."

It was the first time that Amion saw the bear flustered with embarrassment. Was his identity that important to them?

"I did not know that it was a big issue for you guys." Amion proclaimed, watching Yara shifted elsewhere in a desperate attempt to avoid further embarrassment.

"Well, with all the meagre jobs that we've taken and the dullness of the town," Tristram explained. "Your arrival was enough to talk about for weeks. All bets are now played to see who is behind that helmet of yours. My money is that you would be a dog."

"Oh for goodness sake." Amion facepalmed.

"Given to be said," The weasel said, his smile widened even more. "Care to let us take a peek?"

Amion groaned in silent, tortured that his experience had come to this. While he had the right to say no to that matter, he knew better than to let the weasel invade his personal life. The weasel had the knack for finding things out, and it wasn't long before he would discover his secret. Amion did wonder, however, if the weasel was a former spy of some sort, but he was doubtful to be true since the weasel was indeed a terrible liar in card games.

"It would save you a lot of trouble if you did so," Yara added to side with the weasel finally. She began to raise her voice a little. "Wouldn't hurt to see you without a helmet. Thinking about it would prove to be a distraction.

"Not you too, Yara," Amion said, stupefied. Out of all the animals in the tavern and the town, he didn't suspect the bear to surrender so easily. He smiled a little bit behind his helmet. "And I thought you were a lady of manners." The bear's face flushed in bright red as the weasel laughed at the sight.

Amion could feel the weasel's glare beaming down upon him, urging with insistence to the demand. He didn't want to do it, but he notices that Yara, too, joined in with the stare and shared the same feeling as Tristram. In the end, Amion gave in to the demand and surrendered.

"Fine, alright, you win," Amion said and began to unlatch the holdings of the helmet. The two animals leaned close to glimpse on what might probably be the sight of a lifetime. He felt the cold, nightly breeze upon his face and removed it upward to reveal to them finally on what was behind the helmet. As he placed the helmet under his armpit, he breathed in deeply.

"Surprise." He calmly said.

The reaction from the two was reasonable, and Amion could quickly tell that they were in complete shock at the sight. Eyes bulged wide open, jaws dropped, and the uneasy silence of response was the combination of the perfection of shock and awe.

Amion placed his helmet back on soon after. "Satisfied?"

"B-but," Tristram stuttered. "How...when...who are..."

"Let's make it simple, shall we? We have a job to do." Amion motioned and passed the two. He slightly bumped Yara as she fell quickly to the ground, stunned by the discovery.

"Yara? Yara, get hold of yourself!" Tristram leaned down to bring her back.

Amion didn't bother to look back at the two and moved on without hesitation. However, in truth, he slightly enjoyed the look on their faces when he removed his helmet. It was enough to for him to chuckle about it.

====----====

The old stones of Accornhall was once a majestic place that housed one of the great families of Armello. Their legacy had been built through fairness and generosity and prospered over the land for many years before their fall. All that was left of their inheritance was a grim reminder, an accursed place that damned everyone of a decent life as the wild greens had taken over the castle.

The three arrived at the outskirt to meet a collection of broken statues, faces smeared and damaged beyond recognition to describe the poise and elegance that once marvelled the scenery.

After several attempts to bring the bear back into reality and after several more minutes of recovery, a surge of questions began to burst out from their mouths like a fountain. Amion was no longer smiling, feeling like he was a criminal of some sort when he did nothing wrong, yet.

Amion explained some bits to their annoying questions but remained silent against the more private and personal matters such as where or when he was from and who was he before being sent to this world. It was then that Yara thought of something.

"So if you are a human after all this time then that means Mercurio knew you from the start." Yara deduced.

"More so and less so," Amion said, confirming of her deduction. "But know this that he only met me at a short period after I rescued him and that his visit yesterday was proof of that."

"You rescued him?" The two animals said out loud.

"Again, more so and less so. Left the rat alone once he was rescued. I did not know he was some of the great importance otherwise I would help him even further." Amion lied at that last part. If he had known that the rat was important, he would have left him to the bandits.

The three went through the front of the castle when the smell of wildflowers permeated the area Daffodils and marigolds was a pleasant sight to Amion, and he didn't mind the smell, but when he looked back at the two, he could tell they were not enjoying the scene.

"Guess that would explain why it was abandoned," Amion stated. He offered some fabrics for the two to cover their faces before moving onward.

The castle inside was in a state of mess. Much of the vegetation had taken most of the rooms, and discarded items of furniture and other sorts of different wares scattered around the place.

While the two headed off to cover more ground, Amion went towards to the dining room, thinking that Mercurio's men would be there. He went through the dark, narrow hallway with a torch in hand. He quickly stumbled upon a family portrait that depicts the owners of the castle. Much of their identity was lost and beyond recognition. Their faces slashed and torn by either a sharp object or by the natural elements of the weather. He stared at it for an extended period and felt something strange about the picture. He felt as if he should have seen it before. He shook his head from the distraction and pressed on towards the room.

The dining room fared no better than the rest of the place. The ceiling above collapsed below it, and much heavy debris of rock and stone and wood blocked much of the pathway for Amion to give a thorough search. Unable to go no further, he retraced his steps to return to Tristram and Yara.

Back at the narrow hallway, Amion glanced once more at the family portrait to then paused at something. He directed his torch for more light and saw that the painting had restored in its pristine condition. He could see the faces of the family. Their expression showed much joy and happiness. It didn't take long before the painting to deteriorate that their faces decayed and disfigured into hideous abominations.

Amion backed away from the portrait, stunned by the degradation. He rushed to the two in all-out pace and called their names aloud.

"Tristram! Yara!" He cried out. He didn't hear anyone else except his own. He drew his black blade from his sheath and rushed to the center of the castle.

Even with the red Hearten necklace around his neck, Amion was unable to sense their body heat, and they were nowhere to be found. Suddenly, he heard someone, a whisper, calling out to his name. Its origin came from upstairs as he ascended toward the staircase.

Amion was on the second floor and followed the unknown voice. He dropped his light and instead conjured a red ball of flame around his right hand, lighting brighter than the ordinary torch.

"Show yourself!" Amion demanded, but there was no response.

The unknown voice called out to him, inviting the disguised human further into the unknown. Amion sensed no body heat from far up ahead, but he wouldn't relent or fall back. He soldiered on to follow the voice.