The night was unnaturally quiet, the stillness outside broken only by the faint rustle of wind through the trees. Inside the farmhouse, the air was warm but heavy, laden with the faint smell of woodsmoke and the earthy scent of the fields beyond. Raelyn lay in the small guest room, finally succumbing to the weight of her exhaustion. Her dreams, however, were restless—filled with shadowy figures and the ever-present sense of being hunted.

A soft, insistent scratching at the window jolted her awake. At first, she thought she might have imagined it, her tired mind playing tricks on her. But then it came again, sharper this time, like claws raking against the glass. Her heart pounded as she sat up, her hand instinctively going to the locket resting against her chest. Its cool metal was a small comfort as she tried to steady her breathing.

The scratching continued, more frantic now. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she turned toward the window, the moonlight casting long, pale streaks across the floor. She hesitated for a moment before sliding off the bed, her bare feet brushing the cold wooden planks. Slowly, cautiously, she approached the window and peered out.

Her breath caught in her throat. Outside, illuminated by the faint glow of the moon, was a small, familiar figure. Massah. The imp's wide, darting eyes gleamed with panic, and he gestured frantically for her to open the window. His sharp claws scratched at the frame as he glanced nervously over his shoulder, as though expecting to be followed.

Raelyn's mind raced. Why was he here? Could she trust him? Her fingers hovered over the latch as doubt crept in. But then she saw the raw fear in his trembling hands, the desperation in his jerky movements. Her instincts urged her forward. With a deep breath, she unlatched the window and pushed it open just enough for him to scramble inside.

Massah tumbled in with a flurry of nervous energy. His small frame trembled. "Massah come with warning!" he blurted, his voice a hushed but urgent whisper.

Before Raelyn could respond, the door to her room burst open, slamming against the wall. Hovan stormed in, his sword already drawn, the blade gleaming in the dim light. His sharp eyes scanned the room, landing immediately on the imp.

"What is that doing here?" he growled, advancing with deliberate, heavy steps.

Massah yelped and stumbled back, his hands shooting up in surrender. "No harm! No harm!" he squeaked. "Massah only come to help!"

Hovan's grip on his sword tightened, his voice low and dangerous. "Why should we believe you? You're one of them."

Massah shook his head so violently it seemed as though it might snap off. "No! No! Massah owe white-haired girl! She let Massah live! Demons kill Massah if they find him helping!" His clawed fingers twisted anxiously, and his leathery skin glistened with sweat.

From the bed, Rakz let out a low, guttural growl. His golden eyes locked onto Massah, his sleek body tensed and ready to pounce. Raelyn quickly stepped between them, placing a calming hand on Rakz's head even as her heart raced. "Hovan, stop," she said firmly, her voice sharper than she intended. "Let him speak."

Hovan's eyes narrowed, but he held his position, his sword still at the ready. Raelyn turned to the imp, her voice softening. "Massah, why are you here? What's happened?"

Massah's breath came in short, panicked bursts as he wrung his hands. "Abigor knows," he said, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "Knows you go to elves. He close. Closer than you think. You must leave. Get to forest. Elves strong. Elves protect you!"

Hovan took a deliberate step forward, his expression sharpening with distrust. His hand hovered near the hilt of his sword, though he didn't draw it yet. "How do we know you're not leading us into a trap?" His voice was measured but carried an edge. "You could be here on Abigor's orders, luring us into some ambush."

Massah's wide eyes darted frantically between Hovan and Raelyn, his small form trembling. "No trap!" he cried, dropping to his knees with a desperate thud. "No trick! Massah swear! Massah just want to help!"

Hovan's jaw tightened, his gaze unwavering. "Demons don't help, Raelyn," he said coldly. "They manipulate. Twist your trust until it suits them." He turned back to the imp, his tone cutting. "For all we know, this is part of some grand game—Abigor's game. Maybe he's using you to get to us."

Massah shook his head violently, his hands clutching at his bony chest as though his heart might give out. "No game! No game!" he squeaked. "Massah help because white-haired girl kind! She spared Massah! Massah swears!"

Raelyn stood frozen for a moment, the imp's pleas washing over her. Her grip on the locket tightened, the cool metal pressing against her palm. Her eyes narrowed as she studied Massah, his trembling frame, his quivering voice. Something in the raw fear on his face tugged at her—a familiarity she couldn't ignore.

She saw flashes of her past under Grorm's control: the oppressive weight of servitude, the daily reminder that her life was not her own. Massah's desperation mirrored her own in those dark days, and she couldn't turn away from it.

"What if he's telling the truth?" she asked quietly, her voice cutting through the tension. She met Hovan's glare, her expression steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within her. "If he wanted us dead, there are easier ways for him to do it. He wouldn't need to warn us."

Hovan hesitated, his fingers curling into fists. "We've been burned before, Raelyn. Demons don't bargain—they scheme. What happens if you're wrong? If this... creature is playing the long game, waiting for the perfect moment to deliver us to Abigor?"

Raelyn exhaled slowly, her resolve hardening. "And what happens if I'm right? If we ignore this warning and walk straight into danger?"

The tension between them thickened, Hovan's distrust clashing against Raelyn's instincts. Finally, with a sharp exhale, Hovan turned his gaze back to Massah, his posture still tense. "Speak plainly," he barked. "Why are you really here? What do you gain from helping us?"

Massah's clawed hands twisted nervously. "Massah gain nothing! Nothing but safety!" he squeaked. "Demons kill Massah if they find out he help. But Massah think white-haired girl—she different. She strong. She fight them. Maybe Massah live if she win."

Hovan's eyes narrowed, searching the imp for any trace of deceit. After a long moment, he let out a frustrated growl, shaking his head. "This could still be a mistake," he muttered, but the fight in his voice had dimmed. "We can't afford to take chances, but..." He glanced at Raelyn, his expression softening just enough to show his begrudging acceptance. "If you believe him, I'll follow your lead."

Raelyn's chest tightened with a mixture of relief and apprehension. She nodded, turning back to Massah. "What do we do?" she asked, her voice steady despite her racing heart.

Massah's clawed finger shot toward the window, pointing at the dark expanse of the forest visible in the distance. "Go quickly!" he urged. "If you get to elves, you safe. They strong. Demons can't reach you there."

Hovan's jaw clenched as he moved toward the door. "Then we leave now," he said, his voice firm. "The longer we stay, the greater the risk."

Raelyn's heart clenched as she thought of Lydia and her children, their kind faces flashing in her mind. "What about the family? We can't just leave them here," she said, her voice trembling with urgency.

"They'll slow us down," Hovan countered, his tone unyielding. "It's too dangerous, Raelyn. We're already targets. If they're with us, it's a death sentence—for them and for us."

Raelyn stepped closer to him, her eyes blazing with resolve. "We brought this danger to their doorstep when we came knocking. I won't abandon them to whatever follows us now."

Hovan's jaw tightened, his frustration evident. "And if they can't keep up? If the demons find us because we're dragging them along?"

Raelyn didn't flinch. "If the elves can protect us, they can protect them too. I refuse to leave them behind. They took us in when they didn't have to. I won't repay that kindness with abandonment."

The room fell silent, the weight of their decision pressing down on them like a physical force. Hovan's shoulders sagged, and he sheathed his sword with a heavy sigh. "Fine," he muttered. "But if they're coming, we move fast. No delays."

Massah, sensing the urgency of the moment, bowed hastily. "Massah go now. Too dangerous to stay. But white-haired girl... be careful."

Before anyone could respond, the imp scurried back to the window, slipping out into the night with surprising agility. His small form disappeared into the shadows, leaving only the faint rustle of leaves behind.

Raelyn exhaled slowly, her grip on the locket tightening as she turned back to Hovan. "We have to wake them and explain everything. They deserve the chance to protect themselves."

Hovan nodded reluctantly, his expression grim. "Let's hope they'll listen. We don't have time to argue."

Raelyn glanced toward the forest, its dark expanse looming ominously in the distance. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but she knew one thing for certain—she wouldn't leave anyone behind. Not now. Not ever.