Dark was the night. The cold ocean breeze flowed through tall trees, leaves and branches fluttering along. Deep within the forest, not too far from the trees, was a small encampment, a campfire in the middle, giving warmth while chasing away the darkness.
Crystal was near the fire, tongues of flame dancing through her eyes as she sat motionlessly, her arms hugging her knees. Another figure approached her, extending his wrinkled hands, offering the young woman a bowl of meat stew.
"Eat, you'll need it for recovery," the Medicus said.
Crystal left the old man hanging, unbothered, eyes constantly fixed on the flames. Seeing her, the Medicus sighed, taking a seat next to her and placing the bowl on the ground.
"I don't need your sermons, old man. I'm an Inquisitor. Following orders is what I do," Crystal coldly spoke first, guessing what the Medicus was about to say.
