Lariel absorbs the details quickly. The boy looks to be about her age, has a shaved head, broad, blood-shouldered shoulders, dark skin, and green eyes so bright they look like jewels. On his back is a quiver full of arrows, and in the boy's hands a bow.

He was probably trying to hunt down the wolves that run mercilessly after him, growling and slobbering, but he was not discreet and silent enough.

Before he can even try to face the beasts, Varic springs into action.

He is very fast. His long, slightly shapely legs speed towards the wolves, and just as he is about to collide with them, he leaps into the air, passing them both.

As the animals are moving at high speed, they can't brake in time. Duly positioned behind the wolves, Varic throws the two daggers straight into their flanks, causing the blades to bury themselves deep into their necks.

At the same time, the unknown half-elf takes the necessary distance and, in short, precise shots, hits the animals' heads, pinning them to the dark grass.

Lariel and Eric stand still in the same place, not daring to move at what they have just witnessed.

Gasping, the boy throws himself on the ground, trying to breathe. The mage goes over to him to assess the stranger's wound and condition.

Varic takes the two daggers from the necks of the beasts, which are obviously dead. He wipes the blood from the blade on the ground itself before putting them away.

"Very much... Thank you," the lad thanks them, sucking air into his lungs with difficulty. He is still holding his injured shoulder.

"What a big jam you've gotten yourself into, friend." Says the mage.

"A combo of inattention and bad luck," he replies. "I really appreciate the help."

Varic crouches down beside him, smiling debauchedly.

"That will only cost you three gold coins."

Lariel intervenes:

"Don't listen to him. He's strong, but he can be pretty silly."

The redhead pretends to be offended:

"Hey, wait a minute there, lass. It's not quite like that."

Everyone gasps with nervousness as they see the stranger's wound: a perfect circle of teeth marks. Ugly, precise punctures, pouring blood rapidly.

"I'll stop the bleeding," mutters the blond man. Then he closes his eyes, holding out one hand.

This time Lariel can pay more attention, see that it is indeed difficult for him to access the magical gifts of healing. His brow furrows and drops of sweat appear on his temples, but it is working. The circles partially close, stopping the half-elf's blood loss.

As soon as he is satisfied, Eric stops evoking his magic. He takes a deep breath and shakes a little, as if he is suddenly weak. Varic places one of his hands on his shoulder, offering silent support.

Slightly recovered, the boy sits up, looking at his shoulder and thanking Eric once again for his help. Then he says:

"My name is Edgar. I live in the village of Eldon, nearby."

"That's the village where I live. I mean lived," Lariel murmurs.

The young man looks at her.

"Yes. I think I've seen you once or twice."

The archer stands up, holstering his weapon and observing the surroundings as he says:

"Are you guys headed for Eldon? You're going in the wrong direction."

"Actually, we're headed somewhere else," Varic says. "But thanks for letting us know anyway."

The handsome man is somewhat surprised by the information.

"Forgive me, but the next town is quite far away.... It's about a five-hour walk away."

"That's where we're headed."

"Oh."

Then the half-elf sniffs, sniffing the smell of fresh blood, realizing it is not coming from the dead wolves just behind him. His emerald-colored eyes fix on Lariel's black shirt, specifically on the side of her belly.

"Are you hurt?"

"Yes, but I intend to resolve that soon. That's why we are going to Zana as soon as possible."

"Isn't it more prudent for us to go back to Eldon? Both you and I need medical attention."

Eric says:

"If we had the time, we would do that. But we need to take care of something urgent."

"I don't know what they're talking about, I'm just going to escort them to town because that was the deal," Varic comments.

Edgar takes a good look at the redhead before asking:

"Are you a mercenary? Are you being paid to protect them?"

"Unfortunately not," Lariel mutters. "If that were the case, as soon as the service was complete we could dismiss you.

Eric complements:

"He is my cousin. Well, Edgar, we wish you luck. Take care on the way back."

"Of course. Once again I thank you for your help."

Edgar goes over to the wolf corpses and removes the two arrows that bind their heads. As he cleans the arrows, Lariel sniffles once more, trying to detect something in the boy's full. It seems strangely familiar, though unlikely, since she didn't know him.

The trio began walking toward Zana. The mage was obviously weak, walking at a slow pace. Lariel put her hand on her abdomen, frowning and swallowing a groan of pain. She almost asked Eric for a new poultice, but she didn't want to make another stop in her journey. The only one who seemed in one piece was Varic.

"Wait a minute."

The three stopped. The half-elf was approaching them in quick strides, almost as whole as Eric's cousin after the little healing session.

"I offer to go with you."

Silently, they looked at each other, looking confused and hesitant. Edgar explains himself:

"You will be making a long and dangerous journey on the way. You are traveling in threes, and two seem seriously out of order. You guys helped me with that problem, and now I want to return the favor."

Eric seems to think seriously about the question. Lariel asks:

"Are you sure? You would have to go back to Eldon alone."

The young man shrugs.

"I have money here with me, I can fight, and I'm physically fine, apart from the little incident with the wolves. I can pay for a carriage to bring me back without a problem."

Varic tilts his head and seems to agree:

"You seem capable. Come with us."

Lariel also finds the idea plausible.

"Welcome and try not to hurt yourself too much."

Edgar laughs. Eric gives in:

"Seriously, really try not to hurt yourself. I'm on my last legs."

The now foursome begins to proceed on their journey, talking little and making almost no stops. The half-elf tries to disguise how intrigued she is by his peculiar smell, after all she doesn't want to be indiscreet.

He notices, however, and asks politely:

"Is there a problem?"

"No. Sorry," she replies, embarrassed.

And they don't touch the subject anymore.

When they are already at the physical limits of their own bodies, tired, sweaty, and completely exhausted, after climbing a small, steep wooded hill, the group breathes a sigh of relief as they see the landscape in front of them.

Houses, towers, turrets, cobblestone streets and, in the distance, a huge and busy port. The blue mantle of the sea surrounds the city like a turquoise barrier, and the smell of salt leaves a queasy taste on Lariel's dry lips.

Eric sighs deeply. The others imitate him, genuinely relieved.

At last they were in Zana.