It was beginning to grow dark. Another half hour, and the sun would vanish completely behind the horizon, surrendering this world to the rule of two moons. The village came into view. Everything was in place: the same wooden fence, the same wide gates, and not even a wisp of smoke from any fires rising upward. It was quiet and peaceful. That couldn’t help but bring relief—even though somewhere deep inside, a worm of doubt had begun to gnaw. Or were there really worms inside me?! I’d better check, because I wasn’t sure my bones could handle parasites. Even humans can carry all sorts of worms and other creatures inside them without ever suspecting they’re sharing their life with such company.

  We reached the gates, and I finally understood what had been bothering me. Instead of the two familiar guards—the stout guy and the short one—I saw two newcomers: a young man and a woman, both armed with ordinary spears. Their helmets only covered the tops of their heads. They were chatting casually:

  — “Imagine—right out in the open! I was so surprised. Haven’t seen anything like that in ages. Someday I’ll definitely do it again, but even more beautifully.”

  — “You spend too much time on trivial things. You could easily do two or three things at once. That’d be far more efficient.”

  — “But more efficient doesn’t mean more impressive. Beauty matters far more than quantity. Better to do something once—but perfectly—than five times just decently! Get it?”

  — “Who says it’d be ‘decent’? If you can’t manage that, I certainly can do everything well.”

  — “What? Since when did you get so skilled?”

  — “Always!”

  — “Hey, guys!” Sem interrupted their steadily escalating argument. “Can we please enter the village? We’ve been walking all day without rest, and right now we’d really like to eat and sleep.”

  — “And who are you?” the young man asked, eyeing our group suspiciously. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

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  — “We left on a mission and have just returned,” Sem explained calmly. “We stayed at Granny Brin’s tavern. You can ask the other guards who were here before you.”

  — “Go check whether they’re allowed in,” the young man said to the girl. “I’ll stay here.”

  — “Alright,” she drawled and disappeared behind the gates.

  While the heavy gates stood open, I could see ordinary villagers shuffling through the settlement. They looked drowsy, barely dragging their feet as they headed home. “Apparently, this day was as hard as many before it,” I thought. “I hope they’ll let me come back here to help them. I could plow their fields and tend to the crops while they take care of their household chores. Everyone deserves to return to a warm home where someone’s waiting for them—to spend the evening talking, resting, teaching their children, or listening to the elders, who so desperately need attention. Their lives are so short; it’s a shame to waste most of it on pointless things like labor, war, or worse.”

  — “So… you’re adventurers, then?” the bored young guard asked, tired of waiting. “You deal with dangerous stuff? Kill dragons and skeletons and all that?”

  — “Well, we don’t exactly go around killing skeletons,” Scott shot me a sly glance, “but yeah—we eliminate all kinds of monsters and terrifying creatures. Just recently, we managed to take down a real ogre.”

  — “An ogre?! You mean those huge, one-eyed giants that eat people?”

  — “Nah, those are cyclopes. We killed an ogre.”

  — “Ah, got it! Those stitched together from lots of dead people, who then eat people themselves?”

  — “No, those are cadavers.”

  — “Oh! The ones that run on their hands and eat people?”

  — “Nope, those are Aigamuchabs.”

  — “Right, right! The ones that stand silently, stare at you from the darkness, and then eat people?”

  — “No. Those…” Scott faltered and glanced at the rest of us. “I don’t even know who you’re talking about. Anyway—ogres are these massive beasts. Picture a goblin who took up wrestling, ate a roasted pig every day, and then grew five times taller. That’s an ogre. Huge, scary, strong, and with skin tough as hell.”

  — “Oh! Serious guys, then. Good to know,” the young man replied, scratching his chin.

  — “You may pass. They’re ready,” a female voice called out, and one gate panel swung open slightly.

  We started filing in one by one—when suddenly a question flared up inside my hollow skull: “Who’s ‘ready’?!”