They walked into the tavern and noticed right away that this place was unlike the one they had visited before.

The air was thick with the smell of sweat, cheap ale, and something metallic—blood, maybe, or old iron. The wooden floors were scratched and stained. The tables were covered in dents and burn marks. And the patrons.

No one gave a shit how they looked. That was the first thing Jason noticed. In the last tavern, every eye had turned toward them the moment they walked in. Here? Nothing. Not a single glance. Not even a flicker of curiosity.

But this felt like a gathering of criminals. They all looked so dangerous.

Jason’s eyes swept across the room. A massive orc-like creature in the corner, covered in scars, sharpening an axe the size of Jason’s torso. A cloaked figure with glowing red eyes, nursing a drink in the shadows. A group of armored warriors with weapons still strapped to their backs, laughing about something that sounded a lot like a recent kill.

These things were huge. They all had a different feel from the creatures outside. No polished armor. No formal greetings. Just raw, unapologetic danger.

Thalion stepped forward, positioning himself between Jason and the room. His frail body was still shaky, his silver hair still matted, but something in his posture had changed.

"Stay behind me," Thalion whispered, his voice low but steady. "We cannot show any weakness in a place like this."

Thankfully, Ylva was used to being surrounded by predatory creatures. Growing up in a werewolf pack had taught her how to move, how to breathe, how to hold herself around things that could kill her. Her face was neutral. Her shoulders were relaxed. Her tail didn’t even flick.

But Jason was uneasy. His heart was pounding. His palms were sweaty. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to turn around and walk out.

"Want to pretend to be an elf again?" Ylva whispered to him, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Jason rolled his eyes. "Bite me."

They approached the counter at the back of the room. Behind it stood a creature Jason couldn’t quite identify—scaly skin, yellow eyes, fingers that were just a little too long. A lizardkin, maybe, or something else entirely.

"Welcome, travelers," the creature said, its voice raspy but practiced. "Do you want help with something?"

Thalion cut in before Jason could open his mouth. He decided to dictate the conversation entirely.

"Hello," Thalion said calmly. "I want to know about the Velveteen Watch."

Jason’s head turned sharply toward the elf. That name hadn’t come up before. Not once. Not during the escape, not during the journey, not during any of their conversations.

They weren’t here by chance. Thalion was hiding more from them than he let on. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

The creature behind the desk looked at Thalion, taking a second look at his pale face, his matted hair, his sunken eyes. Then the creature took a step back, its yellow eyes widening slightly.

"That guild..." the creature said slowly. "How do you know its name?"

Thalion didn’t move. His expression was completely indifferent, like he had expected this reaction.

The creature behind the desk seemed to understand something Jason didn’t. Its scaly hands gripped the edge of the counter, and its voice dropped lower.

"They have been inactive for a couple of years," the creature informed him. "Inactive and classified as KIA."

Thalion sighed. A long, slow breath that seemed to carry the weight of centuries.

Jason’s mind was racing. Elves had unnaturally long lives—Thalion had just proven that by surviving who knows how long in that dungeon. So there was no telling what era the elf was talking about. But there was no doubt about one thing: Thalion wasn’t born and bred in that castle. He had a life before the cages, before the torture, before Tauriel.

Which meant they must have captured him. Used him to try to reproduce. Kept him alive all these years as nothing more than breeding stock.

That would make the most sense. But of course, this was something neither Jason nor Ylva had any idea about. They were both standing there confused, exchanging glances.

"I see," Thalion said quietly. "Thank you."

He turned and walked toward an empty table in the corner without waiting for a response. Jason and Ylva followed, sliding onto the wooden benches.

A server appeared—a young green creature with tired eyes and a stained apron—and took their order without comment. Food. Water. Nothing fancy.

The moment she left, Jason leaned forward.

"What the hell is the Velveteen Watch?" he asked. "Is it some low-budget remake of Game of Thrones?"

Thalion and Ylva stared at him blankly.

"What are you talking about?" Thalion questioned.

Jason waved his hand. "Oh, I forgot. Anyways, yeah. What is that?"

Thalion was quiet for a moment. His pale fingers traced the scratches on the wooden table.

"It is my guild," he said finally. "In another life, I thought they would still be active. But I guess it is too much to ask after three hundred years."

Jason’s jaw dropped. "Hold the fuck up! You are three hundred!? You’re ancient! Should I call you sir? Should I bow?"

Thalion waved him off, a flicker of annoyance crossing his gaunt face. "It is fine. But I don’t think they are dead."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Because I would have felt it," Thalion said simply. "We had a bond. A magical one. If they had all died, something in me would have... broken."

Ylva leaned forward, her eyes narrowed. "Say, how were you so strong and still got captured? You can blow up heads with a flick of your wrist. You shattered an enchanted door like it was made of paper."

Thalion suddenly lost the ability to speak once again. His mouth opened, then closed. His eyes darted away.

Jason chuckled. He knew exactly why.

"You fell for the coochie, huh?" Jason muttered, shaking his head.

Ylva sighed, her ears drooping. "Of course. I should have guessed. A powerful elf brought down by a pretty face. Pathetic."

Thalion’s pale cheeks flushed slightly. "She was... convincing. And I was young. Only one hundred at the time."

"Only one hundred," Jason repeated, deadpan. "Yeah, just a baby. Practically a fetus."

The food arrived before Thalion could respond—three bowls of thick stew, chunks of bread, and a pitcher of water. Jason didn’t wait. He grabbed his bowl and started eating like he hadn’t seen food in days.

Which, technically, he hadn’t.

Between bites, he looked up at Thalion. "So what’s the plan? Find your dead-or-alive guild and hope they don’t kill us on sight?"

Thalion nodded slowly. "Something like that."

"Great," Jason muttered. "Love a plan with absolutely no details."

Ylva kicked him under the table. "Eat your stew and shut up."