A myriad of thoughts were chirning within Allen's mind; It would be the first time to set foot back in Duskwatch since the incident with the Sunctum.
It had been a while, things would have cooled down by now; at least that's what he hoped for.
He knew he had to be hasty, he placed the tomes on the desk in his hollow, got to his stash of coins, heavy; he had made quite the haul for the past weeks. Hopefully they would be enough to replace his weapons ,maybe even get an upgrade.
Allen knew exactly where to find Irvin; where else if not the spine.
After a path of winding stone halls, a flight of stairs, Allen arrived to the spine.He scanned the area looking for a certain spirited elf
There.
He spotted Irvin who gestured him towards the ascending stairs- head to the main hall.
"Hey there mr. Gloomy" Irvin greeted with a smirk .
Allen gave him a nod and they proceeded towards the flight of stairs.
"For a moment, I thought you wouldn't show"
"Been occupied, with Shardu"
"Mhh...lets head for the tarvern" Irvin brushed him off, heading for a small shack.
There was a bell chime once they entered the "tarvern"
The host, a large man , was sitting at the counter, he seemed to be fast asleep.
But his eyes shot open once they headed for him
"What do you want?" He asked with a grunt
"Feisty... Urm... I need travel provisions for two." That was Irvin's energetic response.
The man proceeded to take a bundle, jerky some cheese and two canteens of water.
"Three silver"
***
The journey to the top was arduous and tiresome.
The slanting rock tunnels,steep wall without hand and footholds. Soon they would get to the final layers of rock before the surface.
The final steps out of the Gray Codex enclave were steep and narrow, cut into old bedrock slick with time. Allen's boots scraped against rough stone, his fingers brushing the cold wall for balance. The air changed gradually as he ascended — less metallic, less stale, until a faint breath of petrichor and leaf-rot teased his senses.
Then —
Light.
Not artificial, not torchlight. Natural. Muffled. Real.
He pushed open the last gate — a rust-bitten iron barrier hidden beneath a mossy outcrop — and stepped into the world above.
It was like stepping into a forgotten dream.
It hit him all at once — the air.
Clean, wide, biting with early morning chill, and alive in a way the underground could never mimic. He staggered slightly, blinking against the sudden openness, the sharp clarity of the sky. It wasn't just light — it was sky. Vast, endless, unobstructed
"You good?" Irvin asked
"Give me a moment to catch my breath"
Irvin stood, slightly leaning on a lichen covered tree, his arms folded on his chest.
Allen paused.
Breathed.
And the forest breathed with him.
The canopy hung heavy above him, leaves the color of bruised emerald swaying with slow wind. Shafts of sunlight broke through in scattered ribbons, cutting gold across damp forest floor. Birds he couldn't name trilled overhead, their song sharp and unfiltered — jarring after weeks of silence and echo. Insects buzzed, unseen but present, and the soft crush of leaves underfoot was a strange comfort.
He smelled wet bark, lichen, the faint sweetness of flowering moss — and beneath it, the lingering scent of ash and old magic. Duskgrove was no ordinary forest. It had roots that had tasted blood, branches that remembered.
Even the shadows here felt different. They didn't creep like in the enclave. They stretched. Watched. Waited.
Irvin walked a few paces ahead, nonchalant. "Come on we don't have all day, the journey is long" he said glancing back.
Allen gave a silent nod, eyes scanning the tangled underbrush. Somewhere deep within the grove, a shriek echoed — not beast, not bird, but something… stranger. Allen didn't flinch. He belonged to the strangeness now.
***
After a few hours of winding through overgrown trails and passing the half-buried remnants of forgotten altars and stone totems, the trees thinned.
The sun had already set.
Irvin handed him a bundle of dried jerky and a small block of cheese .
They didn't stop, not even to eat.... there were barely halfway through with their journey.
The forest floor was a quiet breath beneath their boots. Each step muffled by damp loam, old leaves, and the ghost of rain.
Duskgrove was not a place meant for travelers — not after nightfall.
The trees loomed like ancient watchers, their branches hunched and gnarled, their roots twisted like the veins of a buried god. The canopy above swallowed the moonlight whole, leaving only slivers of silver to paint their path.
Allen adjusted the cloak around his shoulders, twin shortswords tied parallel across the back of his waist, hidden under fabric, instruments of violence tucked against silence.
Irvin walked a pace ahead, cloak swaying, a hand ever close to the bandolier of darts strapped across his chest. His movements were light — too light for someone who moved with such casualness.
"Still with me, boy?" Irvin asked over his shoulder, voice low but easy.
Allen didn't answer. His eyes flicked to the woods around them. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted — short and clipped. A second later, silence again. Deeper silence.
He hated how familiar it was.
Duskgrove reminded him of Shatter-Root Ravine — where the willow spiders found him. Where the Courier died. The shadows of that memory clung to his heels with every step. Even now, the air here felt… thick. Breathing through wet cloth, each inhale laced with the scent of bark, rot, and something older.
Irvin slowed beside him.
"You're too quiet. Don't tell me you're getting sentimental."
"Just remembering," Allen muttered.
"Memories are dangerous things in these woods."
"You'll never know when a beast would twist and turn them aganist you. Until you've walked ye' self to its maw"
They walked for a while longer, deeper into the dark. Eventually, Irvin pointed to a low rise — moss-covered, with a slanted stone slab half-swallowed by earth.
"We camp here. Don't light a fire."
Allen raised a brow. "Because of the beasts?"
"Because of the things that aren't."
He said it without a hint of jest.
They settled in under a curved root arching like a twisted rib over the stone. No fire. No chatter. Just cold rations — stale cheese and dried meat jerky. Allen chewed slowly, his back to the earth, eyes on the tangled branches overhead.
The night grew colder. Tighter. Every crack of twig or flutter of wings seemed louder here.
Neither of them slept much.
---
Morning came like a reluctant breath.
A faint blue light crept between the trees, softening their jagged edges. Mist hung low to the ground, curling like smoke. The birdsong returned, tentative but hopeful. They moved quietly — no conversation, just pace and rhythm.
By midmorning, the forest began to change. The trees grew thinner, less oppressive. The moss gave way to dry undergrowth. Shafts of sunlight pierced through without hesitation now.
Hours passed. The sun burned overhead and waned.
When they crested the final ridge, the world opened.
And then, over a ridge — Duskwatch.
The city opened before them like a wound beneath the sky.
Towering spires, crooked chimneys exhaling smoke, narrow streets crawling with noise and motion. Market bells clanged in the distance. Vendors hawked boiled grain and spiced meat. Dock-cranes swung lazily at the horizon. Somewhere, someone screamed — laughter or violence, it was hard to tell.
Allen stepped from moss to cobblestone, the jolt like waking from sleep.
The smells hit first — sweat, charcoal, iron, perfume, and the ever-present stench of low-tide rot from the Blackwater River.
Then came the sounds — boots, wheels, cries, arguments, the ever-persistent whisper of the crowd.
And people — so many people. Faces he didn't know, each one looking through him as if he weren't there.
But he was there.
Changed.
Different.
Allen's hand brushed the edge of his cloak, fingers grazing the hilts of the twin shortswords hidden beneath. One still chipped from the ambush. The other steady. Balanced.
"Welcome back," Irvin said, half-smiling as they moved into the current of the city.
Allen didn't respond.
He didn't feel like he'd come back.
He felt like something new had arrived in his place.