Zerutod stood at the edge of the bustling marketplace, the vibrant sounds of Marigold swirling around him. The air was thick with the scent of spices and the chatter of merchants hawking their wares. He could hear the clinking of coins, the rustle of fabric, and the laughter of children playing nearby. Yet, beneath the surface of this cheerful facade, a darker current flowed, one that sent a chill down his spine.
“Did you hear about the Order of the Ashen Serpent?” a voice whispered, barely audible over the din. Zerutod’s keen electroreception picked up the vibrations of the conversation, drawing his attention. He turned slightly, tilting his head to catch the words.
“They say they’re targeting anyone with magic,” another voice replied, laced with fear. “They’ll do anything to get their hands on powerful artifacts.”[/color]
Zerutod’s heart raced. The Order of the Ashen Serpent was a name he had heard in hushed tones, a shadowy organization rumored to be ruthless in their pursuit of power. He had always dismissed it as mere gossip, but now, the implications were clear. Aeliana, his closest friend, possessed rare healing magic—magic that could make her a prime target.
“Zerutod!” Aeliana’s voice broke through his thoughts, warm and familiar. He turned to face her, a soft smile forming on his lips. She stood there, her auburn hair catching the sunlight, her green eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What are you thinking about?”
“Just… the market,” he replied, feigning nonchalance. “It’s lively today.”
Aeliana raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "You’re not fooling me. You’ve been distant lately. Is something bothering you?”
Zerutod hesitated, the weight of the rumors pressing down on him. “I heard some troubling news. About the Order.”
Her expression shifted, concern etching lines on her forehead. “What did you hear?”
“They’re targeting individuals with magic. They want to control powerful artifacts and secrets.”[/color] He paused, gauging her reaction. “You should be careful, Aeliana.”[/color]
Aeliana’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I can take care of myself, Zerutod. You know that.”
“I know,” he said, his voice firm. “But this is different. They’re not just after artifacts; they’re willing to kill to get what they want.”[/color]
Aeliana’s gaze softened, and she stepped closer, her hand brushing against his arm. “You worry too much. We’ll be fine. We always are.”
Zerutod felt a pang of frustration. "You don’t understand. This isn’t just about us. It’s about your safety. I can’t lose you.”
“Zerutod…” she began, but he cut her off.
“I need to find out more about the Order. I can’t just sit back and hope for the best.” His determination surged, fueled by the thought of Aeliana in danger. “I’ll go to the taverns tonight. I’ll talk to some of the locals, see what I can learn.”
Aeliana frowned, her brow furrowing. “You’re not thinking of putting yourself in danger, are you? Those places can be… rough.”
“I can handle myself,” he insisted, his voice steady. “I’ve trained for this. I won’t let them get to you.”
“Promise me you’ll be careful,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I promise,” he replied, though a part of him knew the danger was real and growing. As they walked through the market, Zerutod’s mind raced with thoughts of the Order and the lengths they would go to achieve their goals. He could feel the shadows closing in, and he was determined to protect Aeliana at any cost.

As night fell, Zerutod made his way to the tavern, the dimly lit establishment nestled between two crumbling buildings. The air was thick with smoke and the scent of cheap ale. He stepped inside, his senses heightened, the vibrations of laughter and conversation swirling around him.
“Hey, blind man!” a rough voice called from the corner. “What are you doing here? Lost your way?”
Zerutod turned toward the sound, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’m just here for a drink, if you don’t mind.”
The man laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “You think you can handle it? You can’t even see what’s in front of you!”
“Maybe I can’t see,” Zerutod replied, his tone light, “but I can certainly hear you. And I can tell you’re not worth my time.”
The man’s laughter faltered, replaced by a scowl. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?”
“Clever enough to know when to walk away from a fool,” Zerutod shot back, turning his attention to the bar. He approached the bartender, a burly man with a thick beard. “I’m looking for information about the Order of the Ashen Serpent.”
The bartender’s expression darkened. “You’re treading dangerous waters, friend. Best leave that name out of your mouth.”
Zerutod leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I’m not afraid of danger. I need to know what they’re planning.”
The bartender hesitated, glancing around the room. “Fine. But you didn’t hear it from me. They’re ruthless. They’ve been making moves in the shadows, targeting anyone with magic. You’d do well to keep your head down.”
Zerutod nodded, his resolve hardening. “What else?”
“Rumor has it they’re looking for a healer,” the bartender continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “Someone with rare abilities.”
Zerutod’s heart sank. “Aeliana…”
“Yeah, you’d best protect her,” the bartender warned. “They won’t hesitate to eliminate anyone who stands in their way.”[/color]
“Thanks for the warning,” Zerutod said, his mind racing. He turned to leave, but the bartender called after him.
“Be careful, blind man. The Order doesn’t play games.”
As Zerutod stepped back into the night, the weight of the bartender’s words settled heavily on his shoulders. He had to act quickly. Aeliana’s safety depended on it. The shadows of the Order loomed larger, and he was determined to uncover their plans before it was too late.
With a deep breath, he set off into the darkness, the flickering lanterns casting long shadows on the cobblestone streets. The night was just beginning, and so was his fight against the encroaching darkness.