Cold sweat dribbled down Pithy’s brow as she tightened the bandages on her right arm. Once she was satisfied with the tightness, she held the bandaged limb out towards the room’s door. Ice began to coat the lock and hinges, sticking them in place.

She let out a slow breath at that, hugging the inert limb close to herself. She could hardly feel anything below the elbow now, but the waves of cold easily swept past the covers where she touched them.

[i]Not my finest work, but it will do for what lies ahead,[/i] she thought with forced dismissiveness. It was far too late for regrets at that point.

She leaned back against the wall, letting herself sink down to a sitting position. All that was left was to wait.

As she had told Dew earlier, she had sprinkled the inside of the building with a number of detection wards. A very simple and inconspicuous cantrip, a variation of which she often used to keep herself aware of her surroundings when resting in unfamiliar places. She had left the wards at various thresholds, such as entrances, emergency exits, stairs, elevator doors, and more specifically, the doors to the two rooms where she had left instructions for the enemy she awaited. They were not disguised—given her condition, attempts at doing so would only have made them more obvious—but they were unassuming enough that she doubted they would be sniffed out unless an intruder was well-versed in the arcane, and was actively searching for them.

That said, that it was not a certainty was something she was deeply aware of. Aside from the few clues she had left to guide intruders, like the lights left on at the apartment and the smashed lock for that room’s door, those wards could well become a second trail for someone to follow. Fortunately, that it would grab the attention of any who found them could be of use to her. For that reason she had not placed any magical wards at the entrance to her hiding place. If someone crossed them or attempted to tamper with them, she would know. Unless they preferred to wander aimlessly through the building until they happened to land upon her, they would have to.

She planned to use this to her advantage to keep track of intruders until she felt it a good time to use her escape route. Namely, the metal chute to the basement placed in the room she had chosen. It would not normally have been an option, given that the opening was not large enough to fit a grown human—or elf, for that matter—but the black and green bracelet fastened to her left wrist gave her some flexibility in that regard.

Pithy nodded to herself. If all went according to plan, she would be able to shape the next altercation to her needs. For that, she would need to be watchful. Both of the state of her wards, and of sudden noises like the thunder of Dew’s weapon in the distance.

[hr]

Dew was going to be angry if all he had gotten was a cosmetic reward. There was a reason people had gone up in arms against lootboxes when they caught on to how disgusting a monetization system it actually was. The power lottery couldn’t be much better if it also came with extreme pain and vivid hallucinations at every pull.

Though what kind of whale demographic that could attract he was not sure he wanted to know.

Once Dew managed to shake himself out of his stupor and he caught his reflection in the window, it did not take long for him to find the change. The creepy black eyeball was not exactly subtle.

He had rushed off to the apartment’s bathroom to have a better look at that point, leaving only a clueless plant monster to keep watch.

Unfortunately, attempts at figuring out what the eye did—most of which revolved around staring intently at the toiletry—did not shed light on any new abilities beyond a persistent itch that made it hard to keep it open. It reminded him of the feeling he got when he spent too much time staring at a screen without blinking.

[i]Man, if Pithy got mad about red eyes, she’s going to freak out about this one.[/i]

Eventually, he gave up and came back out to the dark living room. He found the large plant monster Pithy had adopted slithering around the discarded arrow, curiously poking it with its snout.

“Guessing you didn’t see anything while I was out?”

The creature craned its neck to look at him, blowing a quick raspberry his way.

[i]I swear all snakes are assholes.[/i] He walked over to where the creature was, shooing him away with a hand before leaning down to pick up the arrow. He brought it closer to his face, examining it. It didn’t look at all different from when he had first picked it up—certainly not as though it had gone through his arm not moments prior. What had been the point of that, anyway? He wished a tutorial message would have appeared to tell him what was new. He almost wondered if he should take another stab at himself to see if it did anything different.

A chill raced down his spine at that thought, the pain and hallucination he had seen flashing through his mind and sending a shiver up the hand that held the relic.

[i]Maybe I should leave the real experimenting to Pithy,[/i] he thought, letting the hand holding the arrow fall to his side.

He took his camping spot close to the window once again, surveying the empty streets. Almost as if to punctuate this thought, a bird crowed in the distance.

Dew sighed.

He knew where to stand to keep himself hidden from view. It was not as if he had never camped a single spot in a map, waiting for people to come by for easy kills when he couldn’t expect quick respawns. As long as you found a good spot, that was a way to get your chicken dinners when you were not terribly familiar with your surroundings. Not something that would fly with an audience, mind you, but that was not an issue here. That said, he was not typically expected to sit still for hours on end before anything happened.

Sadly, he had agreed to do this stakeout thing properly, so he couldn’t well take a nap this time. Bored as he was, he found himself wishing something happened sooner rather than later. That, in turn, led to thoughts of what he should do when that time came, and that once again redirected his thoughts to the arrow he still held in his hand. More specifically, to the fact that it had not originally been meant for him.

“And I’m supposed to play decoy if things go south too, aren’t I?” He might not get a chance to get the relic to Pithy before things got ugly.

Taking a glance at the large snake monster lounging nearby, though, it occurred to him that there was a solution to that predicament.

“Here boy,” he said, patting his leg and drawing the snake’s attention to him. “See this? He said, holding the arrow out. “We need to get it to that lady in white we’ve been following around. Thing is, we can’t go and give it to her right now, and I probably won’t be able to go give it to her later. You with me so far?”

The creature stared blankly at him.

“Great. Well, I’m going to need you to hold onto this thing and go give it to her when I tell you. She took you to the bookstore yesterday, right?” He paused for a moment. “Do you know what a bookstore is?”

The snake tilted its head lightly. 

Dew scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Place with all the rectangles?” At the snake’s silent stare he drew the shape in the air and added, “you know, like this?”

At that the snake let out a short hiss, bobbing its head forward.

[i]Oh, good, it does understand. I feel like a crazy person when I’m talking and it just stares without doing anything.[/i] Dew went to place the object at his feet, but hesitated as a thought struck him. He paused to wrap the paper the note he had found with the arrow around its shaft before leaving it on the floor by the snake. “Great, then hold onto this for now.”

The creature loomed over the proffered object, sniffing at it curiously, before it reared back, shaking slightly. For a moment Dew wondered if the thing was scared of the relic, until he noticed its head bobbing up and down, as though trying to dislodge something from its throat. The snake made a retching noise, and an oval object only slightly smaller than Dew’s fist clattered on the ground.

“Nice. Is that a timer? Did you steal it from the apartment’s kitchen?” As the snake leaned down to swallow the arrow, Dew picked up the object, turning it in his hand curiously. “Probably mistook it for an egg.” 

Turning the dial on a whim, Dew quickly realized that the snake had vomited something far more valuable than an oven timer.