CHAPTER 18. KUZAN'S QUEST.

The trio prepared to depart for their forever adventure.

"Do you three even know where to start?" Grimm asked.

"Oh no, we've already started," Gwen replied almost instantly. "It all began with Aeloria's mist."

"Zephyr, Damon!" she called.

Damon sat on the roof, soaking in the morning sun.

"It’s time."

Just as the trio readied themselves to leave, a knock echoed at the door.

From afar, Damon lazily raised his hand. The doorknob twisted and clicked open with a soft creak.

An old woman stepped in slowly—frail and hunched, barely able to stand.

"I heard you children were heading off on a journey," she rasped, holding out an apple pie. "Take this. It'll help."

Gwen took it gently.

"Why, thank you."

Damon and Zephyr, however, exchanged glances.

"Did… did you tell anyone we were leaving?" Zephyr asked.

"Wasn’t me," Damon murmured, scanning the house. "Where’s Grimm?"

But he was nowhere to be found.

"Who's that?" Zephyr whispered.

"No idea." Damon shrugged.

"Guys, this apple pie is really tasty," Gwen said, already munching away.

"How are you eating it already?!" Zephyr shouted.

"Wha—?" she replied, her mouth full.

"How do you not get fat?" Zephyr shook his head, amused.

"Where’s the old lady?" Damon was outside, scanning the hallway.

Gwen and Zephyr both paused.

"She could barely walk in here," Damon said, pointing. "Now she’s gone. Vanished."

Zephyr turned slowly to Gwen.

"Rest in peace." He bowed dramatically.

"It’s not poisoned, you moron!" Gwen snapped, still chewing.

"Okay, and..." Damon lifted all their bags telekinetically.

"Gwen, why's your bag so small?" he paused.

"Unlike you rich morons, I don’t have clothes," Gwen replied. "You guys are so rich, you can buy the same type of shirt like ten times."

Damon and Zephyr both narrowed their eyes, confused.

"The only thing I’ve got is that red shirt with a hole in it… and a few others I stole from him." Her mind flashed to the old man who raised her.

"Rest in peace, old man."

As if on cue, a voice echoed in her head:

"I’m not dead, you moron."

Damon leaned toward Zephyr.

"Are we still saying the same thing?" he whispered, eyes locked on Gwen.

Gwen snapped her eyes back to Damon.

"Oh yeah—Damon, you owe me a shirt."

"I’m aware," Damon smiled.

"Where’s Grimm?" Gwen looked around. "I need him to lend me some yukatas. That’s all I’ve been wearing since I got here—and apparently all he owns."

"Nope," Damon said immediately. "Grimm actually has a lot of clothes. He just likes wearing yukatas."

He paused, eyes lighting up.

"He probably even has your kind of red shirt. Like… a lot of them."

Just then, Grimm appeared in the living room.

"Where were you?" Damon asked. "Actually, don’t answer that. Gwen needs one of your shirts—the red kind that looks like hers."

Swoosh.

Grimm's wardrobe slid open in his room.

"Pick whatever you want." He pointed and walked off.

Moments later, Gwen came down with a pile of red shirts, all identical to hers.

"Curse you, you rich morons," she muttered.

Grimm chuckled.

Zephyr turned to him.

"Yeah, by the way—some old lady came in here with an apple pie. Said she knew we were heading out."

Grimm’s eyes widened, then narrowed.

"Yeah... you three are basically cursed now."

"What?" they all said at once.

"Did you eat the pie?" Grimm asked. "Because if you did, that’s even worse."

Slump.

Gwen collapsed dramatically to the floor, the pile of shirts burying her.

"Yep. She’s dead."

Clap.

Zephyr closed his eyes solemnly.

"Rest in peace."

Grimm chuckled.

"The old lady’s one of my sources. She’s the one who directed me here. I didn’t tell her where you were going—just that you were leaving."

Gwen suddenly sat up.

"I really thought I was a goner."

"I really thought you were a goner." Zephyr tilted his head.

"Damon helped Gwen pack the shirts into her bag.

"Honestly, I have no idea what we’re actually doing." Gwen chuckled. "I mean, we’re just going out into the world, what—holding up a flyer asking if anyone’s seen the Demon Lord? Then when someone says yes, we let them point the way, go there, beat him up? It’s kinda hilarious if you think about it."

Damon paused.

"Never really thought of it that way."

"I mean—where are we gonna sleep?, what are we gonna eat? What are we even doing?" Gwen raised a her hands.

"You being concerned is terrifying," Zephyr muttered.

"Oh yeah, you rich people have enough money to last us a lifetime." Gwen grinned.

Damon raised their bags telekinetically.

"Alright, all done." And with a puff, they vanished.

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"Grimm, we’re gonna need your card." Damon’s eyes locked onto Grimm.

"Why’s that?" Grimm fired back.

"You’ve got, like, three unlimited aurum cards or whatever," Damon frowned. "And you don’t even use them. You create extra rooms in this house without lifting a finger—you just do it."

"Fine." Grimm tossed a black card at him.

"And we’re off," Damon smiled.

"Just know—you guys can always come back whenever you like," Grimm said with a soft smile.

"We won’t!" Damon waved over his shoulder.

“We’re definitely coming back sooner than he thinks,” Gwen whispered.

“Yeah,” Damon laughed. “We have no idea what we’re doing. It seemed way easier in the movies, though, so I think we’ll be fine.”

“You mean, you’ve seen a movie where three teenagers venture into a massive world all on their own, in order to find the Demon Lord and beat him up?” Gwen turned to Damon with a half-smirk.

“Wait, do we even know where we’re gonna start from?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah. There’s a village close to Aeloria’s Mist. I was thinking we start from there,” Damon said.

Suddenly, the three of them stopped.

“We could’ve just asked Grimm to portal us,” Gwen said.

They all nodded. Then turned back.

“He’s gonna be so surprised,” Gwen smiled.

Barg!

They pushed the door open. “Grimm, we need—” Damon trailed off.

A portal shimmered in front of them.

Grimm, still lounging in his chair, casually raised a hand. “Figured.”

“Thanks,” Gwen grinned as they all stepped through.

Grimm stretched and stood up. “Time to get to work.”

---

They emerged from the portal, walking forward, their steps moving quietly.

“Damon, you said you’re looking for your sister, right? That’s like forty—maybe fifty—percent of this whole journey,” Gwen asked as she walked beside him.

Damon nodded.

“No offense but.... I just don’t see Grimm doing anything,” she continued. “I mean, you went into the Demon Lord’s castle, and now you’re off on a lifetime adventure that might kill you any minute.”

Damon looked down and smiled softly. “It might seem like that, but that’s not it. Grimm looks for her way more than I do. He goes out every night, checking cities and villages. I think he’s only letting me do this so I won’t feel useless. He tries to hide it, but I know he hasn’t slept in months.”

Gwen paused, guilt settling in. “Oh... I’m sorry.”

ROAR!!!

A distant sound echoed through the trees.

That’s when they realized...

They had been in a forest this whole time.

The trio rushed toward the source of the sound and saw a wild half-man, half-goat—a satyr—chasing a small boy. The creature had the upper body of a human and the legs and horns of a goat.

Gwen smiled. “So this is how we start our journey.”

"That's a satyr," Damon said, vanishing in a blur. He appeared beside the boy and snatched him out of the way just before the creature could ram them with its horns.

Gwen landed in front of the charging satyr, grabbed it by the horn, and slammed its face into the ground, knocking it out cold.

"Hey there, fella," Damon said, kneeling beside the boy. “What are you doing out here?”

The boy's eyes were wide, still reeling from how fast he had been moved.

“I’m Kuzan, I’m ten years old, and I’m on a quest.” the boy answered immediately.

He stood at about 53 inches tall, with messy brown hair and a blue crystal earring dangling from one ear. His clothes matched—blue top and pants—and a small stoss bag hung at his waist.

“A quest?” Zephyr asked.

“It’s a hunt,” Kuzan grinned.

“Are you alone?” Damon asked.

“Yep, pretty much,” Kuzan said, dusting himself off.

“Who lets a ten-year-old go on a quest all on his own?” Zephyr muttered under his breath.

“That’s the only way I can feed myself,” Kuzan replied with a shrug.

Zephyr blinked in surprise.

“Yep. I can hear you,” Kuzan pointed to his ear. “Sound waves.”

Zephyr raised an eyebrow.

“I’m a banshee,” Kuzan explained. “Apparently, we’re known for screaming, teleporting, phasing between the spirit and real world, and foreseeing death.” He paused. “I have none of that. Just the screaming part... and really good hearing, I guess.”

“How did they let you take the quest? Like, where did you even find it?” Zephyr asked.

“I’m in a guild,” Kuzan said with a proud smile. “They’re all really nice.”

“And they let you take on a hunt quest alone?” Zephyr raised an eyebrow.

“They were all busy,” Kuzan shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal.

“So what do you need to bring back to prove the quest is done?” Gwen asked, crouching next to the unconscious satyr.

“Did you kill it?” Kuzan asked.

Gwen poked the satyr with a finger. “I don’t think so.”

“If it’s dead, just a horn. If it’s alive, we have to bring the whole body,” Kuzan explained cheerfully.

“Full body it is then.”

He led them through the forest to a tall, weathered building with a crooked sign that read: “The Jackals.”

They followed him up to the door, the satyr floating behind Damon. As Kuzan pushed it open, the noise inside died down. Heads turned.

“Kuzan!” someone shouted. “You did it—your first hunt all on your own!”

Their cheers trailed off as they spotted the trio behind him.

Kuzan ignored it and led Damon to the counter, where he casually dropped the satyr’s body beside the barman.

“Here you go.”

The barman, a broad-shouldered man with a worn-out eye patch, gave the satyr a glance, then looked at Kuzan.

“Who are your they, Kuzan?”

“They’re my friends,” Kuzan replied proudly. “They helped me...."

“Carry the body of the satyr,” Damon added, flashing a wink at Kuzan.

The bar man backed off as the whole bar now echoed in his name.

“KUZAN! KUZAN! KUZAN!”

Later, upstairs in his tiny room, Kuzan cleared his bed for them to sit. Gwen and Zephyr squeezed onto the mattress while Damon settled on the floor beside him.

“Wait, don’t they pay you when you complete a quest?” Gwen asked, frowning.

Kuzan smiled faintly. “No. I don’t get paid. They get the money.”

“What?” Gwen blinked.

“They take the reward,” Kuzan explained. “And in return, I get food and a place to sleep.”

Gwen’s expression shifted. She didn’t say anything.

“They’re really nice,” Kuzan said, standing and grabbing a small photo from the nightstand. “They took me in when my parents died.”

He handed it to them. It was a picture of two mischievous-looking adults, beaming with wild energy.

“They were rascals,” he said with a smile. “They started this guild, but when they died, the others kept it going... and kept me around.”

“I’m the only kid here,” Kuzan added, sitting back down. “It gets kinda lonely sometimes. Everyone mostly just talks about women and alcohol... blah.”

“My parents only left me with this earring.” Kuzan turned his head to the side, revealing a small, shimmering piece.

“That’s very pretty,” Gwen smiled.

“Yeah, they said it would protect me and stuff,” Kuzan shrugged. “I mean, I’ve survived every quest I’ve gone on with them. And even that first solo quest—when I thought I was gonna die—you three saved me. So, I believe it works.”

“I’ve got another quest tomorrow. Hope the luck still holds.” He chuckled.

“How about we help you tomorrow?” Damon offered.

Kuzan blinked. “No, it’s okay. You three don’t look like you’re from around here. You’re probably just passing through. I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Well... not exactly,” Damon smiled. “So we don’t mind.”

Kuzan lit up and talked for hours—until night fell and he finally dozed off mid-sentence. Damon gently laid him on the bed, and the trio vanished without a trace.

---

The next morning

Kuzan stretched with a yawn. “That was a weird dream... Time to go on a quest.” He dressed quickly and headed downstairs—only to see the trio already sitting at a table, waiting.

“Yo,” Gwen waved casually.

Kuzan blinked. “Nope. Not dreaming.” He grinned.

Everyone else in the bar was knocked out cold—likely from last night’s drinking spree.

“So,” Gwen said, rising and walking over to the quest board, “which quest are we taking?”

Kuzan pointed to a scroll marked with a bold D on the side.

“A D-rank mission?” Gwen raised an eyebrow.

“That’s all I’m allowed to take for now,” Kuzan said with a smile.

Gwen ignored him, already digging through the board. “How about this one?” She pulled out a scroll labeled with a bold B.

“There’s no way I could do that,” Kuzan protested. “If you guys hadn’t saved me yesterday, I would’ve died on a D-rank quest.”

“Oh, look—it’s to hunt powerful monsters,” Gwen said, tuning him out. “And... it says they’ll pay in person, not through the guild!”

“I can’t do— I wouldn’t even be able to carry the monster’s tusk, if it has one!” Kuzan muttered, almost to himself.

“Let’s go!” Gwen shouted, already halfway to the door.

Kuzan shot Zephyr and Damon a desperate look: Is this what you deal with?

Zephyr nodded slowly, deadpan, completely understanding.

They were halfway through their journey when Gwen spoke up, squinting at the quest scroll. “It says here we’re looking for a Kludde. What the heck is that?”

“It’s known as a shapeshifting tormentor,” Damon said immediately. “The Kludde known as a bat—dog can change into a wide assortment of other animals—ravens, snakes, cats, frogs, bats... even trees, at some point. Other times, it appears as a man.”

“Or I would say that,” he continued, “but this world has been oversaturated with life source—Essence—for over three millennia. Creatures that were once just animals evolved into people. Back when the rift happened and the worlds collide, it was said that humans having no abilities then, leaked the most Essence, and over time, nearly every other creature began adopting a humanoid form. What we used to say was a creature turning into a man is now... a man turning into the creature at will.”

He paused, then added, “Though honestly, it’s hard to tell which came first—the man or the beast—especially since some already had humanoid forms, adopted from their own worlds before the Rift.”

Damon nodded. “It’s known that humans existed in countless separate worlds before the Rift happened. Most species did too, but humans were... everywhere. Like parallel versions of the same species living in alternate universes. It’s kind of intriguing when you think about it.” He smiled faintly at the thought.

“But like... when the Rift occurred, almost all of them died because they were the weakest physically and couldn’t handle the different shades of life energy leaking from the creatures of other realms. Even though they were one of the most intelligent species across any world, at that moment... intelligence didn’t matter.”

He leaned back. “So now, we can sometimes tell if a creature is still the original beast or the one who’s adapted to a humanoid form—by how they act. Some remain mindless, refusing to adapt. Others have evolved... or worse, they’ve become something more monstrous. You might find two of the same species—one enlightened by Essence, taking on a human form, and one completely feral.”

Damon turned to Zephyr. “Like the sylphs. They’re spirits or elementals of air—airy, light, delicate. They’re one of the four elementals, alongside gnomes for earth, undines for water, and salamanders for fire. Historically, sylphs ruled the skies and clouds... but now, many have achieved a humanoid form, same as others.”

By this point, Gwen’s brain wasn’t just fried—it was charred beyond recognition.

She raised a finger. “So you’re saying we have permission to beat this creature up as much as we want?”

Zephyr shook his head. “Not even close.”

Kuzan tilted his head. “I didn’t get most of that, but it kinda reminds me of the banshees. I read they were always female spirits who wailed to warn of death.”

Gwen turned to him. “You read about your own species—and if the records say you’re all female,” she leaned in, squinting, “why the heck are you male?”

Damon chuckled, stepping in. “When the Rift happened, creatures started recording what their species were like in their original worlds. In the case of banshees, let’s say seventy percent of the ones who survived and took on humanoid forms wrote that banshees were female spirits. So, since that view was the most common, it kinda just became the standard. Everyone went with it.”

He shrugged. “That’s why now, you’ll find in books and scrolls that banshees are all female spirits—even though, like, the other thirty percent of banshees will tell you they weren’t necessarily female. Some say they had humanoid forms in their own worlds. Others? They weren’t even spirits to begin with. It’s all perspective.”

Kuzan’s eyes lit up. “Okay, now that makes sense!”

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Right.”

She clearly still didn’t understand.

They walked for hours, searching for the spot, until the sun began to bleed into the horizon.

“Okay, what gives?” Gwen muttered. “It says it lives in this forest or whatever, so where the hell is it?”

Zephyr took the scroll from her hands, scanning it with a sigh. “Exactly what I thought. You didn’t read the whole thing. The townsfolk said the creature only shows up after sunset—closer to nightfall.”

“You sure?” Damon asked. “I thought darkness came with the Kludde, not before it.”

As if on cue, a faint screech echoed from deep within the trees—as if the forest wasn’t already deep enough.

A gust of wind blew past, unnaturally cold.

Zephyr’s eyes narrowed. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”