ã€ŠAmaranth&#xE9;aã€‹


 Prologue - Pen and Parchment

    Shadows danced upon the wall in intricate movements, fleeting and flickering in unison with the undulating stirs of torchlight. The fiery motions threw a mirage of indecipherable stories on the stone. Written with intangible allure, they spoke of merriment and madness. They spoke mutely of the highest hopes and of deepest despair.

    Iridescent moonlight streamed through the windows, bathing the hallway in gentle azure light, each ray a bane of darkness. The soft blue of the moon and the harsh red of each torch mingled and fought, telling their own struggling stories against the swallowing tide of black.

    Silence permeated each story.

    Amidst the scene of light and dark, a forlorn figure stepped in and disturbed the narrative. Rhythmic footfalls announced the newcomer¡¯s appearance, puncturing the quiet like solitary notes on a soundless score. The walls echoed with ancient riddles and old secrets, but they also rang with the noise of more recent battles, fresher wounds.

    Soft words rose to fill the hollow in between.

    When lovers¡¯ stars shall meet in sweet embrace

    And sky above shall greet earth with a kissUnauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    If distant lands shall quake with great unrest

    Should dragons rise in mirth from the abyss

    All this shall fail to pierce my love professed

    So flee the day and fill the night with grace

    The voice that stirred the silence and tamed the clashes sang sweeter than honey, softer than silk, yet it rang drear and distant, panged by bitter sorrow. The light shone upon silver hair, but the stranger¡¯s mien could not be discerned. A cowl hid the figure¡¯s face, as though the shadowy commotion had once more become oppressive and deafening, re-forming when the music faded.

    In truth, no ballad or song could soothe the anguish that seemed to have settled into the very bones of the earth and the voice of the wind. It was as if the ground had become harder and the air heavier. It was as if the force of life struggled to flow and fly in every living thing, like a river choked and dammed by stifling stones.

    Petrified and dense.

    Stagnant.

    The furtive stories woven restlessly in the fabric of daylight could not begin to tell of the burden that plagued this place. Every place, in fact.

    The figure reached their destination. A secluded desk lay illumined by a single candle and surrounded by a thousand tomes peering curiously from behind unseeing fog. The figure sat.

    The scars in the stone, the clash in the light, the heaviness in the air. All would be shaped into story.

    The world must never forget what happened.

    The writer took up pen and parchment.

 Map of Anardes

    A map of Anardes and the surrounding nations. Commissioned by the Steward Amaleron in the year 396 of the post-Monarchic Era. On display in the Hall of Records at Fara''ethar under the care of Master Arhavel.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Note the lack of cartographic detail in the depiction of the Eastern Nations. This is due to ongoing hostilities between Anardes and the East, and the resultant difficulty of surveryor access.

    Location of Sheneh-Adrani is conjectural.

 Chapter One - Shadows and Songs

    ¡®Anardes anardethameren, anda mitharanah nui em¨¦redeth dro fr¨¬r.¡¯

    These were the words of King Ulm¨¬r at his coronation, spoken in the Old Tongue to ease the suspicion of his detractors. To those wary of the Language of the Stars¡¯ influence, these words would give assurance of continuity with the perceived greatness of ages past. Scholars and sages both sought to understand the meaning of Ulm¨¬r¡¯s cryptic utterance. In the common Anarda?an language this was translated, ¡®The world will burn, unless we purge our enemies through fire.¡¯

    Perhaps the story of King Ulm¨¬r¡¯s ascendance may shed light on these mysterious words. But know this: whatever sense may be given to these senseless events, whatever understanding may be gleaned from unfathomable darkness, let the reader be warned at the outset that history does not comfort.

    Here follows, then, an orderly account of the man who ruined the world.

    Before Ulm¨¬r, the land of Anardes had been a collection of disparate states ruled by local leaders. These states enjoyed relative prosperity and peace, under which localities traded goods and services without fear of persecution or invasion. While differences in culture between states occasionally erupted into disputes, the Anarda?an people continued to develop socially and economically.

    However, the rise in power of two nearby nations¡ªKerena and Senhia¡ªposed a threat to the flourishing states of Anardes. The Kerenani and Senh¨¬ are seafaring peoples who settled on the large island west of Anardes, having fled a disaster they would not speak of. After a time. the Kerenani became displeased with their southern share of the island, steeped as it was in a seemingly endless winter. The Senh¨¬, in turn, grew tired of their rain-soaked lands and likewise desired the rich pastures, fertile plains, and sunny forests of Anardes. Skirmishes on the western shores of the country by invading Kerenani and Senh¨¬an armies caused panics and disruptions in the livelihood of the Anarda?an people. What the Kerenani and Senh¨¬ lacked in diplomacy and sophistication, they made up for in might. Superior military tactics and weaponry posed a real problem to the simpler lifestyles of Anardes.

    The growing threat pushed the diverse Anarda?an states to consider their commonalities. Survival (and the mutual interest in the business of coin) is a great deterrent to petty squabbles and internal strife. There was a push for uniformity in leadership and unity in military force. The clamour for leadership¡ªperhaps a king might rally our nation and overthrow our enemies¡ªoutdid the attempt of the local landlords to hold on to their limited sovereignty.

    It was at this time that the Nodir¨¬m came. The ¡®Elders,¡¯ as they were to be called, appeared as if from nowhere. They walked in the splendour of starlight and spoke with the magic of moonlight. Their steps were beauty and creativity. Their words were wisdom and life.

    Nobody knows for certain who the Elders are or where they came from. Some say the stars themselves¡ªwhich many believe to be the source of life¡ªtook on human form and walked in Anardes to save the nation from its plight. Others claim they are long-forgotten heroes of old, who returned having transcended the limitations of the grave.

    In any case, their mastery over the force of life was undeniable. Their songs could bind or heal. Their speech could convince and persuade with a force unlike any ordinary man or woman. When they fought, their weapons exuded the same aura and energy. It was as though the Elders held the secrets of the workings of life itself and could bend and shape that energy to their will. Some say the Elders are ageless and immortal, though they themselves would deny being unaffected by the agonising decay of time and creeping shadow of death. Understandably, direct answers must be deferred and are at any rate beyond the scope of this present work.

    But it was not the Elders themselves who would deliver Anardes. They came in all their wisdom to propose a plan. The Elders would raise up, train, and support an Anarda?an king. They did not want the nation to unduly rely on them, but desired to find strength and potential in Anardes itself. The Elders would act as counsellors, advisors, mentors, commanders, and leaders but would only support the rule of the one to come and subordinate themselves to him.

    Thus was formed the Council of Ten¡ªfor ten Elders appeared from beyond the starlit skies¡ªand thus began the search for Anardes¡¯ deliverer. The Council could not leave matters regarding the weakening western frontier of Anardes unresolved while this search was underway. A great fortress was built on the mighty cliffs overlooking the Western Bay. It was named Fara¡¯ethar, the ¡®Lion¡¯s Mane,¡¯ for it would prove to be a symbol of the nation¡¯s nascent might and influence. It was decided also that when the king would be found, he would take up his throne in this fortress.

    At this time, the Ten Elders also began to teach the people many things. The speculative schools of philosophy and logic, the artistic elements of music, poetry, and craft, the tactical arrangements of warfare, the practical workings of construction and manufacture, and the mystical workings of life and language; these were all taught to an eager people awaiting their king.

    It was Hadar, the mightiest of the Ten, who discovered a young and orphaned Ulm¨¬r. A man of twenty years, Ulm¨¬r met the Elder Hadar on the streets of a town now lost. Their meeting, however, has passed into legend. A journal entry from Ulm¨¬r¡¯s own pen reveals the fateful encounter of the two. This author would apologise for the king¡¯s style, but in the interest of chronicling events, relevant witnesses should be left unaltered. The entry proceeds thusly:

    ¡®I was running. Running from Kerenani mercenaries that had overrun my home. As an orphan, I did not know nor care to know the business of the important folk. The wealthy did not concern themselves with outcasts and orphans. I lived out of sight and out of mind. Living independently with a small band of friends and fellow rejects, the wider town was only a source of food and shelter, clandestinely acquired, of course. It did not matter to me. I hated the outside world, hated its greedy, selfish people. They were my enemies. I was happy to live in hidden holes and secret shacks with those few I trusted.

    Yet on this day, my independence paid a terrible price. For when the Kerenani attacked, the band of orphans was unaware. No one told us to run. No one cared to lead us to safety. And so, when I had emerged to restock our supply of food, I saw only the empty streets and ransacked houses. I saw only the cold, menacing eyes of Kerenani warriors staring back into my hungry, gaunt face as they rummaged through the town¡¯s resources.

    I screamed. Not out of fear for myself, but for my friends. I had unwittingly drawn the attention of the murderous Kerenani to the only people I had cared about in my life. Funny-faced Shem, confident Meloh, and the sickly Retela. All of them were in danger. Descending into our hidey-hole, I shouted at my friends to flee. Retela had to be carried, so I held her in my arms and ran.

    The chase was a blur. The footfalls of the Kerenani drew closer. As I ran through the streets, I heard my friends¡¯ screams. Meloh fell first. Three Kerenani marauders caught up to him and ended his life. Shem fared no better. As he looked back at his pursuers, a spearman caught him from the front.

    I was running. My tears flowed freely and obscured my vision. With Retela in my arms, I knew they would catch me. But I would not let go. I hated the Kerenani, hated everyone and everything. Her alone did I love. As I collapsed from exhaustion, I looked at her again. She seemed to be sleeping. Her pale face showed no awareness of our impending death. In all the madness and chaos, she was the most beautiful thing in the entire world to me.

    I set her down and then looked at the approaching mercenaries. An uncontrollable rage fell over me and I arose with a determination I had never experienced before. Yelling at the top of my lungs, I rushed at my attackers. I thought of Shem and Meloh. I thought of Retela above all.

    The Kerenani soldiers hesitated for a second as they saw me charging, bloodlusted and angry. That was their fatal mistake. With speed and strength unknown to me, I disarmed the first Kerenani soldier and thrust him through with his own sword. Before the other four realised what was happening, the cold touch of steel met their warm flesh.

    The street ran red with Kerenani blood. I collapsed, exhausted. Tears and blood clouded my sight. I looked over to where Retela was laid down and saw a blurry figure. This one was different. He seemed to be a man, yet he appeared to be covered in majestic light. This man was not dressed in the fur and leather of the Kerenani, and he did not have their foul gaze. I felt a strange peace emanating from the figure. Yet I knew, somehow, that this peace masked a terrifying authority and power.

    Before I could process my thoughts, footsteps and voices behind me announced the arrival of more Kerenani troops. I looked at them in despair and helplessness. Breathless and cold, I could do nothing as they drew closer. I clutched to my hatred and bitterness. As their spears and swords approached me, I felt myself fall into the warm arms of unconsciousness. The last images I saw were of a flurry of weapons and a furious, gleaming blade of white that devoured the darkness.

    When I came to, I found myself in a different place, with a warm fire and a meal prepared for me. The stranger was watching over me. I rose with a start and inquired about Retela. Was she safe? Until I found that out, no warmth of fire or pleasure of food could satisfy me. The stranger calmed me down and pointed over to a makeshift shelter where the girl was sleeping.

    I sighed and sunk lower into my bedding. The relief of seeing Retela was overshadowed by the flood of painful memory. I remembered the screams of my friends and the frenzy of my assailants.

    Then, the mysterious man stood up and spoke with a voice like starlight. Noticing a white blade carved with strange runes strapped to the man¡¯s side, I realised that the storm of swords I had dreamily seen in my last moments of consciousness earlier had been real.

    ¡®What is your name?¡¯ the stranger asked me.

    ¡®Ulm¨¬r,¡¯ I replied hesitantly.

    ¡®Young cub, I have seen your rage. I have seen your courage. And I have seen your love. In you is the power to lead nations and overthrow armies. By your might, deliverance will be achieved and destruction dealt. Your affection will bring blessings to all people. But your strength could lead to the rending of the world. I ask that you allow me to train and teach you to be a leader to the Anarda?an people. You have lived a life of isolation and ignorance. You despise the world, and much there is to lament indeed. But there is much good also. There is beauty and love which is worth defending. I ask that you take your stand, lead a falling people, and protect what is threatened.¡¯

    ¡®Who are you?¡¯ I asked at last.

    ¡®I am Hadar of the Ten. I am here to bring the king to his people. I am to turn the wolf into a lion.¡¯¡¯

    It is said that when Hadar and Ulm¨¬r met, the force of life itself quaked in anticipation and trembled in delight. The uncounted years and immeasurable strength of the Elder met the boundless courage and unwavering love of Youth.

    And so Hadar brought Ulm¨¬r before the Council of Ten and presented him as the king-to-be. The other members of the Council unanimously praised Hadar¡¯s decision and accepted Ulm¨¬r. The people rejoiced and the preparations began.

    For two years, Hadar trained Ulm¨¬r in the arts of combat and leadership, in warfare and in diplomacy. Ulm¨¬r matured in wisdom and in strength. His potential was immense and his growth unsurpassed. Ulm¨¬r¡¯s lifeforce seemed immeasurable as he excelled in every aspect of his training. Hadar himself was surprised at the young man¡¯s development.

    In all this, Ulm¨¬r never forgot about Retela. Though he had trained alone with Hadar, he had asked that Retela join him in his new life. She would wait and prepare to be his Queen. The thought of her kept Ulm¨¬r going during his training, and was the reason for sudden bursts of boldness and power, as had been the case long ago. She would wait for him to return as king.

    At length, the day of the coronation approached. A great festival was held at Fara¡¯ethar. The Hall of the Elders, the great central chamber in the castle, was decorated and prepared to host this monumental event. Artisans and artists littered the streets at the entrance to the castle and celebrated the arrival of Ulm¨¬r. Dancers and musicians raised up song and incited joyous movements.

    Ulm¨¬r arrived astride a magnificent horse with Retela at his side, followed by the Ten Elders and a great company of soldiers who would become the palace guard. As they passed the Lion Gate and strode through the street, voices and instruments mingled and filled the air. The people welcomed their king.

    In the Hall of the Elders, the Council presented Ulm¨¬r and Retela before the people. They gave their blessing and sung a song celebrating the new era Anardes would enter into. Ulm¨¬r comported himself with grace and wisdom, and his speech of accession alleviated any remaining doubts or wariness regarding his rule.

    Finally, the Elders stepped forward and each in turn blessed the royal couple. Hadar brought out the Blood Crown, a circlet forged from the red dust of the earth and the blue light of the sky. It was to be a reminder that the king was a man. While the starlight was a memoir of the Elders¡¯ help, it was man, made of flesh and blood, who reigned. It was a man who was responsible for the deliverance of Anardes. And indeed, it was a man who became the undoing of us all.

    It is difficult, with hindsight, not to pass judgment and declare Ulm¨¬r¡¯s behaviour a veneer hiding an insidious reality. Perhaps the king¡¯s petulant tone, inflated sense of grandeur, and the attempted eloquence exhibited by his personal entries, all betrayed symptoms of a darker truth. Ulm¨¬r¡¯s speech would prove terribly prophetic, and it would not simply be his enemies who bore the cost.

    It is equally hard not to bemoan how fallible even those of starlight proved to be and lament how late the Elders responded to what transpired.

    How much could have been different?

    No profit comes from such endless speculation, so we press on.

    Ulm¨¬r¡¯s reign was prosperous. Under his and Retela¡¯s leadership, Anardes grew into a vast, unified nation. With the support of the Council of Ten, Ulm¨¬r developed means of extracting rich resources from the earth. The crafts of forging and masonry improved, and great articles of gold, silver, and precious stones were created, increasing the nation¡¯s wealth.

    It was not only Anardes¡¯ riches that grew, however. Weapons and armour were developed as Ulm¨¬r built up the military might of Anardes. The ongoing threat of the Kerenani and Senh¨¬an forces was met with the conscription and training of soldiers. Under Ulm¨¬r, warfare would become the lifeblood of Anardes.

    In battle, King Ulm¨¬r was unmatched. None could withstand his strength and influence. Ulm¨¬r wore victory like a garment. He conquered surrounding territories and expanded Anardes¡¯ borders. The Kerenani and Senh¨¬an invaders were driven off the western coast forever. Not content with this, the king constructed great ships of precious wood and emblazoned their sails with the Lion of Anardes. His fleets traversed the divide and so Ulm¨¬r brought the battle to the shores of Senhia and Kerena.

    Much blood was shed in that conquest, but Ulm¨¬r, unfazed, emerged victorious. Much more blood would have been shed, had not the Council advised Ulm¨¬r that a diplomatic solution would be more beneficial to Anardes. Senhia and Kerena were annexed into the territory of Anardes and came under Ulm¨¬r¡¯s rule. Hadar, who had reluctantly agreed to teach him the art of sailing, saw a glimpse of the young, bloodlusted Ulm¨¬r in those battles. The cub had grown into a lion indeed.

    Ulm¨¬r¡¯s success and his apparent invincibility in battle grew his pride. Honour had become hubris, as Ulm¨¬r¡¯s armies continue to push the boundaries of the kingdom. The king delighted in conquest and relished in his strength. He was no longer the young man who could not keep his friends from dying. It seemed as if the Lion could truly control everything.

    But Ulm¨¬r was not only a warrior. He was a father and a husband also. He loved Queen Retela dearly. Three children were born to him. The firstborn, a daughter named Ed¨¦ri?l. The second, a son called Elm¨¬r. And later, the third, a daughter by the name of Ereden.

    Ed¨¦ri?l was a lover of books, music, and learning from her youth. Elm¨¬r took after his father. He was a courageous boy who loved playing with swords. On his third birthday, his father had made him a beautiful wooden blade, light and swift. As for Ereden, Retela had hopes that she would grow into a wise woman who would manage the commercial dealings of Anardes.

    Yes, and I am sure she would have...

    For all his faults, in his family life Ulm¨¬r proved that he could be pleasant and gentle. His kind demeanour toward his family and his subjects stood in marked contrast with the determined and forceful Ulm¨¬r who fought on the battlefield. Even this writer cannot deny Anardes benefitted greatly from having a leader who could manage the harsh matters of warfare and the sensitive goings-on of running a kingdom.

    The pleasant dream, however, shattered as quickly as it had come. Anardes¡¯ golden age proved to be fleeting. Its splendour and majesty were evanescent, as Ulm¨¬r drove the nation, and the world, to its knees.

    In the seventeenth year of his reign, King Ulm¨¬r was struck by tragedy. Whatever sickness ailed Retela in her youth returned. The Queen lay bedridden for five painful months. No medicine, no wisdom, no Eldersong could heal her. The inexorable power of death held sway over Retela and no force of life could stop the pull of the abyss.

    No starlight was to be seen at her funeral. The skies themselves wept for Retela, as the forests sighed their song of mourning and the seas lamented in unison. A darkness came over Anardes that signalled a change in the times and a change in Ulm¨¬r.

    The king¡¯s heart, blackened with pride in his absolute power, ran into the reality of death. His powerlessness in the face of death ate away at him like a poison. Something snapped inside Ulm¨¬r as he realised there are enemies greater than his ability to conquer. He spiralled into grief and madness. He bemoaned his lack of power and his dogged refusal to accept the natural order led the world to the brink of destruction.

    Hadar tried to comfort Ulm¨¬r, but what before were soothing words of starlight now sounded harsh and shrill.

    ¡®My king, you grieve the loss of your beloved because of death¡¯s bitter truth. There are some forces over which even the Nodir¨¬m have no control. Even kings stand powerless before the dark gates of death. But there is perhaps wisdom here to strengthen you. For we Nodir¨¬m have greater sight into the workings of life, though we do not understand all its complexity. But there is a world beyond the abyss. We have caught glimpses of a land wherein the departed dwell. Hints and whispers from the stars tell of a great coming Day when what is here and what is lost shall be united once again.¡¯

    Ulm¨¬r¡¯s grief prevented him from accepting his friend¡¯s condolences. Indeed, some dark design had brewed in the recesses of Ulm¨¬r¡¯s mind. Hadar¡¯s words had sparked a pride yet greater than any act of arrogance before.

    ¡®Then I will bring that Day by my own power,¡¯ Ulm¨¬r said.

    Not much is known about Ulm¨¬r¡¯s activities in the few years following the death of Retela, for the king often spent time in solitude, poring over amassed scrolls of wisdom and books of knowledge. The king neglected his duties in order to devote time to research. A single entry in Ulm¨¬r¡¯s journal provides a glimpse of his quest at this time. This last entry is mercifully brief, even if no less presumptuous:

    ¡®I search for that which cannot be found. I seek that which is beyond my reach. As far as the stars above are from the dust below, so the answer to this riddle is kept from me. But I will search the void and grasp the ungraspable. I will descend the depths of the abyss and bring up the unattainable.¡¯

    Reports speak of esoteric rituals and enchantments as Ulm¨¬r left no stone unturned in his quest for control over the most basic forces of life and death. Ulm¨¬r delved into the mysteries of lifeforce, seeking a power greater than that offered or possessed by the Elders. The Council attempted to halt this mad venture, but Ulm¨¬r would not listen. His pride and desire for absolute power and control had consumed the remnants of the once noble man who ruled Anardes. Or is it that nobility had never truly been there, and now long-dormant vices had surfaced?

    Ulm¨¬r¡¯s dabbling gave birth to the greatest calamity the world has ever known. In his search for strength, Ulm¨¬r awoke something impossibly ancient, something infinitely powerful, and gave it shape. The Worldender had come. No soul can tell what dark covenant bound Ulm¨¬r to the dragon beast brought forth from his search. It was as if death itself was embodied in the hideous form of a shadowed firedrake.

    With this beast of blackened starlight under his control, the Dragonking had arrived. Ulm¨¬r took for himself a new name: Drofulm¨¬r. His madness was complete. No shred of conscience remained. No affection or love for the things of the world could be found in Drofulm¨¬r. He retained only a lust for dominion and control over life. With a sword forged from the dragon¡¯s teeth, Drofulm¨¬r declared war on all life. All who did not bow were his enemies. All would come under his reign.

    For no solace was to be found in death. Seizing control of the Worldender did not bring Retela back. This force of death did not preserve beauty or protect his people. Misery and ruin befell the world. Drofulm¨¬r, a slave to his own mad desire, would have ended all life had the Council not intervened.

    So great was the destruction wrought by Drofulm¨¬r, so great was the devastation brought on by the Worldender, that the world itself sundered. Anardes quaked and cracked, the land becoming unstable and shifting irreparably. The westernmost portion of Anardes was rent from the mainland and flung into the sky, as the lifeforce of the world itself was thrown into turmoil. An endlessly deep scar in the sea was left in its place. Senhia and Kerena were driven even farther from Anardes. The lands to the north and east were forever cut off by immense fissures in the seas. The south collapsed entirely and was swallowed by raging oceans and the gaping abyss.

    In this chaos, the Council of Ten took its stand against the Dragonking. Hadar, particularly, grieved deeply over Ulm¨¬r¡¯s descent into evil. But the friendship they had shared could not swerve him from carrying out the duty of protecting the world, protecting life itself. The Ten rallied the brave and willing and assembled a force to hold back those who had fallen to Drofulm¨¬r¡¯s influence. It was a dark day when the Elders were forced to oppose the very one they had nurtured.

    I remember that day well.

    On the fields before Fara¡¯ethar, the Council made its assault. The Elders led the charge with all the strength they could muster. Many fell to Drofulm¨¬r¡¯s forces. Many more were taken by the Worldender. The Ten pushed through to the Hall of the Elders where Drofulm¨¬r had presumed to take his throne over the entire world. With the Blood Crown upon his head, the red and blue now pierced with grey, the king looked down in arrogance at his former friends and mentors.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    Hadar drew his white blade, gleaming with the force of a thousand stars now that his full lifeforce was committed to battle. A look of recognition passed Drofulm¨¬r¡¯s face, and he unsheathed his own shadowy sword. It looked alive, as it cut the air with a thousand shades of black. Life itself seemed to crumble and fade around it.

    Drofulm¨¬r fixed his onyx eyes on Hadar and spoke in a voice like deep shadows.

    ¡®On this day I take my place as rightful ruler of all life and conqueror of death, Hadar. Stars and streams, skies and seas, all will bow down to me. But there yet remains to deal with the enemies who held me back. For I have found a shadow that burns brighter than all the starlight you can muster, a darkness that cuts deeper than the piercing light of the sun. Come, let this end here.¡¯

    For the final time, Elder met Youth, starlight against the void. Hadar himself led the Ten in combat against the Dragonking himself on that fateful day. It is said that each clash of their blades further scarred the lifeforce of the world. The land rocked and reeled as steel met bone and light faced darkness.

    Then a roar like a halted song encompassed all. The Worldender had joined the fray. With Hadar occupied, the other Elders held the Worldender at bay as it swooped the castle weaving through spears of light and spewing black flame. At once, they shielded those who were still fighting in the castle grounds and attempted their own offensive against the winged beast.

    But the battle was not to be won by crashing swords, for the combined effort of the Ten could not hinder the monster that Ulm¨¬r had become. The wolf had become a dragon. His command over the forces of life and death and his mastery of weaponry could not be overcome. Ulm¨¬r would win and have dominion over all things. His shadow would encompass and swallow the world. The Worldender would devour all life and leave a kingdom of death and decay in its wake.

    So in this last, desperate hour, the Council of Ten put one final plan into motion. Since the Dragonking could not be destroyed, the Elders poured their lifeforce into a song of sealing. The Elders¡¯ strength would diminish, but the energy of their song would bind the Dragonking and restrain the Worldender. What straining blades could not achieve their voices would attempt. And so the Nodir¨¬m began to sing,

    A king to whom all splendored nations turn¡ª

    <hr>

    ¡®Are you still reading those old stories?¡¯ called a voice like icy winter from somewhere on the deck of a boat. It came muffled at first, but then cut through the immersive embrace of the story with cold clarity.

    Asphales set down the book. His friend¡¯s call had snapped him back to reality, back to the gentle lapping of the waves and the rhythmic bobbing of the fishing vessel on the sea. The salty smell of seawater and the pungent odour of fish returned and dispelled the mirage of ancient tales and forgotten heroes.

    The sun hung low in the sky, casting its golden light onto the surface of the Silent Sea. The light splintered into a thousand glistening shards on the water, and for a second Asphales recalled Hadar¡¯s sword of pure white light.

    Asphales ran his hands along the book¡¯s cover, well-worn with use, and looked at his friend, whose piercing topaz gaze was still fixed on him. ¡®These old stories are precious to me, Valinos,¡¯ he said defensively, his voice like the summer breeze.

    ¡®Well, I wish you¡¯d stop filling your head with them and get back to work,¡¯ replied Valinos. ¡®Come on, fisherman. Help the crew with their catch. We¡¯ll be back in Silnod¨¬r by sunset.¡¯ His eyes were stern. Expectant.

    Complying with his friend¡¯s request, Asphales placed the velvet-bound volume in his bag, stashed it near the cabin, and stood up to offer his help. Men moved laboriously about the boat, checking the rigging, working the nets, and setting the sails. Their movements were rough as nails, but efficient as clinking cogs. They heaved and spat and swore and lifted, the captain more than most.

    Asphales was not a fisherman by nature, but his love of the sea often drew him to seek passage on fishing trips and expeditions. It was a love instilled in him by his father, who many years ago taught him the ways of the sea and the managing of ships before disappearing while on a voyage. There was a storm. A wreck. A pained memory.

    Where do you go, father? When are you coming back to me?

    But today was not a day for remembering. It was not a dark day. It was a day for work and labour. It was a day for dreaming. For even that tragedy did not deter Asphales, and now a man of twenty-three, he knew the northern coast of Anardes as well as any fisherman or sailor worth his salt. But not owning a vessel of his own meant he had to content himself with the travels of others, offering his help and expertise in exchange for the chance to kindle his love of the sea. The seas uncharted by the seamen of Silnod¨¬r were a distant, unattainable dream.

    Asphales would have loved nothing more than to acquire his own vessel and sail beyond the Dragon¡¯s Horn in the west, where the Silent Sea met the unknown expanse of oceans unmapped. Tales said those waters were cursed with unnatural tempests and sea monsters. He dreamt of travelling south as well, past the forests and mountains and into the seas that surely laid there, waters travelled by Kerenani and Senh¨¬an invaders in an age long gone. Asphales wanted to see if the world was truly fragmented because of Ulm¨¬r¡¯s madness. He wanted to know if the stories were true.

    But the reality was Asphales simply could not afford his fantasies. For though the docks of Silnod¨¬r were lucrative enough, trading not merely in fish and stock but also in ships, Asphales did not earn enough coin on his ventures but to pay for necessities. His dreams were confined within the covers of a book.

    Losing his father to the sea was painful, but when his mother, too, mysteriously vanished not long after, it made living very difficult. The generosity and hospitality of the village had depleted by the time Asphales had come of age and so he tried to drown that pain in the necessary work paying for his food and shelter.

    But Asphales could not sever dream from memory. Even as he worked, even as he went about the mindless task of minding the nets, they came. Even as he dreamt nebulously of a day when he would sail on his own, they came. Like the endless tide, the memories returned. They always did. Sometimes they came as a gentle surf that slipped beneath his feet and swept him out before he was even aware he treaded water. Other times they rushed as crashing waves and dashed him against jagged cliffs, cruel and callous.

    No. He reminded himself it was not a day for remembering. He gazed across the vessel to his friend. Valinos was assisting a burly fellow to secure the rigging. Asphales smiled. The toned arms of a smithy were a great boon for the manual tasks.

    Valinos was Asphales¡¯ only companion, who was alike to him only in the shared tragedy of having lost his parents. But whereas for Asphales that was a childhood wound, a pain felt since the confusion and questioning of his early years, Valinos had never known his father and mother. The residents of Silnod¨¬r remembered only that an infant suddenly appeared in the village, apparently left by travellers or nomads.

    Disillusioned with idealistic stories and fantasies, Valinos grew up without the guidance of parents and the warmth of family. Asphales knew his own cheerful optimism and infatuation with heroism irked him. He knew Valinos had no love for his love of tales. He deemed his dreams foolish. But the two had nonetheless forged a friendship that more resembled a brotherhood. For all their differences, that is what Asphales held on to.

    Valinos walked over, seeming not entirely pleased. ¡®Fallen asleep on the job again, friend?¡¯ he asked.

    Asphales realised he had left the nets hanging for some time.

    ¡®Can¡¯t even leave a fisherman to a fisherman¡¯s task,¡¯ Valinos quipped with a sly smile. He added his hands to the nets.

    As Asphales and Valinos finished managing the large catch of fish and the vessel sailed south, the docks of Silnod¨¬r came into view. Hemmed by the rocky wastes culminating in the Dragon¡¯s Horn to the west and the beginning of the snow-capped Undorn Range to the east, Silnod¨¬r was a bustling, lively town in the midst of inhospitable barrenness at the end of the Imperial Road.

    Its folk were peaceful and hardworking, preferring the practical trades of the hand rather than the speculative exercises of the mind. But whereas one would not go to Silnod¨¬r to ask esoteric questions regarding the nature of dust and starlight, its abundance in skilled craftsmen of all kinds, fishermen, miners, traders, builders, and armourers was second only to the capital itself. That is what Asphales had always heard, anyway.

    As Asphales and Valinos returned home, a familiar sight greeted them. Sunset announced the end of day with its array of orange flames. The stalls and stands of the dock markets bustled with activity, every seller and trader hurrying to make business while the light lasted. The accustomed cacophony of business railed against the oncoming mellowness of night. The gentle breeze brought the usual aroma of baked goods, dried meats, fresh oil and spices, and the less appetising odours of newly hewn stone, cut wood, tanned leather, and tempered steel, and mixed them with the ever-present smell of fish.

    Other fishing ships had already returned from their voyages, swaying tenderly in the docks by the dozens, their masts casting long finger-shadows in the dying light. The newly returned vessel settled at an empty dock and cast its anchor, as the sailors and fishermen exited with their catch, eager to join the hustle and bustle of the markets. The captain waved angrily at the departing workers as Asphales stepped onto the planks and walked out onto the docks. The captain was always angry, Asphales realised. He could not imagine why. He smiled.

    Asphales and Valinos carried their share of the load and joined the commotion, passing through hordes of people in the waning light. The net on their shoulders sagged with the weight of fish. The stares and smiles of the market-goers indicated that it was a good catch indeed. But Asphales caught something else in their gazes as well, barely detectable behind their good-natured faces. Something he knew too well. He lowered his eyes. A particularly eager, bright-faced fisherman came forward and complimented the pair. Attired in a simple tunic colourless with use, he comfortably suited the ragged thing like only a seaman could.

    ¡®Ah, mighty fine catch tha¡¯ is,¡¯ he said. ¡®Heavens know we nee¡¯ it at a time like this.¡¯

    Asphales turned to him and smiled, fixing his jasper eyes on the fisherman with delight.

    ¡®We¡¯re glad to do our part in feeding the town, Turos.¡¯

    ¡®Aye, an¡¯ a good thing too. With the farms in the south goin¡¯ the way they are, it¡¯s fishin¡¯ that will put food on the table, mark me words,¡¯ Turos said dramatically. ¡®Don¡¯t listen to what my brother Turon says, ye better get use¡¯ to the taste o¡¯ fish.¡¯

    ¡®Right. Well, the town will do well with you in charge of the fishing, Turos,¡¯ said Asphales. ¡®We need all the experience we can muster these days. Pity we didn¡¯t sail together today.¡¯

    ¡®Right you are, boy,¡¯ Turos said proudly. ¡®We gon¡¯ nee¡¯ to look out fer ourselves here. The south ain¡¯t safe no more. There¡¯s talk o¡¯ bandits and robbers, there is. I know there¡¯s no king an¡¯ all, but it¡¯d be nice if the Empire paid attention to our lands way out here.¡¯ For a moment Turos looked his age, each wrinkle telling a story of worry and perseverance, his eyes speaking of hardship and persistence. ¡®It¡¯s probably nothin¡¯ big, but if it were Kerenani¡ª¡¯

    ¡®We¡¯d best be on our way, Turos,¡¯ interrupted Valinos. ¡®Thank you for the news.¡¯ He turned coldly and dragged the net, signalling for Asphales to come.

    ¡®Have a good evening, Turos,¡¯ said Asphales, surprised at first but compliant with Valinos¡¯ desire to leave. It did not take him long to understand. Valinos was afraid the mention of the Kerenani would spark his imagination once more. He probably did not fancy another hour-long conversation about the legendary sea-raiders. The Kerenani should be left to proverbs and children¡¯s stories. To foolish tales and histories.

    ¡®Oh, alrigh¡¯ then,¡¯ Turos said. ¡®See you, lads. Turon will be just ahead, awaitin¡¯ your catch. May the sea keep watch¡­¡¯ he droned, beginning a traditional fisherman¡¯s benediction.

    ¡®¡­and the fish taste sweet as the winds find your sail,¡¯ finished Asphales, knowing the correct response.

    Turos began to hum a fisherman¡¯s tune with his usual cheeriness and disappeared in the crowd as Asphales and Valinos turned to drop off the fish and receive their pay. Going further near town, they found Turon¡¯s stall. Unlike the open-aired stalls of the markets, Turon housed his place of business in a shack; closed from the outside, save for a small wooden door on the side.

    As Asphales and Valinos stepped inside, the sounds of the marketplace died and were replaced by a silence punctured only by the quiet crackling of flame. The several torches on the wall were the only source of light inside, but they proved brighter than the dying day outside. The place had the stiffness of formality and business about it, a trait shared by the owner who sat buried in ledgers and papers behind a mahogany counter.

    Turon, alike to Turos only in looks, was a man of few words and fewer smiles. A baker by nature, but with skill in the arts of commerce and trade, Turon handled the business side of Turos¡¯ fishing ventures in Silnod¨¬r. On this fine Kingsdell evening Turon wore his most business-like expression. No hint of flour or yeast adorned the man, and instead of the harsh baker¡¯s apron Turon sported a silken doublet of black and silver.

    Asphales and Valinos placed the fishnet down onto some rags with a satisfying thump. The man behind the counter took no notice, but shuffled a few papers around and reached for a quill pen. The sudden sound of the net only heightened the growing quiet. Turon continued scribbling in a ledger before bringing out a leather bag.

    ¡®Any news, Turon?¡¯ asked Asphales, hoping to break the awkward silence with conversation. He rubbed his shoulders vacantly, relieved at the lightness which sunk in.

    Turon did not halt or even look up while counting out their coin. ¡®I hear talk of a brigade of Imperial guards nearing Silnod¨¬r. Their torches and banners have been spotted coming up the Imperial Road not one hour past.¡¯

    ¡®The Imperial Guard?¡¯ asked Asphales, almost squealing.

    ¡®Yes. Perhaps they have finally come to take you two undesirables away,¡¯ said Turon with unfeigned scorn.

    ¡®What do you¡ª¡¯ began Asphales but was interrupted by Turon. The businessman finally looked up and settled disdainful eyes on him.

    ¡®Look, I may pay you a fair wage for fair work, but it does not mean I enjoy your company or endorse your¡­ condition. Silnod¨¬r is a town built on noble trades run by reputable families,¡¯ said Turon, accenting the last word painfully. ¡®It is no place for vagabonds and the sons of deserters.¡¯

    A deep shadow fell over Asphales¡¯ face. Valinos, who had stood silent and composed, now lowered his head and began breathing audibly. The sting of Turon¡¯s words was obvious and deep.

    ¡®Especially him,¡¯ the businessman began.

    ¡®That¡¯s enough, Turon,¡¯ said Asphales. ¡®We get it.¡¯ Turon sniffed and returned to his ledger.

    ¡®Thank you for the pay.¡¯ Asphales snatched the money off the counter. Six iron dens and two silver shelehi. Enough coin to purchase necessities for at least a tide. But there came no comfort from the weighty feeling the sum garnered in his purse.

    He and Valinos quickly left the silence of Turon¡¯s lodging and its deceptively warm light, exiting into the cool breeze of evening and the sounds of life. The commotion of the markets had died down, and with stores and stall closing up for the night, the chatter and noise of the crowd had moved toward the residential part of Silnod¨¬r. The great path connecting the marketplace to the housing estates was now swarmed by people eager to return to their homes, coins in pocket and goods in hand.

    Most of the marketplace regulars and vendors themselves lived on the outskirts of the residential district, so as to minimise travel between home and work. Asphales and Valinos, however, stayed at the far south end of the village, near the Imperial Road itself and the Main Gate. A long walk awaited them, so as the two made off solemnly toward their home, faces downcast, Asphales attempted to revitalise conversation.

    ¡®Valinos, you worked well today,¡¯ he began. ¡®But I am confused. You hate fishing. You don¡¯t even like the sea. Why did you come along?¡¯

    Valinos lifted his face, his drooping black hair parting to reveal eyes shot with a pain Asphales knew was often felt. He looked up. The sky had darkened. Stars were beginning to dot the deepening expanse. Valinos eyed a great eagle circling the village in the twilight distance.

    ¡®You¡¯re right, I am not fond of the sea,¡¯ Valinos said. ¡®I prefer the freedom of the sky. But work is work and pay is pay. At least one of us has to earn the coin to maintain our home,¡¯ he added coolly, but with a subtle smile.

    Asphales was pleased to see the change in his friend¡¯s mood. Genuinely interested to find out more about Valinos¡¯ hitherto unknown love, he pressed further.

    ¡®What is it about the sky that draws you so?¡¯ he inquired.

    Valinos paused in thought. Asphales remembered the rare times of idleness when they would simply lie down and stare into the open sky or climb the rocks of the Dragon¡¯s Horn in order to somehow get closer to the heavens. Freedom. Had those moments begotten an unexpressed affection in Valinos?

    ¡®The sky is so mysterious, so unknown,¡¯ he began. ¡®The land has been explored. Its pathways are well known. Men have even made great ships to sail the seas. But who can claim to have soared to the heavens and delved into the deep storehouses of the expanse above?¡¯

    The great eagle above shrieked cheerfully, as if in response to Valinos¡¯ question.

    Asphales, surprised at his friend¡¯s sudden melancholic and poetic outburst, could not help but chuckle. ¡®I had not known you to have an affection for daydreams and fantasies, Valinos.¡¯

    ¡®If only I could reach it,¡¯ Valinos muttered, ignoring Asphales¡¯ comment. ¡®I could be far, far away from here.¡¯

    Asphales quietly gaped at his friend, awaiting elaboration. The two walked onward for some time before Valinos continued. Their path winded between wooden houses of indistinct shape and colour in the approaching night.

    Away from the chatter of the markets and with all other residents now returned to their homes, the path was empty. Their footfalls were the only sounds piercing the silence. Soon a symphony of crickets and other night insects joined the droning drumbeat of their footsteps.

    ¡®Asphales,¡¯ he said, ¡®I¡¯m sure you sense it as well. We don¡¯t belong here. You lost your family. I never knew mine. This town of Silnod¨¬r, with its structures of family and kin, doesn¡¯t welcome us. You can feel it behind their eyes, however openly they accept our labour.¡¯

    ¡®Valinos, don¡¯t let the bitter words of a baker cloud your judgment,¡¯ said Asphales. ¡®Silnod¨¬r is a well-meaning town, and I, for one, am grateful for it. We grew up here, we live here¡ª¡¯

    ¡®It¡¯s not just the baker!¡¯ snapped Valinos.

    Asphales squirmed uneasily. The sounds of the night died, as if in sudden fear of Valinos¡¯ outburst.

    ¡®It¡¯s not just the baker,¡¯ Valinos repeated, ¡®and you know it. You feel it too. You find your solace in the sea and in your books, while I¡­ Well, truth be told, I don¡¯t know what there is for me¡­¡¯

    ¡®Well, you¡¯re right about the book, Valinos,¡¯ said Asphales. ¡®The story does comfort me. Perhaps there is more to the world than fishing and smithing. More to be found than ships and swords and marketplaces. I know you don¡¯t like it, but maybe this book that I¡¯ve treasured all my life¡­ maybe it really tells of a great narrative in which we could find our place.¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t be foolish, Asphales,¡¯ Valinos retorted. ¡®The story is just that. A story. I grant you that it contains historical references. Everyone knows that Anardes was founded by King Ulm¨¬r over four hundred years ago.¡¯ He shrugged. ¡®Ulm¨¬r delivered the kingdom from the Kerenani and Senh¨¬an invaders. But all this talk of dragons, and lifeforce¡­ and Elders! It¡¯s a fable. What reputable author would so shamelessly mix history and myth?¡¯

    Asphales fell quiet. He felt the sting of his friend¡¯s words, mocking what was precious to him. He would never forget the day he found the book in his home. Heavy rain fell and the clouds obscured all light above Silnod¨¬r. The close and stifled air drowned even his heart in grey and black. Lightning alone occasioned evanescent rays of white. They lit through the melancholy and quickly disappeared. Raindrops covered the town in a gloomy shower of noise, permeated by the deep rumble of thunder.

    It had been the day that he had lost his mother, not long after the disappearance of his father at sea. Asphales, eleven years old at the time, woke one morning to her absence. No darkness that day could overshadow the blackness that had fallen on him; no heavenly downpour could overwhelm his tears; no deafening rain could drown out his calls. But it was on that day that he found the book in his room, lying in an open chest he had never seen before. In the dark and cold of his chamber, through tear-filled eyes and a lamp¡¯s weak light, he began to read.

    Asphales became aware of the book¡¯s weight in his bag. His thoughts wandered to the title, On the Reign of King Ulm¨¬r, and its enigmatic author, signalled only by the initials ¡®E.E.¡¯ All his life, Asphales could not shake the feeling that his parents had entrusted this volume to him, perhaps to relay a message that could not be delivered safely in the open. He could not help but feel the reason his father taught him the letters was to read this book.

    Beyond that, he could not remember much of his parents. His father¡¯s gleaming smile had all but faded, his name lost to the forgetfulness of time and the vagaries of Silnod¨¬r. His mother Thalassia was more vivid in his mind. Her voice wheeled like the stars above on the canvas of his memory, warm yet remote, radiant yet distant. But the only words she ever spoke now were the ones written neatly on the first page of the book. Her lovely cursive handwriting. Her final note. Her voice.

    Be brave, my little hero.

    The waves broke through. Asphales was struck by the weight of loneliness and the crushing pangs of loss. He clutched at his chest in a desperate attempt to alleviate the distance. It was not a day for remembering. It was not¡­

    The silence became heavy. Valinos, noticing the pain, regretted his words. ¡®I am sorry, my friend,¡¯ he apologised. ¡®I didn¡¯t mean to offend, but it is for your good that I say this. You don¡¯t belong there.¡¯

    ¡®Whatever you say,¡¯ Asphales offered weakly. ¡®But I will find the meaning of this book and the truth behind its story¡­ one day.¡¯

    The two friends walked the rest of the way without speaking, each deep in thought. Torches had sprung into life around them, the guiding flames indicating that night had truly fallen on Silnod¨¬r and the people prepared to rest before another day of busyness.

    Asphales and Valinos approached their lodgings, the Main Gate looming ominously in the evening darkness on their right. A turn into an alley near the gate would bring them to their home, but as they drew near they became aware of a commotion. Excited voices filled the air and the clanging of sticks sounded out. As the two turned the corner, the source of the surprising clamour revealed itself. Four children were busy at play near Asphales¡¯ home, looking to be rehearsing for a momentous battle. They were quite unaware of the settling lull and mellow of the night.

    Asphales announced his presence with a loud clear of his throat. The children turned, and when they saw who had arrived, their eyes lit up, and they ran towards Asphales. Clearly, they had been waiting for this moment. The sight of the children melted the gloominess Asphales had felt during the trip home.

    ¡®Asphales! Asphales!¡¯ they shouted, running cheerfully. ¡®We¡¯ve been waiting for you!¡¯

    Oblivious to the travellers¡¯ tiredness and the stench of fish, the children gathered around them. Asphales bent down on one knee to greet them. ¡®Indeed. I¡¯m sorry, I had quite forgotten.¡¯

    Valinos stood by and looked taken aback. ¡®Forgot about what?¡¯ he asked.

    Asphales winced. Valinos would surely not be pleased with what came next. Before he could offer an excuse, a voice spoke up.

    ¡®Asphales is going to play with us,¡¯ said Demin, a young boy of nine years. ¡®He¡¯s going to help us in the battle of the Ten Elders against the evil Ulm¨¬r.¡¯

    The other three children shouted in agreement. Valinos was flabbergasted. ¡®So, your foolish tales have found an audience, have they?¡¯ he asked his friend, annoyance barely hidden.

    ¡®They sure has,¡¯ came the eager reply from Aman, a boy of seven years, Demin¡¯s brother. ¡®Told us all about the Dragonking and his kingdom, about the Ten Elders and their powers.¡¯

    Asphales laughed. ¡®But I don¡¯t see ten of you,¡¯ he commented, pointing out the obvious shortcoming in actors.

    ¡®The others went home,¡¯ informed Renehos, the oldest child among them, a boy of eleven. ¡®We¡¯ll have to make do with who we have.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s why we will need all the help we can get,¡¯ offered Neansa, a girl ten years old. She turned gingerly to Valinos, whose disinterest would hopefully be dismantled by this loyal following. ¡®Will you join us?¡¯ she asked. ¡®Will you be Ulm¨¬r?¡¯

    ¡®Yeah, you¡¯ll be great!¡¯ cried Aman. ¡®You¡¯re scary like him, and Asphales said Ulm¨¬r had black hair too!¡¯

    Asphales turned to Valinos, afraid that he would take Aman¡¯s childish excitement as an insult and perhaps declare the whole affair foolish, but Valinos made no appearance of contempt. Instead, he knelt down beside them and with his usual cold smile said, ¡®Fine. I will be your Ulm¨¬r.¡¯

    Shouts of excitement arose from the four children. Asphales sighed quietly. A quick glance into Valinos¡¯ eyes¡ªkeen yet distant blue¡ªconfirmed his suspicion. This was Valinos¡¯ way of apologising for the harsh words earlier. Asphales nodded and smiled, then turned his attention back to the children.

    ¡®Well, there yet remain a few roles to be decided. Who will play Hadar the Mighty?¡¯ he asked, expecting a quarrel to break out over this most popular role.

    The answer was surprisingly unanimous. ¡®You will,¡¯ the four said in unison.¡¯ But Demin added, ¡®Only if you teach us the song tonight, like you promised.¡¯

    ¡®It will be my pleasure to be Hadar,¡¯ Asphales said proudly. ¡®And to teach you the song,¡¯ he added, noting their dissatisfaction.

    They laughed and cheered. Valinos shook his head and smiled. Asphales was glad to see the excitement at the prospect of playing heroes wear away at his hard edges. Even if he thought them forgotten and mythical, the children¡¯s energy was irresistible.

    Asphales stood up. ¡®What about you four?¡¯ he questioned.

    ¡®I want to play Seginus the Gallant,¡¯ said Renehos.

    ¡®I will take Deneb the Bold,¡¯ affirmed Demin.

    ¡®Be¨¬d the Cunning for me,¡¯ declared Aman.

    ¡®I want to be Izara the Fair,¡¯ Neansa said last of all.

    ¡®Fine choices, all of you,¡¯ said Asphales approvingly. ¡®Their starlight burned brightly in the fight against Ulm¨¬r.¡¯ Turning to Valinos, Asphales said, ¡®I hope you¡¯ve prepared yourself, Vali¡ªI mean, Ulm¨¬r. We shall not relent.¡¯

    With a shout, Asphales routed the children, who ran to where they had left branches and sticks in order to pick up instruments of war. Renehos, Demin, Aman, and Neansa took up their well-rehearsed positions. Asphales directed Valinos and instructed him as to where to stand and what to say. Valinos was lacking somewhat in enthusiasm for this charade but complied nonetheless. Asphales, too, positioned himself and gave the order for battle.

    Their shouts and cheers rose to break the night¡¯s silence. Asphales played a perfect Hadar, valiant and heroic. Valinos had trouble remembering Ulm¨¬r¡¯s lines but he pulled off the menacing voice well. The children carried out their roles with all the energy and captivated imagination of youth.

    Laughter filled the air. There was no chill, no evening stillness, only bliss and joy. For a moment, everything was perfect. Asphales and Valinos forgot the suspicious stares of the townspeople; they forgot Turon¡¯s jeers and the sinking feeling of despair. The fear of being aimlessly lost and not belonging were displaced by the happiness of the moment. Immersed in a world long gone, in the shoes of heroes now unknown, Asphales, Valinos, and the children escaped all the troubles and distress of Silnod¨¬r, with only the stars above as a silent audience.

    But just as Hadar and Ulm¨¬r were to clash their blades one last time, just as Seginus, Deneb, Be¨¬d, and Izara surrounded the Dragonking as the battle drew to a close, the illusion ended. Loud, rhythmical footfalls and the brightness of a dozen torches broke the spell. The story closed abruptly and the actors found themselves in their small seaside town again.

    Asphales turned to see a group of the Imperial Guard approaching, their unified march drumming against the quiet of the night. Starlight and torch flame glistened on their silver armour adorned with lion motifs. Their capes were ornamented with the Lion of Anardes, defiant roar captured in the smoothest scarlet silk.

    They entered the site where a dramatic battle had been enacted moments earlier, but the company¡¯s intimidating approach ended all playfulness. Their weapons of silver and steel, sharpened and glinting with moonlight, dwarfed the rough, brown wooden sticks carried by the children.

    An important-looking fellow broke rank and stepped forward. He was clad in identical armour as the rest save for a golden sash on his left shoulder-plate indicating his rank. Underneath his silver helmet, his deep-set eyes and firm nose could be seen. His broad, straight shoulders carried the air of officiality and seriousness.

    ¡®Hail, citizen,¡¯ he spoke gruffly. ¡®Ledner, a captain of the Imperial Guard, greets you in the name of Amaleron, Steward of the Blood Throne of Anardes.¡¯

    Asphales motioned for the children to scurry behind him. They dropped their makeshift weapons and hurried away.

    Asphales turned to the man who introduced himself as Ledner. ¡®Can I help you?¡¯ he asked apprehensively. ¡®Who are you looking for?¡¯

    ¡®Asphales Es¨¦linor,¡¯ came the sharp reply.

 Chapter Two - Sea Monsters and Dragons

    The sun rose over Luneder, painting yellow hues on the canvas of receding night. From beyond the sleepy forest of Gohenur the fire giant roused, splashing gold over vast tulip fields and illuminating row upon row arrayed in marvellous red and purple. A gentle summer breeze made the flower fields dance, rejoicing in the shower of light. The morning¡¯s bright deluge reflected off the glass-like surface of the Western Sea and conjured a brilliant golden mirror that enveloped the solitary settlement on its shores.

    A young girl was running through the meadows awash with colour, enjoying the dawn¡¯s spectacle of wind and fire. She was beautiful. Her scarlet curls danced in the wind. Her emerald eyes caught the radiant light with a lively, playful gleam. With a smile brighter than the oncoming day the girl ran toward her home in lithe and graceful movements.

    As she neared the edges of the village, she could see the lazy movements of residents barely awake being uncomfortably greeted by the brightness of the morning. The girl smiled to herself, proud that she had been up and about to greet the rising sun and had not been caught unprepared by the light. She wondered sadly how the villagers could miss the moment when the sun broke over the top of the trees of Gohenur and washed the land in gold. That moment was magic. But she loved her land, and she loved her home, her humble Luneder, hemmed between glassy seas and gleaming fields.

    As the girl arrived at the outskirts of Luneder she did not want to disturb the gatekeepers and watchers, who were busy with their morning duties. The girl also fancied herself for finding a hidden pathway out of the village in old man Dronam¡¯s garden, so she could enter and exit unseen. Making use of that secret entrance, the girl stealthily entered the village. She dashed through the thick foliage behind Dronam¡¯s garden, crawled over thick underbrush, and finally climbed through the broken gate obscured by trees and bushes.

    As the girl stepped foot in the garden the sight took her breath away. When she had snuck out under the cover of night, the girl had completely missed the beauty of the place she now stood in. Roses, dandelions and daisies, tulips, lilies and lilacs in full bloom, carefully tended and arranged, rose into view. The wonderful array of shapes and colours shone brightly in the morning light and made the girl halt. She walked through the lanes of flowers slowly, gently caressing them and taking in their sight and smell.

    ¡®Good morning, Ad¨¦lia,¡¯ called a friendly voice from the back of the garden. ¡®What are you doing here?¡¯

    Startled, Ad¨¦lia turned. ¡®Ah! Dronam! Good morning!¡¯ she said hurriedly, obviously caught red-handed. ¡®I was just¡­ well, passing through, and the flowers¡­ well, they¡¯re beautiful.¡¯

    ¡®No doubt on one of your adventures, and yet at such an early hour,¡¯ mused Dronam, hands in his thick beard and wise eyes fixed on the girl.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ offered Ad¨¦lia weakly. ¡®You won¡¯t tell my parents, will you?¡¯ She gave Dronam a dejected look that she hoped would melt whatever annoyance the old man felt.

    ¡®Hmm¡­ Ah. Well, no harm done no worries won, I always say,¡¯ Dronam answered with a smile.

    Ad¨¦lia puzzled over the old man¡¯s expression briefly but decided to take it as a good sign and press the matter no further. ¡®You really do have beautiful flowers,¡¯ she said, turning her attention back to the colourful rows. ¡®Do you take care of this garden by yourself?¡¯ Ad¨¦lia wanted to add that it was the first time she had seen the flowers in bloom, but she realised that would unwisely reveal this had not been her first trespassing offence.

    ¡®Well, I have always loved gardening,¡¯ said Dronam. ¡®It¡¯s a pleasure of mine to collect, grow, and arrange all sorts of plants and flowers. Until now I had done it as a profession and as a service to others. But what¡¯s a retired florist to do if not beautify his own home and garden?¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia nodded. ¡®Well, this garden is even prettier than the fields of flowers outside our village,¡¯ she declared. ¡®But I can¡¯t stare at flowers all day. I must be going.¡¯ Ad¨¦lia turned resolutely from the flowers to the old man. ¡®Thank you for keeping this a secret,¡¯ she added with a wink. She bowed and then started to move towards the garden¡¯s exit. She considered herself fortunate that Dronam was such a kind, forgiving man, and privileged to encounter such floral beauty in her own home.

    ¡®Ah, dear Ad¨¦lia, before you go there is something I must give you,¡¯ Dronam said. ¡®You may pick any flower from this garden for you to keep.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia¡¯s eyes lit up with delight. She ran back to Dronam, incredulous. She was torn between showing proper gratitude to the old man and seizing the prospect of owning one of his flowers, as if this chance might slip away. Her eyes darted from the flowers to the old man and back. Dronam laughed at her visible indecision.

    ¡®It¡¯s alright, girl,¡¯ he said. ¡®You deserve it. After all it is your special day, is it not? You are all of ten years old today.¡¯

    ¡®Ah! You knew?¡¯ Ad¨¦lia asked.

    ¡®Of course. Your father is one of my oldest friends. He never stops talking about you, you know. He¡¯s very proud of you.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia blushed, her cheeks turning almost as red as her hair.

    ¡®He¡¯s a very curious man, that one, but a good friend¡¯ said Dronam contemplatively. ¡®Old age may have dulled my strength and slowed my movements¡­ but your father looks like he hasn¡¯t aged a day since I met him. Still as young and full of vigour¡­¡¯ Dronam momentarily frowned, perplexed at the thought, but then dismissed it. He looked down at Ad¨¦lia, who was eagerly awaiting permission to take her gift. ¡®And I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve inherited his strength and youthfulness, dear Ad¨¦lia, with all your running around this morning,¡¯ he said with playful accusation. ¡®But listen to me ramble. Go ahead, child. You may select your flower.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia turned to the beds and rows of flowers skilfully ornamented. It was only now that she took in the full view of the garden and how each blooming complex contributed to the beauty of the whole. The stunning red of the roses, the piercing yellow of the lilies, the intriguing purple of the tulips, and the soothing white of the daisies, along with the multitude of other shades, all complemented each other and created a mesmerising canvas of colour. As Ad¨¦lia looked over the enclosure, the light brought out the intensity of each hue, beautiful in its own way, but even more so when seen against the backdrop of the whole. Fresh dew made the entire garden sparkle and shimmer in a surreal fashion under the morning sun. Faced with such beauty, Ad¨¦lia felt like she was in a different world, a transcendent realm of fragile beauty¡ªone which would be disturbed by every intruding breath she took.

    Ad¨¦lia turned shyly to Dronam. ¡®I can¡¯t possibly choose which flower to take.¡¯ Her voice revealed both disappointment and reverence.

    Dronam widened his eyes in compassion and then walked over to where the girl stood frozen. ¡®That¡¯s alright, dear,¡¯ he said with a hand on her shoulder. ¡®If you allow me to make recommendations, I will pick for you.¡¯

    Dronam walked to one of the flower beds. Kneeling down, he produced a small blade and put it to the stem of a mystifying purple tulip. Ad¨¦lia watched with wonder and keen interest as the old man silently and skilfully worked the fragile stem of the plant. But instead of returning to her, Dronam rose without a word and walked over to a bush where the small blade was used again. Then he stepped over to another corner of the garden and worked the blade once more. Finally, he walked back to where Ad¨¦lia stood and held out his hand. In addition to the first purple tulip, Dronam held a rose burning with red intensity and a lily shining with the yellow of the sun. ¡®Here you go, dear,¡¯ he said with a smile. ¡®Take them. Be careful of the rose¡¯s thorns.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia looked up at the old man, stunned at his generosity. She extended trembling hands and took the bundle from Dronam. The freshly picked flowers settled gingerly in her hands. Ad¨¦lia widened her eyes in amazement as she took in every detail, from the subtle bends of the tulip to the complex undulating spirals of the rose¡¯s layers. ¡®Thank you,¡¯ was all that Ad¨¦lia could say, her voice quivering with incredulity and delight.

    Dronam put away the blade he had used to cut the flowers and turned to the girl. ¡®You take good care of these, now,¡¯ he said. ¡®I picked them out for you for a specific reason. They are very special.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia leaned in closer, intrigued. ¡®What do they mean, Dronam?¡¯ she inquired.

    ¡®Well, you see,¡¯ began Dronam, apparently pleased that Ad¨¦lia had shown interest. ¡®The purple tulip you hold represents royal strength and independence. I thought it was fitting for you, Ad¨¦lia. You are a strong, confident young girl.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia focused on the purple tulip, pleased at its symbolic significance. She recalled how only moments earlier she had run through an entire field of them on her way back after sunrise.

    ¡®The red rose,¡¯ Dronam continued, ¡®is a symbol of passion and love. See, one day you will find someone you truly care for, someone you will give yourself to in love and companionship. It is customary in our village to give a red rose to those who have fallen in love. This one is for you to give to another.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia giggled at the thought and looked at the rose closely.

    ¡®You will understand one day,¡¯ Dronam offered with a smile. ¡®Now the last one is very special. It is said that lilies take in the light of the stars by night. That¡¯s what gives them their distantly piercing yellow colour.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯ve heard that before,¡¯ said Ad¨¦lia, recalling late night conversations with her father as they gazed at the majesty and splendour of the sky above. ¡®My father talks about starlight. He says starlight offers guidance and strength, but I¡¯m not sure what he means.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m sure that¡¯s true, young one. So you could say the lily symbolises the gathering of that starlight that guides and empowers. We use it to bless those who go away on long journeys¡­¡¯ Dronam paused and looked distantly at the flower in Ad¨¦lia¡¯s hand. ¡®Yes, the lily is a reminder that wherever we may depart, the starlight is with us.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia looked quizzically at the old man but left her questions unspoken.

    ¡®Anyway, Ad¨¦lia, I think it is time for you to go,¡¯ Dronam said with a raised eyebrow. ¡®Your parents will soon be wondering where their little girl has gone.¡¯

    ¡®Ah! You¡¯re right,¡¯ said Ad¨¦lia in a panic. ¡®I must be going. Thank you for everything, Dronam.¡¯ She turned and dashed toward the garden¡¯s exit.

    ¡®Happy birthday,¡¯ called Dronam after the girl.

    Ad¨¦lia turned with a smile, then finally, with flowers in hand, leapt over the short fence and disappeared into the maze of alleyways leading to Luneder¡¯s main thoroughfare. When she emerged from the obscurity of the alleys, Ad¨¦lia slowed to a walk and joined the growing throng scurrying about and preparing for the day. Painters and potters, tailors and sculptors, florists and carvers, instrument makers and glassblowers, all readied their workstations and set their wares on display. Luneder was renowned for its workers in the fine manual arts, and soon the streets would be filled with marvels of cloth and clay, paint and wood.

    Already some of the more eager merchants were advertising their products. Ad¨¦lia heard a vendor of glassware try and sell a wonderfully crafted glass rose. Across the street, a seller of instruments swore that the strings on his lutes played so beautifully and finely they could even put a dragon to sleep. Ad¨¦lia glanced at the beautiful bouquet in her hands and wondered why anyone would prefer glass flowers to the real thing. And she would sooner trust a spear to fell a dragon than a song. Ad¨¦lia hurried on through crowds of merchants and curious onlookers unaware of the young girl¡¯s morning adventures. But she did not go unnoticed, and a friendly voice called out to her.

    ¡®Good morning to you, Ad¨¦lia,¡¯ cried Aresa the potter, already busy at her wheel.

    Ad¨¦lia turned to see the source of the outcry. Aresa was sitting behind her stall, hands and feet working the potter¡¯s contraption. With bony fingers, she was shaping a lump of clay that Ad¨¦lia knew without a doubt would become another masterpiece. Aresa¡¯s warm eyes, set in a round face wrinkled with experience, gazed at the young girl with gentle focus. ¡®Good morning,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said cheerily.

    ¡®Lovely flowers, you¡¯ve got there, dear,¡¯ said Aresa, eyeing Ad¨¦lia¡¯s hands. ¡®You know, I¡¯m glad you came by. I¡¯ve got just the thing for you. Come on over.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia saw Aresa¡¯s inviting stare and gingerly stepped closer to the old lady¡¯s workstation.

    ¡®Don¡¯t be shy, love,¡¯ said Aresa with a laugh as dry as the clinking and clanking of her wheel. ¡®I want to give you something for your special day. Go on and choose any of the flower pots on that wall over there,¡¯ she said with a wave of her head. ¡®We can¡¯t have those pretty flowers wilt in your hand now, can we?¡¯

    ¡®Ah! You knew as well, Aresa?¡¯ exclaimed Ad¨¦lia as she walked behind the wooden shopfront. ¡®Old man Dronam gave me these flowers for my birthday.¡¯ The girl drew near to the old lady and held out her hands proudly.

    ¡®I had a feeling those were from that man¡¯s garden,¡¯ said Aresa with a smile. ¡®Finest florist in all of Luneder, he is. His flowers deserve the finest ornamented pots,¡¯ she added with a wink. ¡®Go on, girl, choose any you like.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia stepped to the back of Aresa¡¯s workspace and looked up in wonder at all the pots on display. All shapes and sizes, all shades and colours, stood still on old shelves ridden with dust. There were large plant pots exquisitely shaped and meticulously engraved with motifs of various landscapes. Smaller pots stood near, decorated with minuscule details of meandering swirls that boggled the imagination.

    Ad¨¦lia¡¯s attention was caught by a vase of modest size in the corner, golden in colour save for the couple of black figures locked in combat on its painted surface. She leaned in closer to make out the swarthy characters. A warrior stood his ground, spear in hand, against a large dragon poised menacingly to strike. Their battle dance mesmerised the young girl.

    ¡®I¡¯ll take this one,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said, lifting the old vase from its resting place and holding it up for Aresa to see.

    ¡®Interesting choice, love,¡¯ said Aresa, lips pouted. ¡®Didn¡¯t know you were into that sort of thing. You¡¯re nearly a lady now.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia beamed a smile and said, ¡®It¡¯s not just flowers that I like, Aresa.¡¯

    ¡®I hope it serves you well, dear,¡¯ said Aresa in resignation. ¡®Go on, your father will be looking for you.¡¯

    Sudden shock splashed across Ad¨¦lia¡¯s face. She had again forgotten that her daring morning activities would elicit worry from her parents. She turned to the potter with dismay and asked, ¡®You wouldn¡¯t happen to have seen my father, would you?¡¯

    ¡®Not this morning,¡¯ offered Aresa. ¡®But I¡¯m sure he¡¯s around somewhere. That man is like you, up before dawn, wouldn¡¯t miss the sunrise for the world.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia quickly put the bundle in the pot then bowed. ¡®Thank you very much for the vase, Aresa. I will treasure it always,¡¯ she said, and before the old woman could reply the girl had run off with determination.

    Ad¨¦lia dashed through the thoroughfare of Luneder, dodging merchants carrying wares and eager-eyed buyers shuffling about. With one hand under the pot and one on the flowers, she held her gifts close and raced toward her home. The thoroughfare cut from the main gate of the village in the east all the way to the western alleys leading to the docks, dividing Luneder in half. Ad¨¦lia¡¯s home was situated in the northern residential half, edging the dock district. From her window she could see Pirate¡¯s Lookout, the oldest structure in Luneder, a guard tower built in a bygone age to ward off seafaring Senh¨¬ plunderers. The tower was now a simple lighthouse, guiding passing ships with its watchful flame. But the lookout still stood proudly, an ever-vigilant guardian of the Western Sea.

    Ad¨¦lia had an innate distrust of the sea, an inexpressible trepidation of its incomprehensible vastness. While she had never sailed the sea, Ad¨¦lia observed it one day from the top of Pirate¡¯s Lookout. Staring out over the endless watery dunes, she was filled with dread. The sea was fickle and unpredictably changeable. It lacked the stability and security of land. Unlike the constant mounds of earth, the ageless shape of the mountains, and the unmoving stillness of the forest, the ocean rolled and roared, swallowed and swelled. The sea railed against its terrestrial counterpart, amorphous and untameable.

    As Pirate¡¯s Lookout came into view, Ad¨¦lia knew she was near home. But the path she had trod a thousand times was suddenly fresh with the urgency of the morning. As she turned into the last alley toward her home she saw her father Menkalinan, standing not far off talking with another man she did not recognise. Ad¨¦lia quickly hid behind the wall of a nearby house, uncertain of how to approach. She could not make out what her father and the other man were saying, but Menkalinan¡¯s hearty laugh and beaming smile indicated they were discussing woodcarving, his favourite subject and passionate profession.

    Relieved that her father was in a good mood¡ªperhaps good enough to forgive her sneaking out lightly¡ªAd¨¦lia emerged from her cover and sheepishly drew nearer. Menkalinan stood imposingly tall, a head taller than the other man, his broad shoulders fanned out with authoritative manner. He laughed and spoke through a thick yet well-trimmed beard, alive with the brown of earth. Shaggy hair of the same brown colour framed Menkalinan¡¯s gentle face, set with opal eyes and a prominent nose. His voice sounded forth with the quiet strength of ancient trees.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Ad¨¦lia set her flower vase down and latched onto her father¡¯s leg. ¡®I¡¯m sorry, father! I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ she said, tears welling in her eyes.

    Menkalinan cut off his conversation and looked down to see his daughter¡¯s glistening emerald gaze locked on him. Without breaking his smile, he stroked her hair and said, ¡®There you are, my dove. I¡¯m glad you¡¯ve returned.¡¯

    Panged with guilt, Ad¨¦lia buried her face in her arms and sobbed softly.

    ¡®Is that your little one?¡¯ said the other man, seemingly undisturbed by the interruption.

    ¡®Yes, she is,¡¯ Menkalinan said. ¡®My dove, my treasure.¡¯ He reached down to his daughter¡¯s hair again and plucked off bits of branch and leaf. ¡®Looks like you have been on another morning adventure,¡¯ Menkalinan said warmly.

    The other man stood silent, patiently watching the reunion with shadowy eyes, colourless like quartz.

    Menkalinan softly lifted up Ad¨¦lia¡¯s chin. Her tears streamed, following the contours of her face like clear rivers careening down mountains. In her father¡¯s presence Ad¨¦lia was not afraid to express her weakness, confusion, and frustration. Though strong and independent, proudly free-spirited and determined, Ad¨¦lia was also fragile, sensitive, and passionate. In her father she could confide all her delights and disappointments, aspirations and apprehensions. It was not that her mother Cassia was distant or uninterested, but Ad¨¦lia had always felt closer to her father. Her mother disapproved of Ad¨¦lia¡¯s frequent adventures, and she felt her interests were unbecoming. So it was Menkalinan who took her places and told her stories. Stories of heroes and villains, of the meek and the monstrous. He listened attentively, answered her inquisitive questions, and encouraged her exploratory endeavours.

    ¡®Do not worry, daughter,¡¯ Menkalinan said. ¡®All is forgiven. Now, come greet¡ªAh! I am sorry, I have quite forgotten your name already,¡¯ he blurted with apology in his voice as he turned to the stranger.

    ¡®My name is Umar,¡¯ said the man with a subtle but courteous bow. His voice echoed unnervingly with the still of silence.

    Ad¨¦lia turned to the stranger with curious eyes. Umar seemed to be quite young, a man of twenty years perhaps, with a smooth face, neatly shaped yet framed by rather unkempt dark hair. His clothing was indistinct, save for the traveller¡¯s cape clasped around his shoulders with a brooch of bronze. Tattered and torn, the cape had perhaps been white originally, now well-worn and discoloured with use. The clasp was engraved with the design of a coiled sea serpent. The beast frolicked amid rolling waves intricately captured in the metalwork.

    ¡®Yes. Umar and I were just talking about our methods of woodcarving, shaping and engraving the material,¡¯ Menkalinan said as Ad¨¦lia continued to stare at the stranger.

    ¡®What your father means to say,¡¯ began Umar slyly, ¡®is that he has been telling me how inexperienced I am and how utterly short I fall of a master woodcarver¡¯s skills.¡¯

    Menkalinan guffawed so loudly that Ad¨¦lia was certain not a soul in Luneder would still be asleep. With her home only a few paces away, Menkalinan¡¯s outburst was sure to have woken up her mother. Several faces looked in the direction of the commotion, puzzled looks inquiring what jest they had missed.

    ¡®You are too contrite, my friend. For one so young to be so knowledgeable in the art of wood¡­ it is extraordinary.¡¯ There was genuine delight and praise in Menkalinan¡¯s voice as he studied the young man¡¯s unyieldingly composed face.

    ¡®At any rate, that is why I have come to Luneder,¡¯ replied Umar. ¡®I desire to better my skill in the fine arts and to meet the masters of the craft. Luneder¡¯s reputation for such is second to none. I have only arrived a few hours ago, my ship making shore before the sunrise. And to already be acquainted with someone of your calibre is¡­ fortunate.¡¯

    ¡®I am pleased to see how eager you are to learn, Umar,¡¯ said Menkalinan, mouth bared in a grin. ¡®You should visit my workshop later. It would be my pleasure to show you some of what we discussed. But if you would excuse me for now, there are some family matters I must attend to.¡¯ He looked down at his daughter, who still clung to his leg and wordlessly eyed Umar.

    ¡®Of course,¡¯ Umar responded. ¡®In the meantime, I shall spend the day at the markets. There is much to learn from all craftsmen and trades here in Luneder. Thank you for everything. A good morning to you, Merenor.¡¯ With a bow, Umar turned and joined the throng heading toward the markets on Luneder¡¯s thoroughfare. His cape fluttered in futile defiance of the breeze and his silent steps were soon drowned by the commotion of the morning.

    Menkalinan watched him disappear in the crowd. ¡®What a fine young man,¡¯ he said. ¡®Now, Ad¨¦lia¡ª¡¯ Menkalinan began as he looked down at her once more, but his inquiry was met with a quizzical expression.

    ¡®Merenor?¡¯ Ad¨¦lia asked, perplexed at Umar¡¯s farewell.

    ¡®Ah! That is my¡­ business name,¡¯ Menkalinan stammered. ¡®A common practice in the trade.¡¯ Ad¨¦lia fixed her eyes on her father, unconvinced. It was unlike her father to keep things or to avoid proper answers.

    But before Ad¨¦lia could continue her questioning, they both heard a latch click and the door to their home swung open. Cassia appeared, her beauty unstained by the dishevelling clutches of the night. Auburn hair cascaded in rich locks and framed a slender face full of wisdom and grace. The same knowing emerald eyes as her daughter¡¯s shone in the gold of the morning sun. As Cassia stood in the doorway, she crossed her arms playfully, her gaze darting between husband and daughter.

    ¡®Who do I have to thank for the morning bugle?¡¯ she said with a smile. Her voice rang with the soothing air of the forest breeze.

    Menkalinan could only scratch his head and offer a guilty chuckle, and Ad¨¦lia giggled at the sight of her father in trouble. Cassia sighed with all the contentment of a mother and a wife.

    ¡®Good morning, mother!¡¯ Ad¨¦lia cried, her eager eyes beaming. ¡®There¡¯s something I have to show you!¡¯ She detached herself from her father and ran to where Aresa¡¯s vase lay on the ground. Picking up her treasured bundle, Ad¨¦lia ran proudly to her mother.

    Cassia eyed the items sharply. ¡®A vase from Aresa¡¯s workshop and three flowers from Dronam¡¯s garden,¡¯ she declared. ¡®No doubt spoils from your morning adventure.¡¯ With a glance, Cassia had pieced together the morning¡¯s events, noting not only the vase and flowers but the redness of Ad¨¦lia¡¯s eyes and the debris in her hair. ¡®Let¡¯s find a place for these inside,¡¯ she said, breaking Ad¨¦lia¡¯s stunned expression.

    Ad¨¦lia turned to her father with a face written with incredulity at her mother¡¯s ability to work things out. Menkalinan simply winked.

    ¡®And don¡¯t think you¡¯re in the clear either, dear,¡¯ Cassia snapped at Menkalinan as she stepped inside with Ad¨¦lia. Her tone was filled with gentle prodding rather than rebuke.

    As the door swung shut behind Ad¨¦lia, the brightness which had bled through the opening was snuffed and dimness settled over the interior of her home. In the pale, weak light the house seemed foreign, steeped in unwelcoming shadow. A stifling darkness seemed ready to swallow all, until Cassia drew back large drapes and opened windows. Light and wind rushed in like a swimmer¡¯s gasping breath after long periods underwater, and the familiarity of the place returned.

    Cassia walked over to a great mirror by the fireplace, its flames now extinguished. The mirror¡¯s wooden frame featured exotic shapes and mesmerising swirls that looked alive even through the still and lifeless texture. Ad¨¦lia remembered the day her father had finished the mirror and brought it home proudly as a gift for Cassia. But her halted reminiscing was interrupted by her mother, who beckoned her to come over to the mirror.

    ¡®Ad¨¦lia,¡¯ Cassia spoke with soft authority, ¡®come. We must speak.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia complied and stepped to where her mother waited. She feared a rebuke for her morning daring was incoming. But her mother¡¯s eyes showed no frustration or anger. Cassia¡¯s calm gaze, green as the forest in spring, focused on her with concerned anticipation. As she drew nearer, her mother turned and placed Ad¨¦lia¡¯s vase on the stone sill atop the fireplace.

    ¡®What do you think, Ad¨¦lia?¡¯ asked Cassia. ¡®Don¡¯t they look wonderful here?¡¯

    ¡®They do,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia agreed. She absently noted the paradox of the vase and the flowers; a visceral confrontation between man and dragon encasing the most innocent and gentle of living things. She wasn¡¯t sure what to make of this discovery, but Ad¨¦lia decided she liked it.

    ¡®But it¡¯s not flowers and vases that I wish to speak with you about, lovely as they are,¡¯ said Cassia, facing her daughter once more. She grabbed Ad¨¦lia¡¯s shoulders and guided her to the mirror. Picking up a nearby comb, Cassia began running it through her daughter¡¯s voluminous locks. The comb parted Ad¨¦lia¡¯s rich waves like a ship sailing on crimson seas. Bits of dry leaf and twigs fell to the floor, the last evidence of the earlier endeavour. Ad¨¦lia watched in silence as her mother groomed her hair and arranged her garments.

    ¡®Ad¨¦lia, I know you are a bit different,¡¯ she said at last, somewhat wistfully. ¡®You prefer knights to knitting. Swordplay to society. But perhaps I should not be surprised. You are an Amal¡¯ethar after all, and we don¡¯t follow conventions very well,¡¯ she added shrewdly.

    Ad¨¦lia looked up in surprise. The lecture on the impropriety of adventures did not materialise as she expected.

    ¡®Don¡¯t look so incredulous,¡¯ Cassia said with a chuckle. ¡®I¡¯ve had my fair share of adventures¡ªnot so long ago, mind you. And that¡¯s to say nothing of your father!¡¯ She knelt down beside Ad¨¦lia, meeting her eyes in the mirror. ¡®I¡¯m sorry it¡¯s taken me so long to accept that,¡¯ she said.

    Ad¨¦lia turned to her mother. She felt tears welling up, but supressed them. She had already cried enough on her birthday. ¡®Then why did you look so concerned earlier, mother?¡¯ she asked. ¡®I didn¡¯t go to Gohenur, I swear. I know you¡¯ve always said never to venture in the forest, so I¡¯ve kept away.¡¯

    A smile appeared on Cassia¡¯s lips. ¡®I am glad to hear that,¡¯ she offered. ¡®I was concerned because I feared you spoiled your present, dear.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia gasped breathlessly, unable to even stammer a reply. She couldn¡¯t believe the implications of her mother¡¯s words.

    ¡®I know you have always wanted to go,¡¯ Cassia continued. ¡®And since I have come to accept your adventurous nature, I thought it appropriate to grant your wish on your birthday.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia could speak no word, but she silently embraced her mother. Cassia returned the gesture affectionately. ¡®I love you, dear daughter,¡¯ she whispered. ¡®I hope you think no ill of me for failing to understand and accept you until now.¡¯

    Releasing the embrace, Cassia kissed Ad¨¦lia¡¯s forehead. ¡®You may go after you break your fast,¡¯ she spoke. ¡®After all, no adventurer should be caught hungry in the woods. We wouldn¡¯t want your grumbling stomach to scare off the forest creatures, would we?¡¯

    A smile broke out on Ad¨¦lia¡¯s face, and soon the tears she held back rushed forth in a river of joy accompanied by streams of laughter. The felicitous waters had washed away any bitterness Ad¨¦lia harboured toward her mother and surely cleansed any disappointment Cassia held against her daughter. It was as if a great burden had been lifted; an unspoken, invisible tension between mother and daughter had been relieved.

    ¡®Now go, get your father and we will all eat together,¡¯ Cassia said at last. Wiping her tears with the sleeves of her garments, Ad¨¦lia rushed excitedly to the door.

    Outside, the morning sun kissed the streets and structures with cheery brightness. Even Pirate¡¯s Lookout, normally a gloomy outpost against a pale sky, seemed friendly and inviting. A perfect, cloudless blue blanket enveloped the earthen stage of green and grey, and all was clinquant, tinged with the gold of sunlight. The pleasant radiance of the day reflected Ad¨¦lia¡¯s own jubilance and relief. Her birthday had already brought more surprises and unexpected encounters than a Hyada?an merchant¡¯s rucksack. She had seen such a merchant in Luneder once, rare as it was to get travelling tradesmen from the East beyond the mountains in these parts. Their craftsmanship rivalled her father¡¯s own, but their creations were more curious and queer, toys more mystical and trinkets more mystifying. Ad¨¦lia guessed Hyada?an weapons must likewise be exquisitely strange and yet exotically deadly.

    Menkalinan seemed not to have moved since the earlier exchange. He stood facing a crowd of artisans who were busy shuffling their wares along Luneder¡¯s thoroughfare. As Ad¨¦lia approached he turned to her with a smile that ruffled his facial hair.

    ¡®Did all go well inside, my dear?¡¯ he queried without lowering his grin.

    Ad¨¦lia was unsure how much her father knew about what had transpired, but had a feeling he was aware of the tension that was broken. She wondered whether the traces of her tears had been erased by the morning light. ¡®Yes, father,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said timidly. She drew in a deep breath. ¡®I think mother¡¯s become more accepting of my nature. She¡¯s allowing me to go into Gohenur!¡¯

    ¡®Ah! I figured she would come around,¡¯ said Menkalinan as he slapped his knee in delight.

    ¡®You knew, didn¡¯t you?¡¯ Ad¨¦lia asked, glaring at him with playful suspicion.

    ¡®Well, of course. I have been telling your mother for a long time that you would eventually want to venture into the forest. Naturally, at first she said it was my fault in the first place that you dream of adventures and journeys.¡¯

    ¡®You have a way of getting into trouble with mother,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia laughed.

    ¡®That is true,¡¯ Menkalinan sighed. ¡®But do not worry, Ad¨¦lia. I have no regrets about instilling in you a love for the land and its wonders, whatever trouble that lands me in. And I am glad to hear that your mother, too, now accepts this.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia smiled briefly but then lowered her eyes, suddenly overcome by an ineffable appreciation for her mother. ¡®Do you think I¡¯ll ever be as beautiful as mother?¡¯ she asked. ¡®She¡¯s so fair and kind. I want to be just like her.¡¯

    ¡®You, my dear, grow more beautiful by the day as your affection for the land increases,¡¯ Menkalinan assured her. ¡®You are more beautiful than the flowers you brought home this morning and already more kind than the old man who gave them to you.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia blushed, grateful for the compliment. The mention of old man Dronam sparked a new line of thought. ¡®He told me what those flowers mean,¡¯ she said with a secretive wink. ¡®With that in mind, I¡¯ll collect some more today when I head out to the forest.¡¯

    ¡®Do you intend to be a florist, like Dronam?¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia paused to think, placing her hand on her chin. With the impending excitement of the forest venture, her mind drifted from thoughts of flowers and fields. She recalled all the heroic tales her father had told her, all the stories which had left an indelible imprint on her mind, and a smirk appeared on her face. ¡®Well, flowers are dear to me. They are the fruit of the land I love, but my desire is to be a knight.¡¯ Her emerald eyes glinted keenly. She wondered how her father would react.

    ¡®Ah, you wish to do battle with brigands and bandits? To fight against plunderers and pirates?¡¯

    ¡®I want to slay sea monsters and dragons,¡¯ she said defiantly.

    For a few silent moments Menkalinan¡¯s mouth gaped open and his eyes widened. Finally, a hearty laugh escaped his throat. ¡®You may be a dove, but you have the spirit of the Lion!¡¯ he exclaimed proudly.

    Ad¨¦lia put on her best knightly stance, the way she imagined Sir Lanurel stood when he battled the accursed King of Stone and in the manner Lady Vildia faced off against the vile Dread.

    ¡®Well, to aid you in that quest,¡¯ said Menkalinan, ¡®I have something for you. Close your eyes and wait here.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia closed her eyes, shutting out the morning¡¯s light which now streamed evanescent forms through her eyelids. Her heart raced. In the darkness she heard her father¡¯s shuffling footsteps trail to her right. She knew his workshop was that way, a humble shack she seldom visited but an inviting place that smelled of oak and birch, pine and fine resin. She briefly heard the sounds of rummaging and then the footsteps returned, inching closer to where she stood in anticipation.

    ¡®Alright, my dear,¡¯ said Menkalinan. ¡®Open your eyes.¡¯

    As Ad¨¦lia¡¯s eyelids opened, Menkalinan¡¯s image coalesced in front of her. He looked much as before, except his outstretched hand held a short ebony spear. His smile pierced through the returning brightness.

    ¡®Happy birthday, my dove,¡¯ he said.

    Ad¨¦lia quivered with delight, her emerald eyes fixated on the object in front of her. She extended trembling hands and delicately took the spear, examining its length with a curious eye. The spear was much smaller than a full-size weapon but it fitted Ad¨¦lia nicely, still standing taller than her. Light-coloured designs were painted on the dark ebony shaft, waves and whirls which wound around the wood like wild vines. She followed the snaking shapes to the finely-crafted tip. The radiance of the spearhead captivated Ad¨¦lia. It was a stony material, bright like marble yet far clearer and more luminous. Polished and shaped to perfection, the sharp edges glinted and glowed. Warm light of all hues seemed to be trapped distantly inside, impossibly remote. And yet with each turn of the spear piercing rays of light burst forth as if from a diamond.

    ¡®You have always liked weapons.¡¯ Menkalinan¡¯s voice rang with pride for his daughter. ¡®And with your trip into the forest today, I thought it appropriate that you have your own. Besides, it was the only condition your mother placed on her allowing you into Gohenur.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia regained her composure after being startled by the beauty of the weapon. She gave the spear a few practice swings. It sung through the air, far more effectively and accurately than the sticks she enjoyed playing with. Hollow, ringing echoes rose in wake of the spear thrusts. The light inside the spearhead looked alive with each lunge, and when Ad¨¦lia settled the weapon, it became still and dim yet no less striking and beautiful.

    ¡®Thank you so much, father,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said as she met Menkalinan¡¯s eyes with a look of gratitude that went far beyond her words.

    ¡®Do be careful with it, Ad¨¦lia. And be wary in Gohenur. Your mother worries about you. Ah, she loves you more than you could know¡­¡¯ Menkalinan¡¯s words trailed off pensively.

    ¡®That reminds me, father,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said, breaking the mounting silence. ¡®Mother has called us in to break our fast.¡¯ She had just noticed the smell of the morning meal wafting, lingering, beckoning. No doubt Cassia had been cooking while she had been out speaking with her father and enjoying her gift.

    ¡®Ah, indeed. I do smell something good. We should not keep your mother waiting,¡¯ he said with a wink.

    Ad¨¦lia walked back inside the house, her father¡¯s hand in hers and spear held tightly in the other. Morning had well and truly dawned and the sun had painted the rooftops gold.

    Breakfast went quickly. Despite the copious amounts of eggs and ham, porridge and various cereals, as well as sweet cakes and pastries, Ad¨¦lia managed to eat lots and eat fast. The spear lay next to her at the table, an obvious sign that she could not wait to trek into Gohenur. Through mouthfuls of food, Menkalinan told tales about those who lived their life in the forest. He shared accounts of the fearless and the foolish who ventured without return into the deep woods. Ad¨¦lia found the stories amusing, much to Cassia¡¯s discomfort and displeasure.

    As soon as Ad¨¦lia bit into the last piece of cake, she rose and dashed out through the door with spear in hand. She knew her parents would be busy preparing for the feast later in the day. Cassia had spoken about inviting a few close friends to celebrate her birthday. Undoubtedly that also meant more food was on the way. But it was the company Ad¨¦lia looked forward to most. While she didn¡¯t have trouble getting along with other girls her age, she preferred the friendship of folk like Dronam and Aresa, who could show her interesting things and tell good stories. But until the night, she would enjoy herself in the forest. She would make the most of her parents¡¯ gifts.

    Ad¨¦lia ran through the streets of Luneder. Odd looks were thrown her way, both because of the determination of her sprint and the eerily glowing weapon in her hands. But she kept running. Past the markets, past the merchants, past the busyness of town and onto her goal. When she reached the city gates, she greeted the keepers without slowing. They returned the gesture with odd looks.

    Finally, she stepped onto the coloured meadows outside Luneder and away from the noise. Stopping to catch her breath, Ad¨¦lia cast her eyes up to the hill where the edge of Gohenur stood, taciturn and ancient. But something else¡ªan object even higher¡ªcaught her attention. Looking up into the cloudless sky, she could see a mass of earth suspended in the air. She recognised it at once. On clear, perfect days such as this, one could see the Sundered Land, a seemingly barren ship of earth adrift on a silent sea of sky blue. With its mountainous roots floating, it looked like a tooth pulled out of its nourishing gum. Ad¨¦lia knew the stories. When death and decay were allowed to reign, the world was rent. When the ambitions of an evil king drove him mad, the very land suffered and tore. She grieved that such land was separated from the rest of the world, irretrievably isolated and unreachably distant. She wondered what forests and rivers and fields and flowers¡ªand people¡ªexisted up there. Above all, Ad¨¦lia wished for the healing of the world.

    She snapped from her sombre thoughts of a faraway land and fixed her eyes on the forest in front her. The threshold invited her. The only sounds were the gentle beating of her heart and the wind¡¯s whistling wander through the leaves. She sighed in unison with the forest and stepped inside.

    It is not often that one finds a place so endlessly enchanting and engrossingly endearing that all sense of time and space are swallowed up by wonder. But such proved to be Gohenur to Ad¨¦lia. Like a peasant in a palace, all was new and marvellous. She was wonderstruck by every clamorous movement and captivated by every serene lull. She held audience with creatures great and small and found more flowers than she could carry. With the life of Gohenur as her companion, she lost count of hours. The sun finished its long course and darkness fell.

    It was the faint yet dulling scent of smoke that roused Ad¨¦lia from her adventure, an abrupt and nagging intrusion into the perfect scene of the forest. With the awareness of the night¡¯s enclosure pressing down on her, she rose and ran. But a strange sight met her.

    The western sky glowed red and orange over Luneder but it was too late to be the sunset. As she neared the edge of the forest, Ad¨¦lia realised what was happening.

    Luneder was on fire.

 Chapter Three - Arms and Armour

    Asphales found himself alone on a boat. He did not remember how he had gotten there or where he was headed. Looking around, he quickly noticed that no sails adorned the vessel and no oars were in place. The ship lay still and unmoving on a peculiar sea. Useless.

    He rose and paced the deck, but no sounds accompanied his steps. The wood remained lifeless, soundlessly unaffected by the weight of the puzzled passenger. The ship¡¯s hull was as solid and immobile as a mountain. Strange.

    Asphales gazed over the starboard railing but his eyes only met unfamiliar waters, a vast sea falling away into the infinite distance. No shores or signs of solid ground could be used as landmarks. No stars dotted the sky as guides to safe havens. There was nothing but endless sea and limitless sky joined together by the bond of an indistinct horizon. Featureless.

    Suddenly a threatening mist descended on the waters and grey enveloped all. The fog was thick with whispers. With the whispers came the wind. And the wind stirred the waves to restlessness. A malicious gale picked up, churning water and mist together in a blend of murky colour. The waves splashed against the vessel. Salt sprayed and filled the ashen air.

    In the midst of all this, Asphales caught hints of motion above. Flickers of black darted across the fog, shadows announcing the presence of a beast. Deep, rumbling flutters like the beating of large wings whirred hauntingly overhead, but the heaviness of the mist made it impossible to pinpoint the precise direction. With each flap of its wings, the beast roused the stormy gale. The beast frolicked delightedly just out of sight, basking in the whirlwind.

    Then came the cold. An unearthly chill cut the air with glass-like splinters of winter. The frost bit into the air itself, freezing the mist into a halt. Particles suspended in the air and broke, cracking under the frigid weight. Asphales shivered. He realised the beast had flown closer and was simply breathing.

    It spoke a word. It spoke its name. The sound was unlike any living voice. It burst through the cold like an erupting volcano. It boomed with the depth of the abyss and resounded with ancient force. It crashed through Asphales, piercing his frozen heart and gripping his bones. The voice thundered and broke all.

    Anarah.

    Asphales tried to scream but could only let out a chilled gasp. He ran across the vessel in vain hope of escaping the invisible grasp of the beast. He looked into the distance instinctively. Far away, warmth pierced the fog and Asphales could see a veil. A curtain intangible and opaque, it seemed to divide the storm from what lay beyond.

    A ship cruised beyond the veil, splendid starlight on its prow. It treaded calm waters with majestic efficiency. A sole figure stood proudly beneath the unfurled sails looking onwards. Even from a distance, Asphales recognised him. He recognised his father. Somehow he knew. And suddenly he forgot all about the beast and the storm, the cold and the wind that raged all around him.

    Where do you go, father? When are you coming back to me?

    Asphales tried calling out but no sound came forth. There was the chill, but there was something more also. What would he even cry out? He recalled painfully that he did not even know his father¡¯s name. In Silnod¨¬r, those who have the reputation of deserters are stigmatised. Their names are stricken from all records and considered as lower than words of cursing. None would utter them or even speak of them. Asphales had lost his father at an early age and so the name was gone. The only reason he remembered his mother¡¯s name is that his father spoke it so often, savouring it like honey on his lips, as if it were the name of the sea itself.

    In that moment, Asphales wanted nothing more than to leap into the rolling sea and swim to his father¡¯s vessel. He wanted nothing more than to be with him again and remember. But the whispers grew into the jeers of villagers and the cold numbed his limbs so that he could not move. The pain and the distance were maddening. He watched the ship sail away into oceans tauntingly calm and clear.

    Then everything creaked and cracked, like an unstable floor about to give way. Asphales became aware of the boundless depths beneath him, beneath the vessel and the sea. But even before fear settled in like a dagger, the sea shattered into glass and Asphales fell into blackness. He fell and fell until the mist became a speck in the interminable heights above. The black danced all around him and even the whoosh of the fall was silenced by the cavernous depths. In the dark he saw the world. He saw the beast. He saw the Man in Tenfold Seal. And deeper still he fell¡­

    Asphales awoke sharply. In a startled flash he took in his surroundings. He was not stranded on an endless sea. He was at home. He was not floating amidst a black sky. The darkness around him was only the familiar dimness of his lodgings before sunrise. But the instant of alert clarity too soon gave way to the tiredness of broken sleep. Relief brought with it fatigue.

    Asphales slumped back into his bed, but sleep eluded him. He twisted through the remnants of a half-remembered dream. When sleep proved futile, Asphales rose and let the sheets fall carelessly about him. His brown hair clung with sweat to his shoulders and upper back. Jasper eyes stared blankly, attempting to make sense of the sea and the fall, the veil and the beast. It was like trying to fathom the shifts of time itself. His exhausted mind quickly turned to other things.

    Asphales groggily recalled the previous night¡¯s events. The images played out blearily on the intangible canvas between his vision and the waking world. There was laughter and joyful noise which filled the night. There were children. And then the glimmer of arms, armour, and torchlight broke through the enchantment. The Imperial Guard. Asphales sighed. He remembered. This would be the day of his departure. He thought back to the encounter¡­

    ¡®Might you know where we could find Asphales Es¨¦linor?¡¯ asked Ledner, his voice even and firm like polished stone. If formality had a smell, this man would reek of it.

    Asphales looked around. Fear was written in the children¡¯s eyes. Valinos darted him a worried glance. The Imperial company stood motionless and silent. The stillness of the night swayed with the fire of torches.

    ¡®I am he,¡¯ Asphales said with attempted nonchalance.

    Ledner eyed him speculatively for a moment. ¡®How fortunate,¡¯ he said. ¡®Then, we may as well get to the point. Your presence is required at Castle Fara¡¯ethar as soon as possible.¡¯ His eyes spoke more than his words. Immediately.

    Asphales reeled inwardly. His head swam with confusion and questions. What could the Empire want with him? He had not done anything warranting the Empire¡¯s attention, certainly nothing criminal that he could recall. Why were they here, then? His thoughts spiralled. But underneath them all, Turon¡¯s taunting words reared their head. Could this be mere cruel coincidence?

    ¡®Now, if you would,¡¯ Ledner said, taking a step forward.

    ¡®Lay off him, you!¡¯ burst Renehos, flush with anger. ¡®Asphales hasn¡¯t done anything wrong!¡¯

    ¡®Settle, child,¡¯ Ledner said in a quiet yet commanding voice. ¡®Your friend is innocent. We are not taking him to the dungeons.¡¯

    Relief sank in. So he was not headed to the cells. With that gloomy outlook out of the way, other more enticing possibilities emerged. With fear dispelled, Asphales¡¯ admiration for the Empire returned.

    ¡®Why are you here, then?¡¯ asked Valinos, speaking the question that had been bubbling to the surface.

    ¡®I may not divulge too much of the matter,¡¯ Ledner answered. ¡®Nearly two tides ago, something arrived at Fara¡¯ethar that made us aware of the location of Asphales Es¨¦linor. Amaleron believed it required immediate attention, and so we have been on the road for the last ten days.¡¯ His authoritative tone suggested that no further questions would be tolerated.

    Asphales looked the company over and noticed that Ledner¡¯s words rang true. Their armour was mud-spattered and worn. Their faces wore the tell-tale marks of tiredness. Even Ledner¡¯s eyes, composed though they were, showed signs of exhaustion. Asphales tried to ignore the growing mystery and the questions which burned hotter.

    ¡®So you have come from Fara¡¯ethar?¡¯ he asked, giddiness hardly hidden. It was as if he had just registered the fact that a squad of Imperial soldiers of Fara¡¯ethar stood before him in the flesh. Fara¡¯ethar, the capital of Anardes and the place which birthed the stories in his book.

    ¡®That is correct,¡¯ said Ledner, impatience edging his voice. ¡®Now, any remaining questions will be answered in due time.¡¯

    ¡®Forgive me,¡¯ Asphales interjected. ¡®Could I ask that we spend the night here and leave on the morrow? Frankly, I reek after a long business day, and I must gather my belongings. And I believe your men would appreciate some rest as well. There is a wonderful guest room not far from here.¡¯ Asphales pointed in an easterly direction.

    Ledner sniffed the air and grimaced, as if only noticing the smell of fish for the first time. Asphales also detected a subtle change in Ledner¡¯s eyes. It was relief that rest was offered, but the man¡¯s air of formality and proud demeanour hid it well.

    ¡®Fine. We leave at first light. Starlight guide you.¡¯

    With these last words, Ledner made a strange gesture. He lifted three fingers in the air and then lowered his hand to point forward with two. The rest of the company mimicked the articulation and then marched off in rhythmical unison. Their torches flickered away into the night.

    The events after that conversation were a blur. He and Valinos had taken the children to their homes, silent and solemn though they were bombarded with questions. There was a quick return home, and an even quicker bath, brief and cold. Then there was a gentle descent into sleep and the dizzying fall of the dream¡­

    Asphales looked around in the dimness of his chamber. Fragments of the nightmare still plagued him, but he tried to concentrate on what needed to be done for the day. He dressed into dark trousers of coarse leather and a white linen tunic over which he strapped a brown leather vest. It was the beginning of fall and the winds in Silnod¨¬r were nothing to scoff at.

    As Asphales packed spare clothes and various supplies in his traveller¡¯s sack, first light streamed through crimson curtains. He imagined Ledner would be knocking on his door any moment. Asphales hurried through the remainder of his belongings. He moved to his desk, on which sat a small bag and his book, the last memoir of his family. He placed the pouch inside, satisfied at the clinking of the coins within, and nestled the book between the blankets in his pack.

    Asphales left his chamber and continued on through the hallways to the door. Here the daylight had not yet pierced through the sable filter of the night, and so the place remained steeped in shadow. As Asphales walked on he noticed that Valinos¡¯ room was already empty. Thoughts settled on him heavily. The weight of goodbye pressed upon him. He would have to abandon the comfort of the town he loved, the familiarity of the work which occupied his time, and leave the ballasts of his life to memory. He would even have to say goodbye to Valinos, his closest friend. There was great conflict between Asphales¡¯ eagerness to see the world and his reluctance to leave what he knew.

    Even worse was the realisation that rumours would abound after his departure, most of them negative. He would be seen as one who followed the footsteps of his parents, a deserter. But perhaps that very enmity could drive the doubts away and allow him to leave without hesitation. If nothing awaited him here it would make departure easier. Yet other rays of light cut through the dark clouds of his musing. The candid and unquestioning acceptance of the children. Turos¡¯ genuine warmth. It was with embroiled turbulence that Asphales threw on his boots and stepped out into daylight.

    The beginnings of an unusually bright and merry Queenthell morning greeted Asphales as he exited his lodgings. Sunrays broke distantly between the Undorn Mountains, showering Silnod¨¬r in remote light. Warmth poured in uninvited yet not unwelcome. A mellow breeze scattered milky clouds haphazardly across the lightening sky. The hazy chill of the morning was beginning to thaw.

    Asphales trod through the alley emerging near the Main Gate. With each step, he took in the details surrounding him. But not even the freshness of the outdoors brought lucidity to the turmoil in his mind. In the pale light, Silnod¨¬r seemed foreign. The thoughts of leaving the only place he had ever known estranged him. Familiarity fled from the sights he had taken in countless times. He suddenly felt small and alone. For what seemed like the thousandth time that day, Asphales forced his mind off things which escaped comprehension.

    As he came out onto Silnod¨¬r¡¯s central road, he scanned the area. The Main Gate stood open, but only the earliest of risers were traversing through its portal. The watchmen patrolled sleepily near massive stone pillars while devoted farmers headed briskly south, heavy tools in hand and light songs in their step. Asphales smiled. A typical Queenthell morning. On this day of rest, only the restless gatekeepers and crop-raisers continued their labour.

    As he looked on, he spotted the Imperial company standing a few paces from the nearest building across the path, still as statues. Only their capes bent to the whims of the wind. They had seen him as well, but made no move towards him. Asphales suspected impatience simmered invisibly beneath their stillness.

    ¡®A good morning to you,¡¯ Asphales called out, hailing the company. He crossed the road and approached the group. The men looked refreshed. Gone were the marks of fatigue. Even their lifeless armour seemed rejuvenated.

    ¡®And to you,¡¯ Ledner said with a nod. His silver helmet clinked subtly with the motion.

    ¡®Well, I believe I am ready,¡¯ Asphales said, hoping to sound more confident than he felt. ¡®Shall we be off?¡¯

    ¡®I doubt you are, young man,¡¯ said Ledner. He looked him up and down. ¡®Have you any arms and armour? We can¡¯t promise the road will be entirely safe.¡¯ Despite his ambivalent tone, there was unspoken certainty behind his eyes.

    Asphales realised how barren he was next to the fully-armoured Guard. He had neither weapon nor protective gear. But before he could stammer a reply, Ledner continued.

    ¡®Besides, you look the part of a man torn with turmoil and unfinished business,¡¯ he commented. ¡®You best say goodbye to your folks.¡¯ Once again, Ledner¡¯s tone added layers beyond his words. Swiftly.

    Asphales was not sure whether to confess he owned no provisions of war or to express the pain he felt at being reminded of his loneliness.

    ¡®I have no¡ª¡¯ he began to say, but was interrupted.

    ¡®Don¡¯t be a fool, boy,¡¯ Ledner said, exasperated. ¡®Look around.¡¯ He made a sweeping gesture that captured the entire town, its folk, and its buildings. Asphales followed the captain¡¯s hand, taking in sunlit Silnod¨¬r as if for the first time.

    ¡®Your folks,¡¯ he echoed. ¡®Your city. Don¡¯t throw away what you have here. A man may not choose his upbringing but you can choose how to leave it and remember it. Don¡¯t despise what has happened to you, for it has made you into who you are today. Now, off you go. Quickly.¡¯

    Asphales could not hold Ledner¡¯s keen gaze. He turned away, feeling foolish. He realised there was a strange gentleness beyond the stiff exterior of the company¡¯s captain. Just as Asphales began to think it would be easier to make a stone bleed than to draw emotion out of Ledner, his incisive perceptiveness had shot through his prejudice. Asphales wondered how much more the captain knew about him, and how much he was holding back about the quest they were to embark on.

    But his thoughts were cut short when he looked up and saw several figures making their way towards him. Their silhouettes were framed by daylight. In the distance, Valinos was coming down the road with Renehos, Demin, Aman, and Neansa in tow. They were each carrying something. Even old Turos was loping along behind them, struggling to keep up with the energy of the younger ones. Suddenly, Asphales saw the truth of Ledner¡¯s words. This was his town. These were his folk. The raging bitterness that suffocated him earlier fell away like autumn leaves.

    The children spotted Asphales and rushed towards him. He ran ahead to meet them. It was then that he saw what they were carrying. Each child had a bundle containing a piece of armour. Helmet, gauntlets, leggings, and a cuirass, all of polished silver and glinting steel. After the excited greetings died down, each child presented the component they were holding with pride. Valinos came up behind them and unveiled a slender sword of dark steel. The burnished surface of the blade captured daylight resplendently.

    ¡®I see you¡¯ve brought the whole troupe,¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®Aye, that I did,¡¯ replied Valinos. ¡®And we come bearing provisions for a fisherman-turned-adventurer.¡¯

    ¡®I guess there are benefits to working for an armourer.¡¯

    ¡®Indeed. I¡¯d like to see one of your fishing tools stop an arrow or a blade,¡¯ Valinos scowled.

    ¡®An¡¯ I¡¯d like t¡¯see you eat steel when th¡¯ food runs out, boy,¡¯ said Turos in rebuke as he finally caught up to the rest.

    Asphales laughed. He was glad that even on the cusp of goodbye they could share in a bit of brotherly banter. Valinos slumped in defeat. Turos gave a victorious sniffle. The children screwed their faces at the idea of tasting steel. Asphales wished he could bottle this moment and hold on to it forever.

    ¡®Thank you all so much for coming out to see me,¡¯ he said. Overcome with appreciation, he could not offer much else.

    Valinos answered first. ¡®My friend, I could not have you leave unprepared. And not without seeing you off. I had to get everybody ready early and prepare all the equipment before you. But seeing the faces on the guards as I made them wait was an added bonus.¡¯

    Asphales turned to the company, who watched him with aquiline attention. ¡®Aha,¡¯ he said. ¡®A minor mystery solved. No wonder Ledner was not knocking down my door at first light.¡¯ Both of them chuckled. ¡®Thank you, Valinos,¡¯ he said at last.

    ¡®Hurry, Asphales,¡¯ cried Aman. ¡®Put on your armour!¡¯

    Asphales looked at the boy and smiled before gazing around at the pieces before him. ¡®And thank you for all this, Valinos,¡¯ he said. ¡®Extend my gratitude to Paran, too.¡¯

    Valinos nodded grimly. ¡®That old smith was delighted to help.¡¯

    Asphales took each item and dressed for the journey. He strapped the leggings around his trousers. He secured the cuirass around his chest. He drew the gauntlets on over his forearms, and finally placed the helmet over his head. It was not a smooth process. As he had never handled such things before, Asphales fumbled often and required Valinos¡¯ assistance. The children watched excitedly as each armour piece transformed their friend into a fledgling warrior.

    Last of all, Asphales took hold of the sword. Even without extended exposure to weapons, he knew it was of high quality. The hilt fit snugly in his hands. The blade was flawless and balanced. It moved impeccably through the air even in his unskilled hands. If it had not been such a sombre moment, an instant of afforded clarity before the great unknown, Asphales would have run with his imagination. In that moment he at least somewhat looked the part of Hadar the Mighty. But with the Guard staring at him there was double incentive to restrain himself and avoid embarrassment.

    ¡®Wha¡¯ will you call it, lad?¡¯ Turos asked suddenly. The children¡¯s eyes lit with anticipation.

    ¡®The sword?¡¯ Asphales inquired. He gazed at the magnificent blade and once more noticed how it caught the light. It was as if daylight was the blood coursing underneath its metal skin. His eyes traced the contours of the blade to its tip.

    ¡®Anfr¨¬r,¡¯ he said. The sword flashed with the sun as Asphales turned it, almost in response to its call. ¡®Its name is Anfr¨¬r.¡¯

    The children cheered. Turos gave a contented grunt.

    ¡®Daylight,¡¯ Valinos sighed. ¡®So dramatic.¡¯ An approving smile was painted on his face.

    Of course, it was not simply the way the sword caught the light that earned the blade its name. It was daylight that brought with it the adventure he would set out on. It was daylight that cleared away the doubts. And it was daylight that revealed the friends whose companionship he enjoyed. Like the blade captured something of the light around it, it would hold this moment in its steel. This would be the memento of an instant free of sorrow and confusion. Daylight. A memory.

    Asphales had sparsely finished his antics when the Guard began to make its way over to the group. The company¡¯s footsteps approached behind him, their beat counting down like a clock. Asphales knew it was time to go. He breathed deeply.

    ¡®When will you be back?¡¯ asked Neansa, taking hold of his hand. Her dark hair intensified her bright, attentive eyes.

    Asphales turned to Ledner, who brought the company to a halt not far off. His hard expression was unreadable.

    ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ Asphales said honestly as he faced the children again. The look on their faces struck him deeper than arrows.

    ¡®Will you teach us the song when you return?¡¯ Demin inquired.

    Asphales recalled that their re-enactment of the battle against Ulm¨¬r was broken off before the climactic song could be sung. He knelt down and put his arms around Demin and Renehos, drawing all four kids together in a bundle. ¡®I will teach you more than that,¡¯ he said wistfully. ¡®I will teach you all the songs I learn along my travels. I promise.¡¯

    The children smiled in a way that bound Asphales to his promise more securely than a written contract. He rose and met Turos¡¯ eyes. They were adorned with glistening pearls.

    ¡®Lad,¡¯ he quavered, ¡®I¡¯ve always thought o¡¯you as me son. I¡¯m sorry ¡®bout wha¡¯ happened t¡¯your ma and da back then. Goin¡¯ back out on them waters after tha¡¯ was th¡¯ braves¡¯ thing I seen.¡¯

    Asphales felt his own composure weakening, but he held on. ¡®Turos, I can¡¯t thank you enough for taking care of me during those dark years.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m proud o¡¯you and the man you¡¯ve become,¡¯ Turos said. ¡®You¡¯re a strong lad. Capable. You don¡¯ deserve th¡¯ shame y¡¯get e¡¯ry day from folk who think they go¡¯ it together. I¡¯m sorry. But one man can¡¯t turn th¡¯ tide o¡¯ th¡¯ town.¡¯

    The sobs Turos choked back strengthened his accent and made him even more difficult to understand. Asphales did not mind. He let the man pour out his heart and appreciated the sentiment.

    ¡®Your lot may change, lad,¡¯ Turos said after a deep breath. ¡®If it¡¯s like in them stories o¡¯ yours, there¡¯s better days yet. Ulmeer was an orphan ¡®fore he was king, no?¡¯

    Asphales, aware of the full story, took the encouragement cautiously. But he nonetheless acknowledged the old man¡¯s use of the things he loved as comfort. ¡®Aye, it was so,¡¯ he said.

    ¡®Your lot may change,¡¯ Turos repeated. ¡®May your sail lead to better shores¡­¡¯

    ¡®¡­beneath far-flung skies and golden dreams,¡¯ Asphales concluded. It was the fishermen¡¯s benediction of departure. He could think of no goodbye more appropriate than this.

    Valinos turned to him next. He handed Asphales the sheath for housing Anfr¨¬r. Asphales strapped it to his belt, admiring the fine leather workmanship. He sheathed the sword and gave his friend a knowing look.

    ¡®I¡¯ll see you to the gate, friend,¡¯ Valinos said.

    The Imperial company drew near and collected Asphales. He noticed how underdressed he still seemed next to the Guard. His basic armour parts were attached roughly to his clothes, fitted with leather straps in unorderly fashion. The Guard¡¯s pauldrons, gorgets, and helmets were fastened seamlessly to the rest of their armour. Save for their exposed faces, they were almost entirely men made of silver and steel.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    However, the company did not get far when their attention was drawn to a great commotion above. The frantic fluttering of wings and an eagle¡¯s call commanded the company¡¯s gazes. Asphales and the rest also looked up at the strange sight.

    A great eagle descended with a screech and landed in a flurry of smoke and road dust. A gust of dirt and feathers trailed in its wake. It was far larger than any regular eagle, standing taller than a man. As it majestically outstretched its wings, Asphales realised it could fill a small room. It did not seem hostile and none of the men of the company took defensive stances. The passers-by cowered at the sight of the creature and even the children backed off a good distance. Soon, mutters and whispers filled the space created by the eagle¡¯s descent. The bird folded its wings inwardly and cawed expectantly.

    ¡®Ah, Gidius!¡¯ called Ledner. ¡®Why are you here?¡¯

    Gidius made a motion that could be interpreted as a nod. Ledner seemed to understand and signed to one of the guards. The other man stepped toward the eagle and stooped down to draw something that was tied to its feet. A message.

    Asphales braved closer to the eagle and afforded a better look. The eagle¡¯s flawless coat sheened with a lustrous brown. Clawed feet clutched the earth with a weighty grip. Eyes like golden gemstones were set in its sharp face, peering with keen intent. But the bird¡¯s most curious feature was a ring of bone-like protrusions that hung around its head. Stone-grey and osseous, it crowned the eagle with a marrow diadem.

    Moments later, Asphales noticed that Valinos was next to him, examining the creature silently. He seemed entranced by the eagle. Gidius cocked its head awkwardly and stared at Valinos.

    ¡®Asphales, I think this is the same eagle we saw yesterday evening,¡¯ said Valinos, topaz eyes still locked on the bird.

    Asphales could only vaguely remember the sight of a bird the previous day. Too many things had afflicted him since then. He nodded absently, but Valinos¡¯ attention was elsewhere.

    ¡®You know this creature?¡¯ Valinos addressed the Guard.

    ¡®Aye,¡¯ responded one of the men. ¡®This is Gidius. Finest and swiftest of the Empire¡¯s messengers.¡¯ His voice flowed like water over smooth stones.

    ¡®Magnificent,¡¯ Valinos said under his breath. His eyes never left the creature.

    Asphales was not sure what was more surprising; the truth that the huge bird was known to the Guard or the fact that someone other than Ledner had spoken. So Ledner did not command a company comprised of mutes, after all, he mused. But Valinos¡¯ interest in the eagle also intrigued him. He thought back to the affinity Valinos had expressed for the sky.

    ¡®You say you saw Gidius?¡¯ the man questioned. ¡®That¡¯s not surprising. Amaleron sent him ahead of us. Must¡¯ve been brooding for days waiting for our arrival.¡¯

    Asphales looked over to where Ledner stood. Another guard brought the small cylinder that was tied to Gidius¡¯ foot. The captain broke the wax seal and poured out its contents. He unrolled a scroll and read the message. There was a terse silence. His face became hard as stone. He threw Asphales a grave look.

    ¡®Do you know anything about this?¡¯ Ledner asked, stepping over to him. He held out the open scroll. The message inside was written in hastily-scrawled lettering.

    Bring the armourer¡¯s apprentice also.

    A.

    Asphales stared blankly at the note. Puzzles battled and raged violently in his head. Why was Valinos tied to this? How had the sender known his occupation? The questions piled on top of the ones already weighing him down. He turned to his friend, who watched him with curiosity.

    ¡®How fast can you acquire a second set of arms and armour?¡¯ Asphales asked flatly.

    Half a watch later, Valinos returned with his meagre possessions in a bag and armour equipped. He looked every bit the tenderfoot soldier Asphales appeared to be. The black-tinted armour suited Valinos¡¯ dark clothing, meshing together like leaves on a tree. An argent blade rested sheathed at his side, its hilt decorated with fine red felt. His intense blue eyes were varnished with pale confusion.

    The early morning sun still lingered calmly, but Ledner seemed to be fuming with impatience. Gidius had already stormed off and the company was eager to be on their way. Turos and the children still hung about, but hurried goodbyes had to suffice as they watched Asphales and Valinos set off on their journey. They passed through Silnod¨¬r¡¯s gate and the watchmen saluted the Guard. Asphales glanced back. He saw the children send him off with a gesture copied from the Guard. Three fingers up. Then two fingers forward. Starlight guide you. Asphales turned to the road. His mouth curved into a smile as a stray tear ran down his face.

    Not far out, Ledner made the group¡¯s travelling schedule clear. Five hours of brisk walking. One hour¡¯s rest. This was to be repeated before a final stretch of four hours¡¯ travel preceded a two-hour break for their main meal and camp setup. Then a six-hour sleep would bring the start of the process again. He drilled through the instructions stoically. None dared voice their complaints.

    As the midday lamp settled overhead, Asphales and Valinos reached their first break like parched camels. Moving around under pounds of unfamiliar armour and equipment tired them. The company¡¯s relentless pace only made things worse. The silence that hung around the group like a gloomy cloud made things boring. There were only miles of open country to admire during their trek.

    ¡®Well, I can¡¯t say I¡¯m looking forward to the rest of the journey,¡¯ Asphales said to Valinos as he sat down roughly. He stretched his legs and tried to rub the numbness out of them. The rest of the company sat nearby in organised groups of three. A dozen armoured men all up beside them lazed around a shady dell. Quiet chatter carried on and some of the Imperial soldiers rummaged through their packs in search of their water skins and a quick bite. Ledner alone stood vigilant and silent, watching the wind as if it reported to him.

    Valinos smiled darkly. ¡®The stories don¡¯t usually mention the tiring hours spent in travel, do they?¡¯

    ¡®That they don¡¯t,¡¯ Asphales admitted breathlessly. His friend¡¯s shrewd words had caught him. Asphales desired the glory of his tales without the hard and mundane work involved. His protests ceased after that moment of revelation.

    ¡®I¡¯m glad I left Silnod¨¬r,¡¯ Valinos said sullenly. ¡®That note made me happier than I would admit to, for all the creepy mystery involved.¡¯

    ¡®What about old Paran? Won¡¯t you miss your trade?¡¯

    Valinos gazed into his hands for a moment. ¡®Asphales, my stance has not changed since yesterday,¡¯ he said with cool composure. ¡®If anything, my conviction grows stronger with every league we put between us and the city.¡¯

    ¡®But the old smith... I mean,¡¯ mumbled Asphales.

    ¡®Yes. He took care of me,¡¯ Valinos said as he looked down again. ¡®I am grateful that he raised me and taught me. But the kindness of one man can¡¯t erase the enmity of many.¡¯

    Asphales fidgeted absently. He thought back to Turos¡¯ words.

    ¡®Wherever we end up,¡¯ Valinos declared, ¡®it sure beats¡ª¡¯ He caught himself and bit back the word. Home.

    Before Asphales could collect his thoughts, Ledner stepped toward them with his usual rigidity. Asphales quietly hoped that he came bearing answers.

    ¡®Do you know how to use those?¡¯ he asked, pointing indistinctly toward the two. Recognition was not forthcoming. ¡®The swords,¡¯ he clarified.

    ¡®No,¡¯ Valinos said, his tone dripping with hunger. ¡®I only forge them.¡¯

    ¡®Uh, no,¡¯ Asphales said, somewhat ashamedly. For all his love for heroic stories and countless dramatic portrayals of bladed battles, Ledner¡¯s intimidating approach put his fictional skills into perspective.

    ¡®Figured as much,¡¯ said Ledner, creasing his brow. ¡®A thought occurred to me. I shall have one of us teach you the basics of swordplay. Can¡¯t have you shame the fine blades you hold as if they were nothing more than iron bars.¡¯

    Asphales and Valinos rose brusquely with all the non-existent finesse of new recruits.

    ¡®Ser¨¬n!¡¯ called Ledner. It was the first time Asphales had heard Ledner raise his voice. The sound was like splitting stone. He caught a glimpse of the Ledner who could command with terrible efficiency on the battlefield. One of the armoured men promptly rose and made his way over.

    ¡®Ser¨¬n shall teach you. And he may as well instruct you in rudimentary movement. I¡¯ve seen drunken sailors move with more grace than you two in your armour.¡¯ With that, Ledner dismissed himself. He spoke a silent word to the approaching guard and returned to his speculative watching.

    The man he called Ser¨¬n arrived. His face was decidedly softer than Ledner¡¯s. His gait was gentler. Blond hair sat atop a friendly face and drooped wildly into his sky-blue eyes.

    ¡®I am Ser¨¬n,¡¯ he said. Asphales realised he was the same man who spoke to Valinos about the eagle Gidius. ¡®I am to be your instructor,¡¯ Ser¨¬n said. A look of playful contemplation crossed his features. ¡®You may call me ¡®master.¡¯ Shall we begin?¡¯

    Ser¨¬n had only begun to explain the fundamentals of stance and position when Ledner signalled for the company to move. The day ploughed ahead. A determined wind drove away the clouds like an artist clearing his desk in preparation for a masterpiece. Under a barren sky, the company quickly gathered their supplies and set off again. Asphales and Valinos had Ser¨¬n as a constant partner from this point. Unlike silent Ledner, he proved active in conversation, whilst cleverly avoiding answering any of the key questions they both had. While some of the captain¡¯s own insistence on formality and dogged determination was present in Ser¨¬n, he was nonetheless a more pleasant companion.

    The training continued even during the most arduous part of travel. It was rife with frustration as even the most basic stances and steps needed constant correction. Before even commencing swordsmanship, Asphales and Valinos were forced to perfect their movements. Ser¨¬n had them walk in complicated step patterns, often for hours at a time. Occasionally they would be required to sprint with the added weight of Imperial shields. This demanded delicate balance and precise strength. And even during breaks, they were given various exercises and stretches to perform that drew all the flexibility they could muster in their constricting armour.

    The company travelled south until the road curved gently to the southwest, following the contours of the River Valarion flowing forth from the Undorn Mountains. They travelled past the farmlands which criss-crossed the countryside. With harvest approaching, dozens of farmers could be spotted among the golden fields. And yet the fields seemed weaker each year, Asphales reflected. Unfavourable brown land overtook the golden stretches of fertility, like a desert eating away at a forest.

    Night eventually approached, colouring the sky in black and drawing the day to a close. The company made camp by the river. Ledner directed the watches. Since there were twelve men of the Guard, they worked in alternating shifts over two days. Six men per night keeping watch an hour each. Ser¨¬n drew the first turn and so for the first time that day he left Asphales and Valinos alone. Several other men prepared the fire and the food. Exhausted and aching, Asphales and Valinos fell asleep almost immediately after a hearty meal. The last thing they saw was Ledner staunchly refusing sleep¡¯s advances like a spurned lover. They blacked out when the arms of sleep took them and slumbered soundly under the cover of stars. The soothing rush of the river guided their dreams.

    Dawn came as a rude awakening. Sunrise stung their sleep-laden eyes. Queenthell¡¯s bruises and aches arrived with a vengeance. Asphales and Valinos discovered that the saying ¡®The new tide cures the ailments of the old¡¯ was a lie. But Ledner took no prisoners and cut no corners. He kept the company on schedule unflinchingly. All the heaviness of sleep could not hold him back from driving the group onward.

    Sunsfell, Moonspell, and Windsell passed without many incidents. On the second day of the journey Ser¨¬n posed a riddle amidst all the physical training. ¡®Pretty titles make poor tidings,¡¯ he said teasingly. Asphales and Valinos were promised an entire sheleh and given until the end of the tide to solve it. A full seven days. And from that day he insisted more heavily on being called ¡®master,¡¯ to the point of aggravation.

    Ser¨¬n¡¯s coaching continued. By the third day, the routine had become bearable. By the fourth, it was a familiar friend. Or perhaps more of an unwelcome relative. Ser¨¬n gradually incorporated sword manoeuvres in his exercises. He demonstrated proper sheathing and unsheathing, effective use of balance and counterbalance, and efficient thrusts and swipes and parries. Progress was slow but sure. Asphales and Valinos began to have an inkling as to the potential held within their muscles and their blades.

    Meadsbell arrived and Ser¨¬n conducted controlled duels between Asphales and Valinos. By now their swords settled comfortably in their callused hands and their movements were well-rehearsed rituals. They danced in their armour as freely as if inside a second skin. They made music with their weapons. Shrill and sharp. It was the beginning of the tunes of war.

    In the evening, the company had reached the outskirts of Gohenur¡¯s northern tip. Trees began to dot the countryside more frequently. The setting sun collapsed onto the bedding of the distant rolling hills, spent and weary. Smoky clouds pillowed the giant¡¯s gentle fall. In its wake, bashful stars emerged like spring animals out of their hiding places.

    The Imperial soldiers trudged onwards. As shadow lengthened its stride among the thickets, faint murmurs reared amidst the company. Ser¨¬n signalled for Asphales and Valinos to halt their exercise. They were carrying out a complex technique involving rhythmical steps and corresponding sword flicks.

    ¡®What say you two?¡¯ Ledner asked.

    Asphales and Valinos looked on, puzzled. Sweat lined their foreheads. In their concentration they missed the company¡¯s chatter entirely.

    ¡®We are approaching the Woodland Waypoint,¡¯ Ser¨¬n filled in. ¡®The most renowned tavern in Upper Anardes,¡¯ he added smoothly. ¡®Our master asks for your thoughts on the matter.¡¯ He winked.

    Asphales had heard tales of this famous inn. Travellers from all over converged for fine drink and finer songs. Of course, his means had not allowed him to travel so far south previously.

    ¡®It¡¯s tradition, is it not?¡¯ he called out. ¡®Meadsbell evening beckons weary waylayers and workers for a rest. So it has always been.¡¯ Asphales eyed the company. There was a thirsty look in their eyes. ¡®Not even the Imperial Guards are heartless enough to break tradition, are they?¡¯ he declared. Some of the soldiers choked back laughter, as if Asphales had just taunted a bear.

    Ser¨¬n smiled and turned to Ledner. He simply exhaled a monotonous gruff. ¡®Fine. I hope you¡¯ve brought coin,¡¯ he stated.

    The company cheered and resumed moving down the darkening road toward the forest. Ser¨¬n motioned for them. Asphales patted Valinos on the back. ¡®We won¡¯t be paying for drink out of our own purses tonight,¡¯ he said knowingly, then followed after the soldiers.

    The lauded inn waited less than half a mile away. The huge wooden structure scaled into the night. Three-storeyed with barns and stables beside, it buzzed with hints of bustling activity. Lights streamed through its windows. Silhouetted movements could be made out. The sounds of mirth mumbled through the walls. A chimney raged with smoke, rumouring of fire and warmth. The smell of food and drink emanated strongly. Beyond, the woods thickened in the empty, murky shadows.

    As the group approached the tavern¡¯s entrance, a figure burst through the doors raucously. He wore a nobleman¡¯s clothing but comported himself without the restraint of nobility. Deliriously drunk, he swayed toward the company muttering avidly. He gazed queerly at the soldiers. Laying eyes on Asphales, he stumbled near.

    ¡®Yes, yes, I¡¯ve been waiting for you,¡¯ he said. His stark ruby eyes showed none of the incoherence expected of a drunk. They watched Asphales with age beyond the man¡¯s apparent years. But before he could elaborate on this bizarre greeting, the man lurched off toward the forest. He wrapped the night around him like a cloak and laughed away into the distance. The company stood dumbfounded for a moment, but then dismissed the man as a herald of the festivities inside and stepped through the doors.

    The clamour of two dozen men rushed past the opening like out of an uncorked bottle of wine. But the initial force settled into curious silence, as if the company had disturbed a set on which every prop and actor was in place. Every eye in the room turned to the intruders. Several drunken gawks, many confused glances, a few disinterested looks, and even a couple of naturally murderous stares all landed on the company.

    Asphales took in the sight of the tavern. The main hall was spacious, with wooden tables arrayed neatly by the dozens around two halves of the room. The resultant alley led the eyes up to a counter that ran the length of the back wall. Against the backdrop of endless bottles, crockery, and glassware stood the innkeeper, the director of this play. With a single stage direction the old man restored the commotion as men went back to their drinks and cards, waiter girls resumed serving, and bards recommenced fiddling a background tune. The innkeeper made his way to the company and instinctively singled out Ledner for negotiation.

    ¡®Good evening, sirs,¡¯ the garrulous old man began, ¡®ye don¡¯t look like regulars. I am Rel?nehar Renm¨¬r. Renm¨¬r the Third, mind you, but we won¡¯t mention how the only thing my good-for-nothing father did right was leave me this establishment. I am owner, proprietor, and provider of the Woodland Waypoint, at your service. Please, just call me Relu.¡¯ He was pleasant enough, and had a warm smile. Relu was deprived of teeth as he was bereft of hair and his friendliness undercut whatever annoyance taciturn Ledner might have felt at his excessive chatter.

    ¡®Greetings, Relu,¡¯ said Ledner. ¡®We are on an errand and simply wish to spend one night here.¡¯

    ¡®Splendid, sir!¡¯ Relu exclaimed. ¡®It would be my pleasure to host esteemed men of the Guard in this humble institution.¡¯ Suddenly he took on a transactional tone and knotted his fidgeting hands together. ¡®Now, board is one sheleh and two for a night per head. And I assume you shall be wanting meals and drinks, no? We have the finest cut of venison for only eight dens. Our hallmark mead will set you back five dens. Costly, but I promise you, you will taste nothing like it in all of Anardes.¡¯

    Ledner said nothing, but looked as if he intended to strike the innkeeper for the outrageous prices.

    ¡®Relu, my fine man!¡¯ Ser¨¬n chimed in. He stepped closer to the innkeeper. ¡®I see the years have been kind to you. You know, I have heard only the highest praise regarding this fine inn you run. Not only for its quality but also for its generosity. And besides, look at us. We are tired men, haggard and hampered. We could not carry exuberant amounts of coin on our journey. How about you let us off for the fee of one sheleh per man for accommodation and feed us for five dens each?¡¯ As a concluding flair to his act, Ser¨¬n scrunched his face into a convincing look of utter dejection.

    Relu paused momentarily, making calculations in his head. Asphales observed the innkeeper¡¯s face and could almost see tension building as the old man counted his loss. Relu turned from his own thoughts to the company and eyed their weapons. ¡®Fine, fine!¡¯ he blurted, hands visibly shaking. ¡®Of course, sirs. Not a problem. One sheleh per head and five dens per meal.¡¯ Relu¡¯s finishing touch was an exaggerated, fraudulent smile.

    The men of the company reached for their purses and collectively gathered twenty-one shelehi. After handing them to the old man, he led them up to their bedchambers on the third storey. Asphales noted the layout of the building. The first floor was devoted entirely to the tavern hall and wine cellars and comprised the majority of the Waypoint¡¯s area. The second and third floors contained the guest rooms and baths. After finding his own chamber on the third floor, Asphales unloaded his gear, unstrapped his armour and joined the rest downstairs.

    Soon, the company was dressed casually and seated at one of the larger tables in the tavern near the sizeable hearth. Stripped of their armour, the men of the Guard blended in with the mixed crowd of the inn. Surrounding them were men of all characters and calibres, some lecherous and lewd, but others chivalrous and chaste. Asphales saw that there was flesh beneath the metal. The Guard were simply people, men who carried stories and scars.

    Their meals came around and were soon devoured. Relu personally brought out the tavern¡¯s signature mead and once again vouched for its quality. Asphales was not a customary admirer of drink, but he was loath to pass up something supposedly legendary. He swigged the mead along with the men of the company; a shared moment of travellers¡¯ bonding. The men lowered their mugs and sighed appreciatively.

    Ser¨¬n was the first to speak. ¡®Starlight be praised, the old quack wasn¡¯t lying,¡¯ he said, as other soldiers nodded. ¡®This is fine mead indeed.¡¯

    ¡®That was a fine display of the riddle¡¯s answer back there, Ser¨¬n,¡¯ Asphales said directly and only slightly addled by the drink.

    ¡®Aye, I figured you had it even before that,¡¯ Ser¨¬n said.

    ¡®Someone care to explain?¡¯ Valinos said as he put down his mug.

    ¡®Pretty titles make poor tidings, remember?¡¯ Asphales began. ¡®It was the riddle. It means don¡¯t submit to pretentious authority.¡¯

    ¡®Congratulations, sprout,¡¯ said Ser¨¬n. ¡®You¡¯ve passed the first test. By all the power and authority pompously invested in me by yours truly, I appoint you to the rank of understudy.¡¯ He flicked blond streaks out of his eyes. ¡®But you¡¯re right. A man claiming to be more than he is, claiming to control more than he can handle,¡¯ he intoned seriously, ¡®he will disappoint you. Like an actor.¡¯

    Asphales recalled the moment of illumination. He had realised how effortless Ledner¡¯s authority came, like swiftness to a cat. It was intrinsic. So when he had sensed dissension in the ranks of the company regarding the tavern, an idea sparked. Perhaps Ledner had no authority in that area. Ser¨¬n¡¯s mocking use of ¡®master¡¯ and his wink had confirmed the interpretation.

    ¡®I guess you figured it with our captain back before the inn, right?¡¯ Ser¨¬n asked, laughing. ¡®Drink truly is the fuel of discord. Of course, you realise that means a quarter of the things I insisted you perform as your ¡®master¡¯ were totally unnecessary,¡¯ he added, pleased with himself.

    The other men at the table laughed. Ledner brooded quietly.

    ¡®They were not useless, however,¡¯ Ser¨¬n said seriously. ¡®At any rate, I owe you a sheleh. Figured it out before the deadline.¡¯ He drew out the silver coin and passed it along the table. Asphales pocketed it with a grateful nod.

    ¡®And you owe me a full onel,¡¯ Ledner said. ¡®I wagered you would give the game away before mid-tide.¡¯

    Ser¨¬n groaned. The men laughed again at his misfortune.

    ¡®You really thought the captain lost control of his men?¡¯ asked one of the soldiers with repressed laughter.

    ¡®Sod it all, Maresh,¡¯ Ser¨¬n cursed. ¡®I was set up.¡¯

    ¡®I knew you would get attached to the boys,¡¯ Ledner commented. ¡®You take to your recruits like a father his sons. And you always give them the same riddle.¡¯

    Asphales laughed along with the men. Ledner¡¯s shrewdness came as a surprise, but he looked at Ser¨¬n anew. He truly appreciated the man¡¯s kindness. He felt welcomed. He threw a glance across the table and noticed that even Valinos smiled.

    Ser¨¬n reached for an onel and reluctantly handed it to Ledner. Asphales nearly gasped. He had rarely seen a full golder before.

    ¡®Well, since I have been wrung dry, I may as well be doubly refreshed,¡¯ Ser¨¬n sighed. He slunk further into his chair.

    ¡®Of course,¡¯ Ledner said. ¡®Drinks are on me for the penniless and penitent. That was some good bargaining back there. I almost feel bad for taking the coin off you.¡¯ He paused. ¡®Almost,¡¯ he repeated, rousing another round of laughter from the table.

    ¡®A song would cheer me up,¡¯ Ser¨¬n sulked.

    ¡®Yes, let¡¯s have a song!¡¯ Maresh cried. Several men from other tables looked in their direction. The fiddler on the makeshift stage in the corner was sawing through a solemn tune with disregard.

    ¡®We¡¯ve had enough of this dithering,¡¯ another guard agreed, addressing the musicians with a vague gesture that Asphales supposed was meant to mock an instrument. He had no idea what instrument the guard was emulating and he guessed the man did not either. Other voices bellowed in agreement.

    ¡®Aye, and make it a good one!¡¯ came a voice from a table. ¡®No more of this weepy stuff. Makes me feel like I¡¯m at a funeral.¡¯

    The bards looked at each other and shrugged. The irritated fiddler ended his dirge abruptly. A few whispers later and all three men took up positions. The instruments were ready. The room hushed in anticipation.

    They played a sweeping song with a silly story. The audience cheered in an uproar as the fiddler bowed furiously, the flautist whistled vigorously, and the lutist fingered frantically. They raised their voices to sing and the crowd joined in.

    There once lived free a maiden fair

    As wild as raging stream

    Her only wish, her solemn dream

    To journey ¡®cross the air

    To sail above the worlds of men

    By night she left their camps

    But far below the canvassed lamps

    At dawn she woke again

    The maiden sweet her songs she sang

    To heaven¡¯s gate they rose

    Her melodies of longing throes

    In eagle¡¯s ears they rang

    Then one day came the eagle down

    From glorious heights above

    With words but few confessed his love

    And promised her a crown

    ¡°Ascend with me, let¡¯s leave tonight

    We¡¯ll build a world anew¡±

    The eagle¡¯s words which rang so true

    Dispelled the maiden¡¯s fright

    The maiden knew she made her choice

    To live with eagle high

    ¡°Let¡¯s race across the moonlit sky¡±

    Delight was in her voice

    On eagle¡¯s wings and wind she rose

    Enraptured in a trance

    As shadows lit and colours danced

    In sleep her eyelids closed

    To lands unknown which wonders fill

    Was lost the maiden fair

    But rumours linger in the air

    That yet they dwell there still

    Asphales and Valinos had not heard the song before, but they realised it was a favourite. A classic. Asphales found it hard to concentrate on the lyrics as the tavern danced and whooped and sung along. But perhaps this is how these songs were to be enjoyed, he thought. In the frivolity of the moment and with the company around you. Relu sung loudest. The song lifted Ser¨¬n¡¯s spirits and he chanted wildly yet with surprising beauty of tone.

    No sooner had the song finished than the bards gave in to the crowd¡¯s demand to run through it again. The second time, Ser¨¬n picked up a spare lute and joined the musicians. He conjoined a wonderful counter-melody to the song¡¯s relentless tune. Ser¨¬n added complex layers of timbre and cleverly chosen chords to the already intense tonality of the song. Asphales was surprised at the delicate skill on display by an Imperial guard.

    At some point, Asphales noticed two or three men sitting at their tables, stubbornly refusing to join the festal commotion. Eventually, they drifted through the crowd towards the Waypoint¡¯s exit. Something glinted around their belts, but the ruckus erupting all around him prevented him from seeing properly. The figures disappeared into the cold night.

    Things settled down after that, as the musicians rested their hands and stretched their fingers. The lutist and the fiddler retuned their strings while the flautist called for a drink to soothe his numb lips. Men returned to their tables and their card games, and soon the familiar cacophony of laughter and cheering and grunts and profanities filled the atmosphere.

    The company chatted away late into the night. Several more rounds of drinks came around which drowned Ser¨¬n¡¯s sorrows entirely. The mead even loosened Ledner¡¯s tongue and softened his temper, like hard stone ground into pebbles. They spoke of trivial things and vital matters also. The most interesting thing Ledner let slip was that a horseback scout should have preceded the Guard¡¯s arrival and prepared Asphales for the journey. He guessed this was the reason behind Ledner¡¯s troubled temper and excessive caution during their trip.

    The night did not go on without incident, however. A bar brawl broke out a few tables across from the company. With a simple nod, Ledner directed Ser¨¬n to the spot where the two drunkards were trading blows. In no uncertain terms, the guard threatened to charge them with counts of public disturbance and indecent conduct. The inebriated fellows did not seem to comprehend the guard¡¯s words, so Ser¨¬n threw in a few punches of his own. The two men promptly backed down. Authority on fair display once more.

    Ledner eventually called for a halt and guided the company to their chambers. He wanted them rested and able to walk straight on the morrow. Addled guards are no good, and there was still half the journey to complete. Asphales lay awake for a long while in his room. The sense of distance from his home and the melody of the song rattled restlessly in his mind before sleep drove them away.

    Morning came sooner than Asphales would have liked, but in spite of the previous night¡¯s revelry, Ledner kept the company on schedule. There was a rap at his door which awoke him and announced the company¡¯s departure. Moving with all the slowness of a heavy head after a night of fun and lack of sleep, Asphales gathered his things and went downstairs. Equipping the armour took longer but he did it alone. On the inn¡¯s first floor, Relu thanked each one of the guards profusely for their patronage as he waved them briskly out the door.

    In the daylight, Asphales could see the edges of Gohenur¡¯s vastness filling the southward horizon. Autumn¡¯s touch left the woodlands smeared with fiery red, fierce orange, and dusty brown. The company resumed their march, once again traversing the length of the main road along the Valarion. The woods thickened around them and the path thinned. Soon the mess of trees was all that they could see. The river¡¯s ceaseless rush guided them unfailingly through the endless forest maze.

    Five hours passed and the company¡¯s first break approached. After passing through an arch of trees, they happened upon a clearing in the heart of the forest. Carpeted with the hues of fall and enclosed by countless knotted pillars of wood, the glade was the perfect spot for a rest. The soldiers laid down their burdens and weapons and spread out relaxedly over the area. Maresh and another guard were assigned patrol and provision of supplies. They meandered through the nearest trees, keeping a lookout. Eventually, they wandered out of sight and into the woody tangles.

    ¡®It¡¯s beautiful out here,¡¯ Asphales said as he lay down on the crunchy blanket of leaves. He breathed deeply and took in the forest smell. ¡®How large is Gohenur?¡¯ he asked as Ser¨¬n came near.

    ¡®Vast. Very vast,¡¯ he said as he looked at the forest all around. ¡®It spreads west nearly to the sea and to the east all the way to the roots of the Undorn.¡¯ He pointed in the respective directions. ¡®It divides Upper and Lower Anardes quite nicely. And on the west side of the Valarion, the forest runs down all the way to the coast.¡¯

    Asphales closed his eyes, as if picturing the geographic immensity of the woods.

    ¡®Are we following it all the way?¡¯ asked Valinos.

    ¡®We are,¡¯ Ser¨¬n said. ¡®The river runs into the Bay of Anardes, and Fara¡¯ethar lies that way.

    ¡®I can¡¯t wait,¡¯ Asphales said serenely.

    ¡®You can¡¯t indeed,¡¯ Ser¨¬n snapped. ¡®Up! Don¡¯t think a bit of drink will hinder your training. Today you two shall duel me.¡¯

    Asphales opened his eyes and noticed Ser¨¬n¡¯s wicked smile. The challenge invigorated him. He stood up, Anfr¨¬r drawn and poised.

    ¡®That¡¯s the way,¡¯ Ser¨¬n said as he unsheathed his slender blade. It glinted with gold and featured a viny engraving that slid down the length of the sword.

    Valinos pulled out his blade with a quick motion. The weapon hissed as it left its shackles.

    Ser¨¬n looked at both of them in turn. ¡®Let¡¯s see what you can do,¡¯ he mused.

    But before any of them could make a step, shouting from among the trees interrupted their battle. Maresh¡¯s voice broke free through the commotion. ¡®Foes! Foes!¡¯ he cried. ¡®Ambush!¡¯ He stepped into the clearing. Blood ran down his right arm. And before he could make another sound a crackling whisper whistled through the trees and pierced sharply.

    Maresh fell, levelled by an arrow.

 Chapter Four - Red and Black

    The tenebrous curtain of night was aflame. Splashes of red and orange gnawed insistently at the black. The flames splayed against a distant sky, scraping in futility as the world below was being reduced to ash. Billowing smoke rolled endlessly and added a dull grey tint to the collage of colour. The fields were still in the dead of moonlight but alive with fire. The once dazzling purples, yellows, and reds of the flowers were blackened by heat and buried in the grey of ash.

    Ad¨¦lia ran through the meadows charred with death. Fire. Fire filled her vision as she dashed in a panic toward her home. Endless shades of red replaced the lively greens that had occupied her sight in the forest. Everywhere she looked the constant grip of flame engulfed all that she knew and loved. The fire swallowed stone and wood with remorseless vigour. It beat against her skin with unrelenting heat and stung her eyes with unyielding brightness. She held the few flowers she brought back from Gohenur close to her to protect them and trudged onwards. Her father¡¯s spear gleamed like starlight in her hands.

    As she approached the edges of Luneder, Ad¨¦lia could see the buildings, mere silhouettes immolated in cloaks of bright yellow. But she could not only see, she could hear. Nightmarish sounds pierced through the crackle of flame. Pained screams and howls filled the air, terrifying cries that would stay with Ad¨¦lia long after the flames extinguished and the embers died.

    Then she saw the shadows. Black shapes moved deftly among the flames near the main gate. There was no panic in their motions, only a determined, killer intent. They were men Ad¨¦lia did not recognise. Armed with swords and spears, they cut down any who attempted to flee the village.

    More screams. More howls. A part of her wanted to stay back. To run away. To get away from this place. She could not discern whether it was cowardice or caution. Ad¨¦lia moved sluggishly through the paralysing fear, but she decided to go ahead. It is said that affection overrules wisdom, and so the girl¡¯s love for her village and the desire to find her family precluded any notion of staying away or fleeing.

    The main gate was not an option, though Ad¨¦lia remembered there are ways to enter Luneder unseen. She quickly changed her course, averting her gaze from the unsettling phantoms at the gate, and headed for Dronam¡¯s garden. She cautiously lowered the spear. The glowing light could give away her position and already Ad¨¦lia feared that perhaps the invaders had seen it as she approached.

    As she ran the path that only this morning had brought her joyously into the village, questions rippled in her mind like startled fish in a pond. What had happened here? Who were the invaders? Where had they come from? How come no one had a chance to escape? Ad¨¦lia choked back tears when her train of thought settled uncomfortably on questions about her parents. Where were they? Were they safe?

    She kept running, shaking her head as if to make the worry and fear fall out and dissipate. On her left, the blaze sprayed incessantly over the high wooden wall like boiling water in a pot, each flaming lick a reminder of the inferno raging inside. If she closed her eyes, the smell of burnt things pierced her nostrils. And even if she held her breath and stopped her ears from the ceaseless cries, the scorching touch of heat was ever present. Nothing could block out the unfolding tragedy.

    When Ad¨¦lia arrived at the clearing leading into the garden, she was horrified to see thick smoke and flame concentrated where the old man¡¯s house was. She feared for him and for his garden. But getting in this time would prove a lot more difficult. The thick foliage through which she had crawled earlier creaked and cracked under the deceptive weightlessness of fire. The wooden boards which had rotted and fallen, giving Ad¨¦lia access to Dronam¡¯s garden, were now steeped in embers and in danger of collapsing along with the entire section of the wall. The opening spewed out smoke threateningly.

    Still, Ad¨¦lia was determined to find out what was really happening and to find her parents. Ignorance chokes consolation. The pain of not knowing would be too great a burden to bear, so the girl pressed forward. Putting the spear aside for a moment, she hid the flowers in her garments and tucked her wavy scarlet hair behind the collar of her simple dress. Then, with spear in one hand and the other drawing up her dress over her mouth and nose, Ad¨¦lia lowered herself and began to crawl through the opening.

    She had to be careful not to grind the fragile flowers against the ground, to ensure the spear did not get stuck between planks of wood, and to keep her hair from touching the embers. With eyes closed against the smoke and only short, muffled breaths for air, the agonising seconds through the opening seemed to draw out for hours. Suddenly, Ad¨¦lia felt a painful lick against her left shoulder. She had gotten too close to the burning wood. The sting made her hurriedly scramble through the last part of the hole.

    She emerged on the other side and it was as if she stepped into a furnace. At least outside some of the sea currents and forest breezes fought the choking stillness of the air. Inside, the atmosphere was stifling. Ad¨¦lia gasped for breath in vain, for the air only burned her throat. It felt like the time she had watched Aresa fire her kiln and the workshop filled with a blazing embrace that seeped into every part of her body. The memory sparked further sombre thoughts.

    Ad¨¦lia coughed and wheezed, attempting to adjust to the heat. She staggered as her vision blurred from the abrupt spike in temperature. She reached out to steady herself but felt only something brittle and warm touch her hand. It crumbled when she grabbed hold. Dazed, she looked around and it took but a moment for realisation to settle in.

    The old man¡¯s garden was almost unrecognisable. There was no daylight dancing on dewy strips of flowers, only a dead stillness and the harsh touch of fire. There was no lively, gentle sway filling the air with colour, only lifeless remains buried in a blanket of ash like a black winter. The flames still raged around the garden, framing the entire scene in red. The blaze had been unforgiving, devouring the garden like a rabid dog would a bone. All that remained was a hollow, smouldering caress.

    Ad¨¦lia opened her hand and the charred petals of what may have been a tulip clung to her palm, a broken reminder of beauty and fragility. The fire had not left her unmarked, either. Her clothes were ragged and blackened. Her face, arms, and legs were thick with cinders and soot. Sweat sheened on her forehead and clung to her hair, desperate droplets of moisture in an arid land.

    With eyes still locked absently on her hand, Ad¨¦lia started walking in no particular direction. Each step crunched and crushed burned petals beneath her feet, indistinct sounds against the whirring of fire overhead and all around. The dead flower flew away from her hand, flitting drily before it fell against the ground.

    She was roused from her daze when she looked up. Her gaze shifted from her hand and landed on another. Near the door to Dronam¡¯s house, a body was splayed across the threshold. Ad¨¦lia stopped. It was as if a chill, wintery hand lay hold of her heart and froze her from the inside. She could not clearly see the body sprawled inside past the doorway but she did not need to. The wrinkled hand she could see, with its skin creased like a spider¡¯s web, told her everything.

    The shock and sadness and loss and loneliness hit her all at once. Suddenly disoriented and surrounded by a forest of fire, Ad¨¦lia collapsed. Her home, her humble Luneder was gone. Dronam was gone. Her mother and father were probably¡­ She wanted to cry but it was like trying to drown the sun. The heat dried up her tears before they fell.

    It was from this moment that Ad¨¦lia began to develop a painful awareness of the transience of things. Life is slave to the whims of death and decay. Every petal stir and every breath, every stone and every tree, every cloud and every wave, all are driven along by inscrutable forces to an inevitable end. One may try and grasp and hoard and grab hold¡­ but like sand through fingertips every moment and memory slips by evanescently. She may not have grasped all of this at once, but the seed had been sown.

    Looking around, Ad¨¦lia saw the air filled with kindling cinders flown by a struggling wind. They filled her view like fireflies. And she realised that fire, too, comes to nothing. Not long from now and the fire will die, the ember will cool, and soon no trace will be left of it. The force which had reduced all else to naught is itself brought low by things more menacing and unappeasable still.

    And to fathom that all things are swept by in this unavoidable cycle toward decay and dissolution, and to suddenly see one¡¯s place in it and appreciate all things for their fleeting beauty¡­ that is true perspective. Ad¨¦lia realised she was a mere breath in a hurricane. It made her dream of forever, of eternity, of a place where things healed and endured.

    A familiar sting brought Ad¨¦lia to her senses again. Suddenly she was in Luneder again. The burn on her left shoulder ached intently. The fire flared all around her. The incessant screams were overwhelming. The smell of smoke simmered.

    The urgency of her mission also dawned afresh. She rose, steeled herself, and tightened the grip on her spear. Ad¨¦lia plotted a mental map from the garden to her house. She knew the village and its pathways better than anyone. She could get from the gate to the dock in minutes, with every shortcut and obscure alley in-between as familiar as the strings to a lutist. She hoped the fire had not destroyed the clandestine paths she intended to take. For above all else she needed to avoid detection. Whoever the invaders were, she could not afford to be seen or caught. Not for the first time or last, hesitation and uncertainty gripped her with icy claws.

    Ad¨¦lia ran through the remains of Dronam¡¯s gate and into the alleyways. She would have to traverse at least part of the main thoroughfare to reach the obscure alley leading away from the Pin and Needle. From the haberdashery it would be a short trip through the tailor¡¯s district to get to a portion of the city wall she named the Planks. Long unused and untended, it still protected Luneder well enough but the inside portion was a mess of wood and brick. Ad¨¦lia often used it to cut across several districts without traffic or hindrance.

    But as she rehearsed the route mid-sprint, her eyes caught hold of a shape moving frantically nearby. Startled, Ad¨¦lia took cover. She held her breath to slow her racing heart and so as to not inhale fumes from a stream of fire close by. She instinctively covered her spear with a part of her dress.

    The wild, panicked footsteps were accompanied by breathless whimpers and occasional cries. It was someone running. Running from something. Another set of clattering footsteps, rough and heavy, followed on the heels of the first. The whimper rose into a scream. Then Ad¨¦lia heard a sickening crunch as something metal struck flesh. The shouting was silenced. She heard a heavy thump as the body fell.

    ¡®Speedy little blighter,¡¯ a voice said to itself.

    Ad¨¦lia sat motionless. She clutched her spear with the tenacity of a young child with its favourite toy. Her knuckles were white with pressure. With eyes closed, she tried not to think of the life that was just snuffed, or of the murderous playfulness of the assailant. And all the while she tried not to think of what would happen if she took a breath, choked, and coughed from the smoke. She tried not to dwell on what would happen if they were to find her.

    Then she heard another set of footfalls approaching. Slower. Precise. Through the buzzing fear that rang in her ears, Ad¨¦lia thought she could make out the subtle, fluttering movements of a cape.

    ¡®Oi, what¡¯re you doin¡¯ here?¡¯ called the same voice with the touch of playful recognition. The accent was rough and difficult to place, but decidedly seaman-like. ¡®Fancy a prance around the fire? I mus¡¯ say the red captures ya nicely.¡¯

    The other figure halted, footsteps fading into silence. For a moment, quiet lingered in the air.

    ¡®Stop fooling around, Kest,¡¯ the new voice intoned, more refined. ¡®There¡¯s still a notable absence of fire on the northwest end. Get to it.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, sir,¡¯ said Kest mockingly. A harsh chuckle followed his words.

    ¡®You know how much our lord hates a shoddy job.¡¯ There was no amusement in the answering voice.

    Kest cleared his throat roughly. ¡®Right. Speakin¡¯ of, I wanted to tell ya. Saw somethin¡¯ weird out the main gate not long ago. There was a¡­ light out in the smoke, way out of town. Could swear it was movin¡¯ and everything.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia froze. She became conscious of the glowing light hidden crudely by her garments. So someone had noticed it after all. Even without seeing the other man, Ad¨¦lia could feel his eyes narrowing in suspicion and intrigue. She knew he was watching and waiting. Her breath caught in her throat.

    When no answer was forthcoming, Kest continued.

    ¡®So what? Ya think anybody is lookin¡¯ out fer the town here? Could someone have come lookin¡¯? Just bein¡¯ careful, ya know?¡¯

    ¡®Rest assured, nobody cares about the backwater sods in this town. The only reason we¡¯re out here is for that pesky woodcarver.¡¯ Spite fizzled and bubbled underneath the surface of his words. ¡®Now, no more talk. Get to it.¡¯ There was an unnerving familiarity to the man¡¯s tone. Footsteps rose again as the figure walked off briskly along the thoroughfare.

    Kest grunted and grumbled unintelligibly, then set off in a different direction. A metallic scrape followed his steps.

    The intruders¡¯ conversation brought Ad¨¦lia some relief and clarity. At least it was clear the fire was caused by men. Earlier, when she first saw Luneder aflame she fancied for an instant that a dragon had burned down her home. She may not have a lute, but she had a spear¡­ She chided herself for her folly. Dragons lived in stories and in faraway places and times. Not here. Not today.

    But it also brought distress. The invaders were here for her father. She could not make sense of that fact, and it gnawed at her like rust. Worry sprang afresh. And they were intending to burn the northwest end next. Her pathway. A boiling anger thawed her paralysing fear. She would get there first.

    Ad¨¦lia peered cautiously over the top of the barrels where she had hid. There was no sign of Kest, the other man, or anyone else. Locating the Pin and Needle proved difficult from where she was, but Ad¨¦lia wanted to make sure the path was clear. Finally, she rose from cover and moved away from the endless billow of smoke nearby. She drew a long breath and coughed. Without looking at the body straggled on the ground, she ran.

    In the thoroughfare the heat was less intense. Before long, tears streamed down Ad¨¦lia¡¯s face. But whether it was from the smoke earlier or the anger or the loss of those she loved, she did not know and did not care.

    When Ad¨¦lia reached the Pin and Needle she met the familiar sight of fire and destruction. But she had no time to mourn the loss of yet another landmark adored since childhood. Thick voices and gritting footsteps announced the arrival of more invaders. She ducked into the alley to the left of the store and ran ahead, heedless of the flames raging overhead.

    Soon, the sweetness of anger faded from her lips and she was left with only the bitter, acrid feeling in her stomach that hatred brings. The courage that resentment beckons retreated. Terror descended on her like a smothering blanket. And after a while, none of this seemed real anymore. Numbed with the cold of fear and pain, the flames no longer stung. Blinded with the blurriness of tears, her surroundings became surreal. She moved dreamily through a nightmare, driven onward only by her strength of will and an affectionate desire. She continued through the fire.

    After twists and turns and many burns, she arrived at the Planks. Here the blinding light gave way to sullen darkness. Cool air broke through the heat. The cries of the night were replaced by a muffled silence. Ad¨¦lia felt like she could breathe and see and hear again, and the insubstantial sensation of weightlessness dissipated. She was thankful the familiarity of the Planks was untainted by fire for now.

    The problem of darkness was solved by the spearhead. It shone brightly in her hands, illuminating the way more reliably than torchlight. Ad¨¦lia questioned again what sort of material the mysterious spearhead was made of. She ran her hand along it. It was cool, yet a throbbing warmth emanated from it. She had no idea where the light came from or how it lay trapped inside the glass-like case. But the spear lit her way through the tangles of the Planks, and for that she was grateful.

    Navigating the disarray of wood and stone was slower at night, even with the helpful light of the spear. After a few minutes it was slower still. It felt like she could only see several paces ahead of her instead of the dozen metres as before. Then she noticed. The spearhead¡¯s light dulled. Almost imperceptibly at first, but it was surely becoming dimmer. Ad¨¦lia did not know what this meant or what it foreboded. She usually enjoyed the challenge of traversing the obstacles of the Planks, but urgency drove her to frustration. She decided to climb the wall and walk along the parapet. It was more treacherous, but at least it would be out of the encroaching darkness.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    She scampered across several jutting stones and grabbed hold of a thick outlying log. Heaving herself up, she repeated the practiced motions up to the next layer. The spearhead dimmed yet again with a flicker. As she climbed her thoughts wandered. What would she even do when she found her family? How could she hope to stand against well-armed and ruthless men? She feared how this would all end. Words came flooding back. The only reason we¡¯re out here is for that pesky woodcarver.

    Ad¨¦lia reached the top of the wall, bone-tired and weary. As she stood up, she closed her eyes and took a breath. Some of the chill night air teased her nostrils and stroked her face. But soon smoke intruded like an unwelcome guest and slapped her. She opened her eyes and the scene was as she remembered. From her vantage point on the northwest wall, she got a clear view of Luneder as it led away down toward the docks. The city was a pyre. Beyond, the sea was tinged with firelight and rolled on unabated into the dark horizon.

    Something caught her attention in the distance by the docks. Ships. Foreign, unfamiliar ships. Black sails. Pirate vessels. The sea. She tasted venom in her mouth. Her thoughts roiled. In a rush, pieces of the puzzle fell into place. The invaders had come from the sea. They were pirates. Ocean scavengers and bandits who preyed on the weak.

    Other scraps of information and shards of memory scrambled for her attention. She recalled stories and fables of invaders from the sea. Reports of massacres and ruthlessness. Swashbuckling adventures of buccaneers clad in leather and sporting eye patches. Kest¡¯s boorish accent. Pirate¡¯s Lookout. Fact and fiction, memory and myth tossed around in her mind. Her apprehension toward the sea came biting back.

    The storm inside Ad¨¦lia¡¯s head was calmed by one particular memory of her father. It had been the day Menkalinan took her to Pirate¡¯s Lookout to watch the ocean. There was an overcast sky. Clouds loomed overhead and the wind skited freely. The sea raged restlessly. On the way home, Ad¨¦lia seemed skittish and jittery.

    ¡®What is wrong, my dear?¡¯ Menkalinan asked. There was true gentleness and concern in his voice.

    ¡®Is Luneder safe?¡¯ she asked without preamble. Her eyes remained fixated on the ground.

    Menkalinan stared blankly at Ad¨¦lia for a moment. Realising what her concern was, he sighed easily, the way he did before a story.

    ¡®My dear Ad¨¦lia, look around,¡¯ he began. ¡®Gohenur protects Luneder like a watchful guardian, like¡­¡¯ he stopped for a moment, reaching for an example. ¡®Like Lanurel watching his lover¡¯s city until he could meet her again.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia raised her eyes and looked at the forest in the distance.

    ¡®The lands itself guards our village,¡¯ he continued. ¡®The hills and valleys, all. So there is nothing to fear.¡¯

    ¡®What about the sea?¡¯ Ad¨¦lia gazed at her father intently.

    Menkalinan paused. ¡®Well¡­ the sea is wilder, I admit,¡¯ he said. ¡®But I have an old friend who loves the sea. He says the sea may not transgress its boundary. It may froth and flail, but like a caged lion it will not overcome its borders. I think there is wisdom in that.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia looked at her father again, the fear in her emerald eyes seemingly placated by his words. In truth, she was not entirely convinced, for even a caged lion could still be terrifying. But she felt safer. And she wished to change the subject. ¡®Tell me the story of Lanurel again, father,¡¯ she petitioned.

    ¡®Certainly¡­¡¯

    Her father¡¯s words trailed into obscurity as Ad¨¦lia¡¯s focus returned to the present. A distant clutter and a spark somewhere behind her distracted her. Kest was doing his job, it seemed. She turned to the vessels once more. The docks seemed to bustle with activity but they were too far away to make out any definite shapes.

    The sea may not transgress its boundary but one who strides the sea may use it to terrible advantage, she thought. If one were fearless and perhaps foolish enough to rattle the lion¡¯s cage¡­ he would be a force to be reckoned with. With such grim thoughts in mind Ad¨¦lia ran the length of the parapet as the spear dimmed and the fire roared.

    It was with much trepidation that Ad¨¦lia climbed down into the furnace of Luneder¡¯s streets once more. With the path behind her swallowed by flames, she had no choice but to move forward. She ran on through alleys and past marketplaces. Here where Luneder was customarily busier, signs of carnage were everywhere. Bodies lay broken and mangled. Wares and goods were strewn about. And always the starving fire devoured body and building without being satisfied.

    Ad¨¦lia could now see Pirate¡¯s Lookout in the distance, a sign she was nearing her home. She kept her eyes on it like a beacon. It saved her from looking around at the slaughter and breaking down in tears. With each step closer, the fear in her stomach tightened. What would she do? What could she do?

    ¡®Astera lutheneth!¡¯ Without warning, a loud voice pierced all. Authoritative and commanding, it echoed through all of Luneder. For an instant afterward, all noise was drowned and feeling faded away as if the whole world had stopped. Then, brightness far outshining the meagre light of the fire burst and engulfed Ad¨¦lia¡¯s vision. She shielded her eyes as the surge knocked her to the ground.

    Ad¨¦lia lay dazed for a moment, but something about the commanding voice stirred her into action. It was her father¡¯s voice. She had never heard him so livid or so loud before. But it was unmistakeably him.

    The outburst had come from the direction of the docks, so Ad¨¦lia decided to head that way. She was unsure what caused the deluge of light or what had made her father yell those words, words which made no sense to her. But she was determined to find him. As she ran toward Pirate¡¯s Lookout, she noticed the spear glowed white-hot in her hands, brighter than she had ever seen it. It was as if something had fanned the flames inside the spearhead.

    Ad¨¦lia quickly realised that the spectacle which just took place would surely attract the attention of most of the pirates that were scattered throughout Luneder. So instead of heading down the thoroughfare toward the docks, she crept through more alleys and passages. Curiously, the spearhead dimmed dangerously low. Like a short-lived candle, the earlier glow gave way to an unsteady flicker. The erratic nature of the weapon confused her, but at least now there was almost no danger of being spotted while sneaking toward the docks.

    Through fear and fire, Ad¨¦lia reached the dock district. Ahead, she could see the last portion of an alley giving way to a large clearing. In front of her the dappled cobblestones were replaced by long planks of dark wood; this was the huge central pier that formed the hub of the Luneder docks. Beyond it stood Pirate¡¯s Lookout, solemn and silent. Its rough stones seemed to flicker in the firelight. Looking over the tower, Ad¨¦lia saw that the vanguard rooms stood empty and dark. Pirates patrolled the steps leading out of the tower. Another mystery solved. No alarm had sounded to warn the residents of Luneder because the main watchtower had been infiltrated. But the question remained as to why no one had seen the ships approach.

    From her vantage point, Ad¨¦lia could see the pirate vessels more clearly. Whereas from the northwest wall she could only make out a tangle of wood and sails, she could now see five distinct ships. A small fleet. Each boat was huge and imposing in its own right, but one stood clearly above the rest. The central ship, flanked by two on each side, was unlike its partners. It looked ancient, its sails tattered and its wood beaten and specked with marks of age and battle. It reminded Ad¨¦lia of the Haunted Oar, a ghostly pirate ship from her father¡¯s stories.

    But for all its worn appearance, the galleon was impressive. Its main mast stood nearly as tall as Pirate¡¯s Lookout itself, giving the watchman in the crow¡¯s nest superb surveillance of the area. Cannons lined the hull all around. The prow featured a prominent metal snakehead, which Ad¨¦lia guessed was not simply decoration. A similar motif appeared on the sails. A red sea serpent splashed against a black sea.

    Ad¨¦lia looked around the docks to see the source of the commotion earlier. She could make out a few shapes scattered throughout the wooden clearing. Some were sprawled on the ground motionless, but they were not from Luneder. Had the bright flash earlier knocked out some of the pirates? The scene was remarkably still. If there had been a conflict here, it was now over.

    Her gaze landed on an imposing figure whose back was turned to her. He wore a tattered coat that bore a marked similarity to the texture of the central vessel. Upon his head was a triangular leather hat, complete with a thick ashen plume. A large halberd was in his right hand, forged of black steel. He had his foot on something and seemed to be speaking. Then the something underneath stirred. Ad¨¦lia caught a glimpse of it. It was her father.

    Undeterred by fear or caution she crept speedily to get closer. As she did, their conversation became audible. She strained to hear them but their words were barely more than indistinct murmurs. Ad¨¦lia risked approaching even closer, using whatever she could find as cover; barrels, crates, bits of fence, and other objects. There was a marked lack of fire in the docks, meaning no light would give her away.

    Ad¨¦lia inched closer. She heard her father speak.

    ¡®Silnod¨¬r,¡¯ he said. His voice was strained and weak.

    There was no reply at first. Only a taut silence like the moment before a predator pounces on its prey.

    Then a dark voice laughed hoarsely. ¡®That skyborne brat is not going to be pleased,¡¯ it said blankly, as if to itself. The voice bore through her like seawater through stone.

    The figure pressed his foot down against Menkalinan¡¯s chest. Menkalinan whimpered. The cries of her father in that moment hurt more than anything Ad¨¦lia had experienced throughout her ordeal. Ad¨¦lia had to bite back a cry and with all she had restrain from jumping out of cover. She turned away and clenched her eyes shut.

    Footsteps. Someone else approached. A misleadingly placid and composed voice broke the air.

    ¡®You have our thanks, Merenor,¡¯ it said with mock courtesy. It emphasised the last word with a mixture of playfulness and disgust.

    Ad¨¦lia recognised it. It was the same voice that had spoken to Kest. It was the same voice that had spoken to her father earlier today. It was Umar.

    Ad¨¦lia¡¯s self-control broke. Her anger and bitterness won over caution and dismay. She came out from behind her cover, spear clutched tightly in her hands. She screamed.

    ¡®No!¡¯ was all she could say. She breathed heavily and tears flowed freely.

    Umar turned to her first. A look of recognition passed his face. ¡®Ah, the dove,¡¯ he said with chilling calmness. He looked at her with the same impassive colourless eyes as when they met.

    Ad¨¦lia scowled with a face of pure poison. She eyed him with emeralds filled with venom. Then she looked at the pirate captain. He didn¡¯t stir. Menkalinan was motionless beneath him.

    ¡®My lord, should I¡ª¡¯ began Umar as he instinctively moved his hand toward his scabbard. But he was stopped by a motion from the other figure. The pirate captain raised his left hand to the side without turning. Umar halted to a standstill at the gesture.

    Ad¨¦lia could see the figure¡¯s left forearm was clad in a golden gauntlet. It reflected the distant fire behind them lustrously. She could only guess as to its purpose, since no such gauntlet was found on his right arm which still held the halberd firmly.

    The visage that turned to face her was barely human. Distant eyes the deep red of almandine gazed at her. They were impossibly deep and accentuated by the captain¡¯s white complexion. His skeletal appearance was framed by loose ashen locks and a beard like brittle coral. It was futile to guess his age or origin.

    ¡®So this is the one,¡¯ he said. The raspy voice crashed like restless waves.

    If Ad¨¦lia thought she knew fear before, it was like comparing an ant to an elephant. Sheer dread settled into her bones at the sight of the pirate captain. This was no storybook pirate, but a living phantom. With difficulty, she managed to pull her eyes away from his and look at her father who lay on the ground. He seemed to be searching for her as well.

    ¡®N-no¡­ A¡­ Ad¨¦¡­¡¯ Menkalinan sputtered.

    Ad¨¦lia could see the miserable state he was in, bloodied and bruised. Rage filled her anew, and boiling blood melted her paralysis. She screamed, pointed her spear, and rushed at the menacing figure.

    But before Umar could do anything to intervene, before Menkalinan could stammer a word of warning, and before the spear could get close to its mark, Ad¨¦lia was flying. For a moment she saw colours sail in the air with her. Flowers?

    With a move swifter than her eyes could follow, the pirate had struck her with the golden gauntlet, sending her reeling backwards. Ad¨¦lia landed hard. The breath was knocked out of her. Ringing filled her ears. Her spear fell nearby with a clutter. Scattered petals settled gingerly next to her.

    Without rising, she clutched at her chest. There was a tear in her garment and the flowers that she had hid were gone. She moved her hand up and winced. The entire area from her collarbone up to her chin was in pain. She touched her lip and felt blood. She lowered her hand and tried to regain her breath.

    ¡®You like flowers,¡¯ the pirate said matter-of-factly, but each word was a tidal wave. He bared his teeth in an inhuman grin. ¡®If only you could gaze upon the rose gardens of Sheneh-Adrani.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia was still staggered and could not make sense of the pirate¡¯s reference. She felt very small and weak. She realised how she must look. A bruised, battered, and burned little girl foolishly facing off a pirate, a killer. Suddenly, she heard a set of heavy, excited footsteps not far off.

    ¡®It¡¯s done, cap¡¯n!¡¯ yelled Kest. ¡®The town¡¯s done fer!¡¯

    ¡®Good. We move,¡¯ said the captain. He turned to Menkalinan once more and took the halberd with both hands.

    Ad¨¦lia heard the metallic sound and saw the upraised weapon. She knew what came next. She tried to move. Everything hurt. She tried to stand. All her limbs failed. She saw the pirate standing above her father with halberd held high. Then it came crashing down like merciless lightning. For a moment the entire world was deafeningly quiet, but Ad¨¦lia could not tell whether it was only her scream which had drowned everything in sorrowed silence. She screamed until her throat burned.

    The pirate moved aside. Menkalinan was still, impaled by a cold black bar that reached skyward. The pirate placed his hands on the weapon and jerked. The body moved limply as the halberd came out. The pirate¡¯s cold efficiency was eerie, delivered like a well-practiced line in a play.

    As he turned to go, a chilling sound filled the air. A soft voice rose hauntingly as Menkalinan began to sing.

    A curse intended for the purest dove

    Descended forth from evil¡¯s stake

    A noble sacrifice and truest love

    Displayed this wretched bane could break

    A fearful whim arrayed in gilded glove

    Demands relentless life would take

    A newfound strength and guidance from above

    Defeats the crushing grip of ache

    The words rang distantly and settled close by. The melody rose with the lightness of wind and fell with the heaviness of mountains. The notes danced with the lively energy of butterflies and brooded with the melancholic stillness of the forest. Encapsulated in the song¡¯s cadence was all the life and light that words could capture. And at the end, Menkalinan breathed his last as a smile broke out on his face. The music lodged itself in the minds of all present. The spearhead¡¯s light flickered, faded, and died.

    No one moved for a long time. Nothing stirred for time uncounted. Kest rudely broke the reverent silence.

    ¡®Bloody ¡®ell, what was that all about?¡¯ he swore.

    ¡®That,¡¯ intoned the pirate captain, ¡®is proof we have done what we needed to do.¡¯

    ¡®And the girl?¡¯ asked Umar, turning his gaze to Ad¨¦lia.

    ¡®Let her live.¡¯ The gracious words were spat cold and uncaring.

    ¡®But my lord,¡¯ began Umar in protest. ¡®If I may speak out of line for a moment. Is that really wise? You yourself have said ¡®An informed peasant is more dangerous than an ignorant prince.¡¯¡¯

    ¡®I did say that,¡¯ said the captain, a hint of pride flavouring the dull voice. ¡®But I am also a man of my word.¡¯

    When he turned to face Ad¨¦lia, she was already standing weakly. She reached for the spear and braced herself. Every muscle hurt but she held on. As the pirate walked toward her with cold determination, she staggered forward.

    Her spear of extinguished light faced off against the pirate¡¯s dark weapon. The weapons clashed, but there was no contest. The pirate¡¯s polearm was no wooden spear. The weighty lance of black steel and silver knocked the spear away like a twig.

    Ad¨¦lia scampered backwards, too weary to know where she was retreating, too teary-eyed to see. She stumbled over cluttered wooden objects and fell. The pirate stalked lazily and then placed his boot on her chest. She was immobilised. She tried to move and reach for her weapon in vain.

    The pirate lord seemed to concentrate for a moment with eyes closed. He held his weapon close. Ad¨¦lia thought she could feel a subtle hum emanating from the weapon. Then, with an almost imperceptible spark the halberd¡¯s tip started to pulsate with black energy. It distorted the air around it with innumerable shades of darkness.

    ¡®The next time we meet,¡¯ the pirate said coolly, ¡®this weapon will claim your life.¡¯

    With that, he pointed the halberd downwards and drove it into Ad¨¦lia¡¯s left shoulder. She had no time to even cry out. The pain bit through her, colder than anything she ever felt and then blackness took her¡­

    Ad¨¦lia awoke under a granite sky. The pit-pat of rain stirred her to consciousness. The leaden clouds hung close and heavy.

    She tried to look around. She moved like lead, but she slowly got a look at her surroundings. The pirates were gone. The vessels were gone. The fire was gone. How long had she been out? Hours? Days?

    She tried to rise, but a pain shot sharply through her left shoulder and into her chest. Her heart was as heavy as stone. With the pain came memory. Faces and events came flooding back. The pirate captain loomed largest in her mind. The red of his eyes and the black of his weapon were indelibly seared in her head.

    The rain came down harder. For a long time, Ad¨¦lia simply lay there and listened. There was nothing to be heard but for the sound of raindrops bouncing off stone, ringing off metal, and falling on wood. She lay under the constant drumming of rain. Maybe the heavens wept for Luneder. Perhaps the deluge could cleanse her agony. She soaked in the rain, heedless of the chilling cold. After the endless fire she endured the rain came as a comfort.

    Ad¨¦lia did not know how long it took and she did not know how it happened, but she found herself wandering through Luneder, or at least what remained of it after the inferno. The buildings looked like bones jutting out of a charred carcass. The grey that settles in the air in the wake of rain enveloped the silent debris. Still she wandered on aimlessly. At some point she had found her spear, but it was cold and dead. Not even a ray or a flicker lit her way.

    Before long, Ad¨¦lia¡¯s instincts took her to her own home. She looked blankly at the destroyed remains of the house and her father¡¯s workshop. She walked to the door and pushed. It collapsed with a crash. Stepping inside, she saw the damage was catastrophic. The fire ate away most of the structure and now the rain sagged into the remaining bits of wood and stone. Streams of water blackened by ash and soot ran through the house and dirtied all they touched.

    Ad¨¦lia wandered through her home absently, not really looking for anything. But then she saw her mother. Cassia lay face down near a corner, still and silent. Her clothes were soiled with blood. Memories of her mother pierced her like shards of broken glass.

    Ad¨¦lia, I know you are a bit different.

    She drew nearer and collapsed on her knees near her mother. She did not turn her over. Ad¨¦lia wanted to remember her as perfect and beautiful. She ran her hand through Cassia¡¯s rich, auburn hair.

    You are an Amal¡¯ethar after all.

    ¡®Thank you, mother,¡¯ she said after a long time. ¡®The forest was wonderful.¡¯ Her words were drowned by the ringing minor melody of the drizzling fall.

    Ad¨¦lia.

    There in the seclusion of her house, under a forlorn sky with only the rain as company, Ad¨¦lia broke down with waves of thick, wracking sobs. At the same time, the wound on her shoulder opened up. Her blood flowed and her tears fell, red and black mingled on the ground.

    Ad¨¦lia clutched her shoulder. She got up quickly and turned her eyes away. She spotted Aresa¡¯s golden vase on the sill, blackened by the fire but still usable. Dronam¡¯s flowers were burned beyond recognition. She grabbed the vase and rushed out of the house in a blur.

    She ran out of Luneder. Her father¡¯s words came back to her.

    Gohenur protects Luneder like a watchful guardian¡­

    Ad¨¦lia turned toward the forest and sprinted. Her father¡¯s final song played in her mind. The rain fell in an allegro of a million teardrops.

 Chapter Five - Steel and Blood

    Asphales felt his body moving before he even comprehended what had just occurred. Someone nearby was shouting. Perhaps they were calling out his name. He could not tell. The dell spun around him dizzyingly while men moved to and fro in slow, muffled steps. Anfr¨¬r sagged heavily in his hands. But he knew he needed to move. He could feel death¡¯s cold stare locked on him if he did not.

    Only a stone¡¯s throw away, Maresh lay face down in the leaves. An arrow shaft protruded from the back of his neck. Gone was the guard¡¯s easy smile. Gone was his lively prance. Gone was his playful voice. Dead.

    A hand reached out to steady him. It grabbed Asphales and pushed him low with rough force. It was only when he felt the firm grip that he realised he was shaking. A voice was shouting again. Nearer this time.

    ¡®-hales! ¡­ Asphales!¡¯ it spoke. The sound was like liquid, like a violent, rushing river.

    Asphales came to. He looked to his right and saw Ser¨¬n¡¯s sky-blue eyes gazing at him with grave concern. His soft features hardened into a frown. ¡®You froze up, boy!¡¯ he said angrily. ¡®What¡¯s the matter with you? Get a grip! And get behind me!¡¯

    Asphales looked around. Beyond Maresh¡¯s lifeless form, shapes began to emerge from the trees. Over a dozen men stepped out, armed with glinting swords and daggers. A couple of them carried bows and were already notching arrows afresh. The men laughed. There was something achingly familiar about their appearance.

    He stumbled behind Ser¨¬n just as the guard raised a heavy shield. A flying arrowhead met the steel surface with a clang. The arrow landed harmlessly nearby. With shield steady and sword arm upraised, Ser¨¬n took a few careful steps backward.

    Moments later, a violent shout routed the company. ¡®To arms, men! To arms! Formations!¡¯ Ledner¡¯s commanding voice rumbled like the mountains. Asphales felt a chill. It was the same resounding voice he had glimpsed a few days earlier.

    In mere seconds, the company drew together, steel clanging with steel as the soldiers formed a wall with their shields. Readied weapons scraped against the metal. Even with the surprise of the ambush, the company¡¯s response was swift and their formation excellent.

    From behind Ser¨¬n, Asphales could see Valinos poised at the heels of another guard. He was drawing heavy breaths and his blade wavered unsteadily in his hands. His eyes focused coldly ahead of him. Asphales turned his gaze ahead and gulped. He tasted fear.

    A tense moment settled over the clearing. The Imperial company waited readily. No more arrows whizzed past. The enemy group had converged ahead of them but did not make further movements. Asphales noticed their curved weapons and strange attire. Dressed in light and creamy colours with only skimp pieces of armour for protection, the bandits would have the advantage of speed when it came to battle.

    A figure stepped forward from among the enemy group. He giggled as he moved in front of them. He carried himself with all the pompous swagger of a leader. The breeze ruffled his shoulder-length chestnut hair as he walked. Aside from his stride, the only thing setting him apart from the rest of the group was his billowing cloak, clasped at the shoulder with a bronze brooch.

    He squinted as he looked the company over. ¡®Only two?¡¯ he quizzed. ¡®What a shame. I was hoping we¡¯d pick more of you off before you caught on to us.¡¯

    The Guard did not stir. Asphales realised that only ten of the soldiers remained. Maresh¡¯s companion must have been killed beforehand.

    The leader drew nearer to the company. He stood only a few steps away from Maresh¡¯s body. He walked over, looked down in disgust, and kicked at the limp figure. Asphales winced.

    ¡®Not even two of the best!¡¯ he spat. ¡®The Empire mocks us. This is who they send? Where is Darius? Where is Lady Loveless?¡¯ He made a dramatic elongated gesture toward the heavens as he spoke with a voice like the soaring clouds. Asphales fumed, but none of the guards rose to the taunt and so he kept quiet.

    ¡®Am I right to assume it was you who felled our scout?¡¯ Ledner questioned.

    The leader drew out his sword. It sprung from its scabbard with a twang. It was curved like the others, with a single edge and a wide blade. The hilt was decorated in haughty gold. He touched the blade to his lips in a mocking gesture of thought. ¡®That sounds about right,¡¯ he said casually. ¡®Squealed like a pig, that one did. Stuck his horse, too.¡¯ He licked his lips as if savouring the memory.

    Ledner nodded. His eyes hardened. ¡®No more needs be said, then. You fiends are in our way.¡¯ Ledner finally unsheathed his sword. Asphales sighted the claymore that Ledner held with one hand. It was the grey of solid stone, undecorated and plain, yet it carried the same authority as the man himself. Its length reached high above the company¡¯s steel wall.

    The leader threw back his head in roaring laughter. ¡®We¡¯re in your way?¡¯ he boomed. ¡®You¡¯ve got this wrong. We have a task. It¡¯s to make sure you don¡¯t succeed in yours.¡¯ He pointed the blade at the company. ¡®And so,¡¯ he grinned, ¡®we can¡¯t let you get in our way.¡¯

    With those words eleven of the men sprung to action, rushing forward in a clamorous shout. They brandished their cutlasses and ran without restraint. Two men hung back and raised their bows. They drew their bowstrings and waited.

    ¡®Hold!¡¯ Ledner yelled. The company stiffened. Asphales braced for impact.

    The clash came like a thunderclap. Eleven blades struck ten shields with unflinching force. Though the enemy swords were lighter and the figures were less armoured, the unified impact slightly staggered the company. Ledner lowered his sword to try and connect with one of the men but the bandits retreated too quickly. Still the bowmen waited.

    The enemy forces ran forward a second time. But while the guards aligned their shields once more and raised their weapons, the bandits split suddenly and dashed around the company in an attempt to flank them. The momentary disarray that struck the company was all the opening the enemy needed. While some guards turned to the left and some to the right, the two bowmen released arrows into the fray. One found its mark and an Imperial soldier fell.

    ¡®Disband!¡¯ Ledner shouted. ¡®Slay the bowmen!¡¯

    At the captain¡¯s direction the soldiers disengaged the wall briskly and sprang forward, each after their own targets. The sudden movement caught one of the bandits unaware and he collapsed in a shower of silver and red. The others clashed sharply.

    Ser¨¬n, who had been guarding the outer edge of the wall, motioned behind him. Asphales drew nearer in the chaos.

    ¡®Stay here, but don¡¯t stay still,¡¯ he said without looking. ¡®Make me proud, boy.¡¯

    With that, Ser¨¬n dashed forward through the battle. Using the frantically moving shapes of men as cover, he ran to one of the bowmen near the leader and leapt with his sword drawn. His slender blade cut through bow and bowman. Ser¨¬n landed on top of the man and rolled away. The leader paced disinterestedly nearby.

    With his guardian Ser¨¬n out of sight, Asphales felt the paralysing fear settle in once more. He gauged the battlefield raging in front of him. The peaceful clearing had turned into a field of blood. The sounds of steel and rent flesh, the yells and shouts of men rose wildly. Guards and bandits fell slain all around him. He wanted to close his eyes. To stop his ears. To disappear from this place. But he could not. He shakily raised Anfr¨¬r in front of him.

    Only a few steps away, a bandit¡¯s cutlass cleaved through a soldier. Asphales realised the enemies were exceptionally trained. Even with minimal armour and unimpressive swords they were able to overwhelm the Guard. They sliced through narrow seams in their armour, took advantage of blind spots, and outmanoeuvred the company with agility.

    The Imperial soldiers tried their best not to be outdone. Asphales noticed one of the guards rushing for the remaining bowman. The bandit unleashed arrow after arrow which lodged in the guard¡¯s shoulders and arms, but the guard ran on unabated. He reached the panicked bowman and thrust him through as both men crashed lifeless.

    Asphales became aware of his frailty and weakness. He stared at the sword swaying in his hands. He gripped it tighter, hoping it would infuse some strength into his aching bones. He had not the courage or the skills of a soldier. Ser¨¬n¡¯s training had introduced the basics of combat, but in many ways each session only illumined how ignorant he was of warfare. And each moment of the battle playing out before his eyes shattered his preconceptions. There was no glory and no honour. Only stark necessity driving survival and death. Two sides of the currency of war.

    Suddenly, he saw the bandit¡¯s gaze land on him. All his thoughts fled like startled animals. He tried to slow his heavy breathing and pointed the sword menacingly at the approaching man. The bandit smiled.

    ¡®I bet you ain¡¯t never even held a sword, have you?¡¯ he teased.

    Asphales did not answer. He steadied his hand as much as he could and stared down the opponent. Be brave.

    The man laughed. ¡®Look, boy. You don¡¯t need to die here. Jus¡¯ come with us. All quiet like, no fuss. Otherwise I¡¯ll stick you.¡¯

    The bandit kept speaking, but his words sank into the background noise of the battle song. Then the bandit lunged with weapon upraised. Asphales felt the nauseating rush of battle. His pulse hammered at him. He angled his sword to meet the oncoming weapon. The bandit¡¯s cutlass scraped away unfulfilled.

    The practiced motions of Ser¨¬n¡¯s drills and exercises sprang to mind instinctively. Two steps back. Lean left. Raise sword to the right. Parry. Each movement came naturally as if from some hidden spring inside him. His warrior instincts were only infantile but they kept him alive.

    The notes of battle played as they should. Each metallic clang and crash came as expected. The bandit huffed and grunted in frustration, each of his blows missing Asphales¡¯ figure or greeting stubborn steel.

    Then the bandit feinted a reckless manoeuvre, catching Asphales unaware. The cutlass screamed towards his throat. Moving away with no time to spare, the blade licked his shoulder and drew a line of red. Asphales grimaced and threw a slash of his own that caught the bandit¡¯s forearm. He snarled in pain. Enraged, the man threw himself at Asphales, perhaps in hopes that the wound had dulled his reflexes.

    The moment rushed by in the span of a breath. Asphales caught the crazed dash. The killer intent in the man¡¯s eyes. The sharpened glint of the blade. He saw his opening. Some awakened impulse inside him moved his muscles in a single fortunate and flawless step. Asphales ducked beneath the bandit¡¯s swing and drove Anfr¨¬r with all the strength he could muster. The blade snuck underneath the bandit¡¯s breastplate and pierced with a crack. It lingered like the drawn-out note of a coda.

    The man collapsed on top of Asphales, sputtering blood. He dropped his weapon and struggled briefly. Asphales watched the man¡¯s life slip away. His eyes dimmed, cold and colourless. Still.

    Asphales rolled the bandit over and drew out his sword. Thick crimson liquid fed the daylight shimmering beneath the blade¡¯s surface.

    He felt sick.

    He shivered. His hands, numbed with cold, could not even feel the hilt he so tightly gripped. It was a long time before the ringing in his ears subsided and other sounds got through. Grim and gruelling was the music played in steel and blood.

    * * *

    A sliver of scarlet darted through the woodland tangle. It moved like the breeze. It moved with the familiarity of someone who belonged in the forest. It overturned nothing and upset none of the order of the woods. Each step was nimble yet determined. Every leap was graceful yet decisive.

    Signs of disturbance were everywhere. The dead embers of a bonfire. Discarded utensils. Broken arrow shafts. A body. All the tell-tale markers of a marauding band of raiders. The slender shape followed the blights on the serenity of the forest. They would lead to the offenders like breadcrumbs to a meal. The figure ran onward.

    * * *

    Valinos heard the order given to disband and engage. Ledner himself took charge and raced after one of the bandits, while another guard sailed straight toward one of the bowmen. On the other side of the clearing, Ser¨¬n took care of the other archer. The enemy leader seemed uninterested to engage in combat. He merely walked aloofly and gave indistinct commands. The man infuriated him. His pride and temerity dug into Valinos like nails. But he realised the man was dangerous. Ser¨¬n himself must have thought the same, for he drew back and took on other targets.

    Valinos focused on the situation at hand. A couple of men fell around him, collapsing in a heap of cloth and metal. The adrenaline kicked in as a bandit ran toward him with a cry. Fool.

    The intensity of the moment steadied his hand and quickened his stance. Valinos spun around the dashing bandit and brought his dark sword down against his back. A valiant attempt, but the unpractised motion only landed the blade away from its mark. Valinos retreated quickly and brought the sword up in a defensive stance that Ser¨¬n had shown him.

    The tottering bandit regained his balance and faced Valinos again.

    ¡®Feisty one, aren¡¯t you?¡¯ he said. ¡®Won¡¯t do you much good tryin¡¯ moves like that before you¡¯ve even got your feet wet.¡¯

    Valinos scowled at the bandit but said nothing.

    ¡®It¡¯s a shame we¡¯ve been told not to kill you, boy,¡¯ the man said. His face scrunched into disgust. ¡®It¡¯s your type I like to kill best. Angry and smug. Lonely and feelin¡¯ like the whole world owes you something.¡¯ The bandit grinned madly. ¡®Am I right, boy? You just want to leave your mark in this here life. Your fear is being abandoned and forgotten.¡¯

    Valinos tried not to react to the man¡¯s taunting words. Anger boiled within him. It raged like a storm. It thundered silently and threatened to break. The hatred formed a thousand unspoken words inside him.

    ¡®But see, even though they said they wanted you alive,¡¯ the bandit intoned madly, ¡®they never said how alive.¡¯

    The words made Valinos shudder for an instant, and the bandit took advantage of the momentary halt. He yelled and swiped with the cutlass, each swing a note of madness on the score of battle. Valinos parried and dodged as he could, channelling his anger with every move. He tried to get his own thrusts in but the bandit avoided them with ease. Occasionally, the assailant¡¯s sword scratched his breastplate.

    Valinos felt frustration welling within him. Ser¨¬n¡¯s training had not been enough. That blond prankster should not have wasted it on his games. He needed more skills, more strength, and more time in battle to take on these enemies. He railed against his own weakness and lack of preparation. His icy topaz eyes cooled with each slash.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    The bandit laughed. ¡®I don¡¯t know what they see in you, boy, but they want you to come with us. Maybe you¡¯re the lost son of a lordling of some sort, ¡®cause you sure prance with the same self-righteousness. Them types tend to get burned. So cool down and stop fighting for your own good.¡¯

    Valinos¡¯ anger burst. Rage fuelled the sword and nourished his hands. In a flash, the bright steel cut through the bandit¡¯s defences and rested at his neck. The bandit¡¯s eyes shot wide with panic.

    ¡®What do you know of me?¡¯ Valinos asked coldly. The blade sang. The tune was red. The music was sweet.

    The man fell clutching at his throat with reddened hands. He splayed onto the leaves with a heavy thud. Autumn¡¯s colours smeared with deep crimson. Valinos let the blade rest at his side, its thirst for blood quenched. He caught his breath, not from exhaustion but from the realisation of what he had done. And from the fact that he did not find it entirely unpleasant.

    He gazed at the bloodstained blade and his chinked armour. He ran a finger absently over the cracks. Valinos recalled the long hours in Paran¡¯s armoury, forging and shaping the metal. In the seclusion of the workshop, without the experience of the wider world, it was hard for him to imagine what happened with Silnod¨¬r¡¯s weapons and armour export. The wars that his town funded and the weapons it provided were problems far removed from his everyday experience.

    But now he saw it. He was in the middle of it. The vestal weapons and armour he created had been tempered and tested by real battle. Valinos could not help the pride that filled him. And with the pride came a hunger for more. For all that the dead bandit¡¯s words had taunted and angered him, there was a ring of truth to what he said. Valinos looked around at the slain men spread across the dell. He would not die here. Not until the world knew his name.

    Questions irked him again. The dead man confessed he was not the target, at least not for assassination. That was unsettling. He was sick of mystery. He was sick of deceit. He was tired of groping around in darkness, following blindly with no discernible direction. Valinos turned to the leader and seethed. He stormed toward him, intending to get answers. A reckless venture perhaps, but he had had enough of the unknown.

    As he walked toward the leader, Valinos noticed Ledner stepping in the same direction. The captain practically waded in blood, so many were the stains on his armour. He had lost his shield, but he worked his sword efficiently. The dull grey blade slew two more bandits in one fell swoop. The broken bodies caved like crumpled puppets. Valinos stood impressed by the man¡¯s strength and command of his weapon.

    The leader finally took notice and stepped forward, curved sword in hand. For once something other than boredom and disgust coloured his vain agate eyes. He flicked the hair out of his eyes with a smug look.

    The two men circled each other slowly, each warrior sizing his opponent. Valinos could only watch. He realised a duel begins long before any weapons clash. Their fight commenced with the tense silence that linked their gazes like a coil of iron wire. Before words were spoken there was the violent hush that settled between the two men. An invisible cage locked the two combatants in its bars. And only death would open it.

    ¡®Has the mutt come begging?¡¯ the leader asked harassingly.

    ¡®Even a dog can cause some damage,¡¯ Ledner said between panting breaths.

    ¡®What can you do?¡¯ the leader taunted. ¡®You are hardly worth my time. I find it undignified to kick at dogs.¡¯

    Before Ledner could reply, Valinos took a single step. He immediately felt the tension. He had walked inside the warriors¡¯ arena.

    ¡®Stay back, boy,¡¯ Ledner barked.

    ¡®For once the runt speaks some sense,¡¯ the leader said in reproach. ¡®This really isn¡¯t your place.¡¯ His eyes shifted to meet Valinos. ¡®But stay put, child. I¡¯ll deal with you later.¡¯

    He froze. There was more condescension and disdain in that single gaze than all the suspicious glares of Silnod¨¬r. He sensed the infinite pride that rumbled behind the leader¡¯s eyes, the sense of entitlement that surpassed that of royalty.

    ¡®Run,¡¯ Ledner said. ¡®Get away from here. I¡¯ll never let them take one of my own company! Go!¡¯

    Valinos stepped backward. But his foot had hardly landed before the leader closed the distance with lightning speed. His agile step kicked leaves up into the air. Then, in a single swift motion, he sliced the back of Valinos¡¯ leg and struck his head with the hilt of the sword. The helmet rang deafeningly.

    Valinos collapsed with a scream. The clearing spun around him and a sharp pain pricked every slight movement. Disoriented, he could not even direct his arms to the cut on his leg for comfort. He opened his eyes and tried to focus them. Blurry figures drifted.

    ¡®Now, you won¡¯t be going anywhere.¡¯ The leader¡¯s muffled voice spoke through his dizziness. It seemed to emanate from everywhere at once. Valinos tried to crawl away, but the cut complained with every inch he moved. And so he stayed put, inert and helpless. He threw off the constricting helm with a clang.

    The leader turned expectantly to Ledner, as if to prove a point. ¡®Can you defend your own? Can you keep up with me?¡¯

    ¡®The haughty light is snuffed; and what awaits the proud eye but the darkness of the sword?¡¯ Ledner recited dryly.

    ¡®Don¡¯t presume to think that quoting literature will improve your standing, dog. I grow tired of your incessant barking.¡¯

    Both figures sprang off the mounting tension toward each other. Ledner¡¯s heavy sword came down with mountainous force. The proud man raised his lithe blade with windy fury. The peal came like the breaking of the clouds.

    There was tightness as the blades hung suspended between their gaze. Then the figures rebounded only to lash out a second time. And a third time. And a fourth. Each crash resounded and screeched. Ledner was angry stone. The other man was violent wind.

    Valinos watched the duel though his head throbbed and his leg ached. He saw the true danger lying in the arms of the proud leader. He had strength comparable to his speed. Somehow his feeble weapon could hold off the captain¡¯s greatsword. Valinos noticed well-trained muscles bulge and tense with every collision. His footing was immaculately placed to meet the captain¡¯s assault.

    Ledner¡¯s discipline was evident also. He baited moves and attempted to retaliate. Each time his blade would swing just shy of its mark. Valinos wondered whether it was the size of the thing or simply the exhaustion that surely corroded the captain¡¯s reactions.

    Eventually the blade connected. In a misstep, the proud man outstretched his sword arm but Ledner was already gone. With a spin, the captain brought the greatsword down. The leader had only enough time to raise his weapon over his head for protection. The weapons clanged. Due to his awkward position and lack of balance, the leader came crashing down into the leaves. But before Ledner could land the killing blow, the man darted in a series of acrobatic motions. His cape trailed like an afterimage.

    An angry glint flashed in the leader¡¯s eyes. The wounded pride frothed beneath his glare. He shook his cape roughly, as if the dirt and leaves were an affront to his dignity.

    Then his stance changed. His attack patterns shifted. The slashes came in relentless flurries, each one seeming to begin before the last completed. Overwhelming agility kept Ledner on the defensive. The captain struggled to deflect each strike.

    Suddenly, there was a break in the relentless sound. The leader¡¯s blade had cut through. Valinos gasped as he saw the captain¡¯s sword fall away heavily. One more move and it would be over.

    Valinos strained to understand what happened next in the space of a couple of blinks. Before the man¡¯s sword could cut a final time, Ledner gripped the leader¡¯s cape with his now empty right hand. Valinos noticed it was horribly deformed. The previous slash had torn away part of Ledner¡¯s palm and severed a few fingers. The bandit leader struggled to move free but the captain¡¯s grip held. With his left hand, Ledner drew a dagger from his belt. The leader twisted hard to avoid the attack. Before Ledner tumbled clumsily, he managed to raise the dagger in one hard motion.

    There was a sickening squelch. Blood and hair sailed into the air. The leader shrilled. Ledner fell. Valinos almost felt the satisfied smile as the other man recoiled in pain.

    ¡®You rotten mutt!¡¯ he shrieked. The cutlass dropped. He plunged to the ground with jerky spasms and hands clawing at his face. There was a ceaseless gush of red.

    Both men lay on the ground. Ledner was still. His breastplate bobbed rhythmically with hefty breaths. His right arm rested idly on his hip. The leader rolled around in agony. He spat and cursed.

    When he rose, Valinos saw the damage. The right side of the man¡¯s face was a bloody mess. A long gash extended from his cheek to his forehead. A fleshy wound festered where his eye should have been. There was a gap in his chestnut hair. Pure malice coloured his remaining eye.

    He eyed his prey. Stepping slowly and determinedly, he circled the fallen captain. The leader stepped on Ledner¡¯s left hand until the dagger dropped. He bent to lift it and looked at the bloodied blade with hatred.

    ¡®Allow me the courtesy of returning your wretched words and your knife,¡¯ he said. ¡®And when you greet the gods beyond the starry veil, tell them Shurun¡¯el sent you.¡¯

    The dagger came down cold and hard. It pierced through cracked metal. The leader held it down firmly above Ledner¡¯s heart. The captain moaned and jerked. He went limp and calm.

    Valinos turned away. His head had cleared a little from the blow but it was filled with the smog of loss. The pain in his leg faded briefly but his limbs burned with the desire to run. The captain was dead. What hope was there for their company now?

    ¡®Ha, that was poetic if I say so myself,¡¯ the man who called himself Shurun¡¯el said. ¡®You damned Anarda?ans and your prophetic irony.¡¯

    Valinos spun. He saw Shurun¡¯el looking down at Ledner¡¯s body. Shurun¡¯el cursed him once more and then began to wipe the blood off his face. With every tender touch, he let out a howl of pain. Shurun¡¯el remained standing, madly admiring his wounds.

    Valinos took the chance. He pushed at the ground hard. His leg resisted the effort to lift with overbearing pain. Valinos gritted his teeth and held his restless tongue. Eventually, he caught hold of his sword, planted it, and managed to rise shakily. He looked around. The clamour of battle was dying. Very few men were left standing. And to his grave concern, Valinos noted more men in the bandit¡¯s cloth than in Imperial steel. Ser¨¬n downed another man a stone¡¯s throw away. The blond guard spotted Valinos¡¯ drooping form. He threw a glance Shurun¡¯el¡¯s way. He understood.

    Valinos caught sight of Asphales on the other side of the clearing. His friend was sprawled on the ground, but alive. He seemed delirious. A body lay next to him. Valinos began to move. He limped carefully, avoiding pressure on his wounded leg. The cold steel dragged. Each step sent ice and fire through his limbs.

    * * *

    Asphales found himself staring at the sky. Clouds of white streaked the blue carelessly. A wind arrived and rustled the trees. The forest creaked with age like an old chair. Leaves blew about him, orange and red and brown specks against the pale distance.

    There was a disconcerting quiet. It was almost peaceful. But then he remembered. It was the calm of the wreckage after a storm.

    A shadow covered his sight. It took a moment for recognition to settle in.

    ¡®Asphales,¡¯ it called. The voice of winter. He remembered Valinos. His friend¡¯s familiar features coalesced above him. Long hair, dark as night, swayed gently. Thin facial hair of the same jet colour framed his mouth. It was set firmly and unsmiling. Eyes of topaz blue watched him. They were greyed by sorrow.

    ¡®Valinos?¡¯ he asked weakly. ¡®What¡¯s happening?¡¯

    ¡®We have to get out of here,¡¯ Valinos said. ¡®The company is¡­¡¯

    Asphales sat up. He spotted Anfr¨¬r lying next to him, bloodied. He looked to his left and saw the corpse. He scampered away in a panic. Valinos stepped over and offered a steadying hand. Asphales noticed a limp in his friend¡¯s pace. He saw the shredded trousers and the clean cut.

    Ser¨¬n bounded up toward them in that same moment. His neat hair was ruffled, the blond colour tainted with blood and dirt. His tired eyes were drained of their sky-blue tinge. One of his shoulder plates shattered and fell, leaving his bloodied flesh exposed.

    ¡®It¡¯s time for you to go,¡¯ he said hurriedly. ¡®Starlight preserve us, but what a mess we¡¯ve run into,¡¯ he added to himself.

    ¡®Who are they? What do they want?¡¯ Asphales asked.

    ¡®I wish I knew, boy,¡¯ Ser¨¬n said. ¡®But they¡¯re not your ordinary bandit gang, that¡¯s for sure. Now, up you get, time to move.¡¯

    ¡®I think Valinos is injured,¡¯ Asphales said as he stood up.

    Ser¨¬n looked him over and spotted the wound. ¡®That¡¯s not good,¡¯ he cringed. ¡®How will you¡ª¡¯ He cut himself off and looked around wildly. Not finding anything of use, he reached under his cuirass and ripped a part of the cloth.

    Asphales watched as Ser¨¬n squatted and wound the tattered cloth around Valinos¡¯ thigh. He did it quickly despite his wounded shoulder. Valinos flinched as the guard tightened the final knot.

    ¡®It¡¯s not a proper binding but it will have to do. Once you¡¯re safe, you need to clean the wound and do it up right.¡¯

    Behind Ser¨¬n, three bandits converged on the last remaining guard fighting. The man fell with shards of metal piercing him like vicious teeth. A dozen steps away, the bandit leader turned around. Half of his face seemed to be red. There was a body at his feet.

    ¡®Captain Ledner is dead?¡¯ Asphales asked in disbelief. It was barely more than a whisper. Shock and anger and guilt and sorrow gripped him with smothering force. They choked him.

    Ser¨¬n¡¯s face darkened. ¡®Yes,¡¯ he said, ¡®which is why you need to get out of here.¡¯

    ¡®What about you?¡¯ Valinos questioned. His tone was sharp.

    Asphales shot him a worried look. His jasper eyes rippled.

    Ser¨¬n cracked a smile, his usual cocky, knowing grin. ¡®Don¡¯t you worry about me,¡¯ he said. ¡®It has been a pleasure to be your master.¡¯

    ¡®Ser¨¬n, no!¡¯ Asphales pleaded.

    ¡®Second test, boy,¡¯ he said. ¡®Get out of here alive, make it to Fara¡¯ethar.¡¯ Ser¨¬n did not look at them. His voice shook. ¡®Please. Let me brave this storm alone.¡¯

    The bandits eyed the group and chuckled. They began to make their way over. The leader stepped near a tree and bent to pick up an object.

    Ser¨¬n turned to face the enemies. ¡®Go. Run for the trees. Head south. Follow the river.¡¯ He swung his sword in one of the complicated motions he had taught them days earlier. ¡®You know, you were my favourites of any recruits I¡¯ve had the pleasure to teach. Make me proud. Starlight guide you.¡¯

    Asphales faced away and left. It was the hardest thing he had ever done. He walked off with the heaviest steps he had ever taken. Valinos followed him in a rushed limp. They headed for the trees.

    As they neared the edge of the clearing, Ser¨¬n¡¯s melodious voice rose dimly. ¡®There once lived free a maiden fair, as wild as raging stream¡­ Ah, I have always loved that song.¡¯ His words faded away into faint music.

    They entered the tangle of the forest. The leafy canopy covered them like a shroud. Asphales welcomed its embrace. It hid him from the gloomy openness of the dell that shattered him. Away from the sun¡¯s constant gaze, he hoped the darkness concealed him. From the bandits. From the world.

    Asphales and Valinos trudged through the forest as silent and hurried as they could. The air was still. Asphales listened for the river. All he heard was the singing of Ser¨¬n¡¯s blade as it held off three other voices. He kept his eyes on the scattered trees ahead. There was no pattern to them. No guidance came from them. They were grave and grey like wayward tombstones. Their steps disturbed the silken silence of dead men.

    But soon there was only one set of steps where previously there had been two. Asphales no longer heard the distinct uneven walk of his friend. He turned and saw Valinos leaning against a tree, face tightened in pain. Teeth grit. Fist clenched. Asphales rushed back and offered his shoulder for support. He noticed the sweat. The bruise around his temple. The frustration in his eyes. Slowly, they moved again together.

    ¡®Damn it all,¡¯ whined Valinos under his breath.

    ¡®Don¡¯t worry,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®We¡¯ll get through this.¡¯

    The distant metal chant ceased. The quiet came like the snapping of a rope. Then a cry like a splash of water broke. Asphales knew. He brushed his cheek and his eyes roughly and picked up the pace. The tombstones loomed larger.

    Asphales went on. Light filtered ahead. The end of the woodland tunnel opened into brightness. Asphales caught a hint of purple. Directionless, he made for it. The tangling roots of the dense forest made walking with Valinos difficult. If there was another clearing or a tract of unobstructed land they could put more distance between them and the enemy. Perhaps they could use it to orient themselves to the river.

    ¡®Just a bit farther,¡¯ Asphales said. Valinos seemed to be drifting into unconsciousness. He moaned an indistinct response.

    Asphales pushed through a shrub and into the light. He was not sure what he had stepped into. It seemed a different world. When the stinging brightness cleared, Asphales was standing at the edge of a vast field of purple flowers. Tulips, he guessed. The meadow steeped gently into a hill. Purple covered the entire spacious area. The breeze shook the flowers gingerly, skirting them and setting them alight with motion. Over the hill he spotted more trees. Gohenur continued, but here the autumn brown gave way to evergreen. It was like standing on the edge of seasons, the flow of time distorted and confused.

    But the moment of peace was too briefly infinite. Asphales¡¯ reeling thoughts were shaken by the sight of a familiar figure. An unwelcome, threatening figure. Only a bowshot¡¯s distance away to his right, the bandit leader stood. Too close. Too soon. Too proud.

    Behind him, noise gathered like an approaching landslide. Running. Shouting. Laughter. Bandits. His thoughts accelerated. His head spun. Panic settled. Fear.

    He gripped Valinos more strongly and jogged toward the hill. It was a vain attempt. It was futile. He heard the sound of a drawn bowstring and the taunting silence that followed. This was the end. He knew it. He took in the tranquillity of the meadow. His mind was surprisingly clear.

    Then he felt a ripping, roaring pain. An arrow flew past and planted itself in the ground amidst the flower bedding. Asphales dropped Valinos and fell with a yelp. His hand drew instinctively to his right side. He fingered the wound and felt the blood flow. Fortunately, the arrow had not stuck, merely lacerated the flesh above his hip.

    He looked over and saw the leader with bow in hand. He did not look pleased. The wound was not enough. Asphales eyed Valinos, who lay among the flowers unconscious. The bandits took the cue and sprang out into the field, swords brandished and grins stretched. There were still three of them.

    Then Asphales heard a soft rumble rise over the hill. New footsteps dashed. Light. Firm. He looked up and saw an armour-clad shape leap into the fray. This was no member of the company. It was a knight. Shining with silver and glinting with gold, the armour looked like something out of Asphales¡¯ fantasies. Full helmet protected the knight¡¯s face. Intricate and ornate steel shielded the knight¡¯s body. A sword was sheathed at his side and he held a stately spear in hand. Was this a dream? Where had the warrior come from?

    The knight¡¯s movements were nimble. Fluid. Swift. The masked warrior battled the bandits with ease. It was as if he was stepping through the practiced motions of a dance. The knight handled the spear with careening grace. Blocking. Striking. The first bandit was thrust through in a blink. But even with the spear occupied, the knight wielded the shortsword with his free arm. The blade was an elegant thunderstorm. The second man fell to its silver allure.

    The last bandit tried to run. He sprinted and tried to warn the dumbstruck leader. ¡®Get away from here, sir, it¡¯s¡ª¡¯ The spear burst through him in a flash of red steel. His crackled voice ended.

    The leader scoffed loudly, cursed, and retreated to the trees.

    Asphales lay speechless. This was the way heroes in stories fought. This was the courage and the skill of legend. He blinked, almost expecting the knight to fade into his imagination and there to remain only the cold gaze of the bandits. A mirage. An illusion.

    The knight stared for a moment into the forest, then turned. He walked toward Asphales. Gently. Perfectly. His consciousness slipping, Asphales caught a last glimpse of the saviour. The knight took off his mask. No. Her mask.

    She was beautiful. Her scarlet curls danced in the wind. Her emerald eyes caught the radiant light with a solemn, wistful gleam. She stepped lithely amidst the tulip field. The flowers draped her in a violet cloak. She belonged perfectly. The colours were hers.

    Then he collapsed into black¡­

 Chapter Six - Dust and Starlight

    Asphales awoke to the sounds of the forest. The windswept murmuring of leaves and music of ancient trees droned on. The chirping of birds and chanting of bugs tuned methodically. It was a natural symphony, effortless as breathing, complex as the earth. He wondered whether perhaps all the woodland creatures played to an unsung key, and if there was an unseen conductor guiding them in harmony.

    Light trickled through wooden beams and cast playful shadows around the quiet chamber. The sounds outside carried on. The smell of oak and pine played about his nostrils. After he adjusted to the bright, Asphales realised he was laid on a bed. He felt the familiar cradling of a straw mattress and featherbed. Comfortable and snug, he was wrapped in milky silk and satin wool. He lay there, disoriented and puzzled. Where was he? How long had it been since¡­?

    There was a sharp prick in his side. It all came back. The clearing. The battle. He rose abruptly. The weight of twelve fallen men threatened to knock him down again. The company. Ledner. Ser¨¬n. His thoughts drifted to Valinos. There was also the woman clad in silver steel and purple he had seen in his last moments of consciousness.

    Asphales threw the sheets off himself and shifted to the side of the bed. It was then he noticed that his midsection and shoulder were bandaged. A faint streak of red bled through the wrapping above his right hip. His shoulder was bound tightly but it did not hinder his movements.

    He stepped on the wooden floor and took in his surroundings. The homely chamber was not very large, all of wooden boards and planks, but it was stuffed to the brim with cluttered furniture and objects. Paintings and weapons and rugs adorned the walls. Cupboards and cabinets and even an exquisite vanity rested around the room. A shovel, spattered freshly with mud, leaned nearby.

    But Asphales did not focus on them. He looked around the chamber for signs of Valinos. And of her. He spotted a makeshift bed in a corner.  Beneath a blanket he caught hint of black hair. Valinos. His racing mind slowed. He walked over to his friend and noted that he was still unconscious. Valinos shifted in uneasy sleep, face wrinkling in subtle twitches between bouts of calm. Asphales lamented the suffering dreams that no doubt plagued his friend. But he did not wake him. After what he had been through, he needed rest.

    Asphales sighed. Gratitude welled up within him. He felt a tension leave him, a weight that he seemed to have carried for too long. A strange sensation settled over him. It was a feeling he had not felt in a long time. Safety. Belonging. He had to find the knight among the flowers and thank her.

    He moved around the room slowly, gandering at the objects scattered with purposeful disorder. He first spied two swords rested in a corner. Their blades were streaked with blood. One of them was Anfr¨¬r. Asphales averted his gaze. It was not time to dwell on thoughts of war again. It was not time to walk through the gates of memory and into that dell once more.

    Nearby, a few bags were settled against the wooden wall. He recognised one of them as his own. In a blink of panic, he rushed to it and rummaged through the pack. His hands touched velvet. He drew out his book, On the Reign of King Ulm¨¬r. The faded words were as familiar as the creases in his palms. In the frantic commotion of the battle, Asphales had forgotten about his possessions. Thankfulness sprang up again. The knight had brought them back. Asphales wondered again how much time had passed until this moment.

    He laid the book back inside the pack and set it aside. He took note of his armour which lay in pieces next to the bag. But other objects caught his attention. In an inset on the wall, the knight¡¯s armour neatly decorated a mannequin. It was the same set of shining steel the woman wore. Beside it the silver spear rose triumphant. Up close, Asphales noted the intricate workings of its design and the beautiful and deadly shape of its spearhead. The knight¡¯s short blade also lay on its stand. Clean, unblemished.

    His eyes moved along the wall. A tapestry of muted colours hung loosely, countless interwoven threads telling an unreadable tale. Asphales¡¯ gaze landed on the unkindled hearth. He drew closer to make out a rounded shape on its sill. It was a vase. Perhaps it had been golden once. It looked blackened with ash and dulled with dust and age. Two painted characters stood poised for combat, but they too were charred by lingering black flame.

    A curious object took his fancy next. Above the fireplace, above a bookshelf, a spear sat suspended on iron hooks. It was small. Wooden. It may have been a trinket from the knight¡¯s childhood. But the craftsmanship proved this was no mere toy. The meandering swirls were skilfully engraved in the dark surface. And the spearhead was made of¡­ Asphales was not sure what comprised the marble-like material. It was clear and lustrous. And dim. There was something wrong with the spearhead. It lacked life and light. Asphales had never attributed such qualities to a weapon, but the object in front of him demanded it.

    A note rang out from somewhere distant. A woman¡¯s voice. Asphales¡¯ melancholic thoughts were halted. He listened for it again but it did not come. Asphales moved toward the doorway, but his gaze fixed on a couple of canvasses by a dining table. Two portraits peered at him, a man and a woman. The man had a hearty laugh, thick features captured in pastels of earthy colours. The woman was delicate. Her hair was a waterfall of rich auburn. And her eyes¡­ Green. Green as the forest and deep as a well. They struck him as the same eyes he had dreamily gazed into before the black took him.

    The note rang again. Clarion and sweet. Asphales pressed against the wooden door and stepped outside the cabin. A clear afternoon sun greeted him. He walked through daylight and saw the shape of the building. The lodge was nestled among the trees like a bird on its perch. It was comfortable. It belonged. The forest spread around it welcomingly. A garden grew around the cabin. Asphales spotted tulips and roses and lilies. Purple and red and yellow played in the sun. He looked around the encircling forest.

    He saw her.

    She was dancing.

    He stood taken aback.

    She moved among the trees.

    He watched her dance through sunlit strands of forest timber. He watched her spin and shuffle, turn and twirl. Every movement was perfect. Each pirouette met with approval from the woodland audience. Her scarlet hair followed her like the streak of a comet.

    He heard her.

    She was singing.

    He hearkened to her voice.

    She greeted the forest by name.

    He listened as she sang a melody more beautiful than anything he had ever heard. It lifted his soul and broke his heart. It carried him to mountaintops and plunged him into the deepening abyss. Her emerald eyes were alive with music.

    He was captivated. Daylight filtered through the branches and arrayed her in gold. Dappled sunlight clothed her with star-shine.

    There was a spark. Not the kind that sets ablaze a forest. It was not a reckless flame that burns selfishly and consumes. It was not one that burns out with undue temerity. It was one more fleeting and fragile. A flash like a shooting star that ignites a dream of what could be. An ineffable glint that fuels the heart¡¯s desire.

    Entranced by every detail, he took in all of her. Her presence, her movements. Her scarlet waves, her emerald gaze. She filled his thoughts and imagination in the indescribable and infinite way the sky above fills the expanse between horizons.

    She became a blur of sound and motion as her routine peaked into a climax. The movements of the forest put her in the limelight. The sounds of the atmosphere accompanied her. There was a graceful leap. A flawless landing. A longing note. A rending fade. A perfect finish. Silent applause.

    Their eyes met. Emerald and jasper locked to each other. The forest held its breath. She spoke no word. Asphales hoped to see at least a flicker, a dim reflection of the intrigue that overwhelmed him.

    But there was only emptiness. Deep. Wounded.

    It is said that the eyes are the windows to the heart. But her heart was like the hidden moon. In that moment, understanding brushed him. He grasped something of the great divide that yawned between his heart and hers. He sensed the insurmountable distance, like dust reaching for starlight. But still the spark shone, faint yet resilient.

    ¡®Who are you?¡¯ Asphales stammered, but his summer voice was resonant. Out of the thousand burning questions, that one crashed like a meteor.

    There was a long period of quiet. Asphales knew it was not because she did not understand. She was deciding whether he could be trusted with something as fragile and intimate as a name. Whether she would give that part of herself away.

    ¡®Ad¨¦lia Amal¡¯ethar,¡¯ she said. She spoke with a voice like flowers in the wind. Beautiful. Broken. Perfect.

    The name played like a soothing song in his mind. He tucked it away, gently and carefully as one would a newly-cut rose.

    ¡®I am Asphales Es¨¦linor,¡¯ he said.

    She gave an acknowledging curtsy, like a partner before a ballroom dance. But no dance followed. She stood expectantly.

    ¡®Thank you,¡¯ Asphales said with a slight bow. ¡®For everything you¡¯ve done for me and the comp¡ª¡¯ He bit off the word. There was no company left. ¡®If you hadn¡¯t come when you did¡­¡¯ His words trailed and his thoughts filled in the blanks.

    ¡®They were good men of the Guard,¡¯ said Ad¨¦lia. ¡®Were you with them?¡¯

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ he said, focused once more. ¡®Yes, we were on our way to Fara¡¯ethar.¡¯

    ¡®Why?¡¯ Her question was innocent as a blooming flower bud.

    ¡®I¡­ I don¡¯t know,¡¯ Asphales confessed. ¡®We were summoned. We came from Silnod¨¬r.¡¯

    A flash of pain crossed Ad¨¦lia¡¯s eyes. Asphales caught a glimmer of darkening emerald. And then it was gone. For a moment Ad¨¦lia had been a knight again. Strong. Imposing. But she was a princess once more. He noticed anew how well she fit in her dress of forest green. Supple light kissed her bare arms. Her shoulders were shrouded by frilly cloth the colour of the earth.

    ¡®We were attacked by those bandits,¡¯ he continued. ¡®Ambushed us in a forest clearing on our sixth day out.¡¯

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ she said. ¡®The intruders led by the one-eyed proud man.¡¯

    Asphales realised that was what was wrong with the bandit leader¡¯s face when he saw him earlier. The lesion had derailed his marksmanship as well, he thought. He wondered how the wound had happened. He shuddered at the memory and repressed it. He wanted to change the subject. Then a thought occurred.

    ¡®What day is it? How long have we been out?¡¯ he asked.

    ¡®It is about the sixteenth watch of Kingsdell,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia replied.

    Asphales¡¯ eyes widened. It was around midday Stonestell that the ambush occurred. He had been unconscious for over a day.

    ¡®And my friend is still¡­¡¯ he trailed, thinking of Valinos.

    ¡®Your friend? The boy with the broken heart? He is injured. He needs rest.¡¯ There was foreboding in Ad¨¦lia¡¯s tone.

    Asphales looked at her, puzzled.

    ¡®He mumbled while I carried him here. He speaks from here.¡¯ She motioned to her chest. ¡®He speaks cold venom and shattered glass.¡¯

    Asphales stared blankly. Who was this girl? How did she speak with such perception? What had she been through to know the hearts of people so?

    ¡®But I am glad to see you walking,¡¯ she said. The beginnings of a smile played about her mouth. Then it broke. Faded. ¡®Your wound was fortunate but still serious.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you again,¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®Do not worry about the rest. I buried the men of the Guard. Their spirits rest among the stars now.¡¯

    Asphales¡¯ face turned ashen at the reminder of their death. Their faces flashed by. Ser¨¬n¡¯s smugness. Ledner¡¯s stone firmness.

    Ad¨¦lia tilted her head slightly. ¡®You have never had someone die?¡¯

    The question caught him off-guard. The pent-up stress of the events he had suppressed unleashed suddenly, unwillingly. ¡®No! No, I haven¡¯t. Not before my eyes like that. I don¡¯t suppose you have?¡¯ he blurted out unthinkingly.

    The flicker in her eyes told him everything. She had suffered loss uncounted. He regretted his words. He saw pain and rage buried beneath the empty layers that screened her emerald eyes. It was only a sliver, a crescent moon on a dark night. But it was there.

    ¡®I¡¯m so sorry,¡¯ he said. ¡®I apologise. I didn¡¯t mean to say¡­ It¡¯s just¡­¡¯ He stopped. Words were in vain now, he figured. There was no way to justify his confusion and frustration.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    ¡®My village,¡¯ she said flatly. ¡®Twelve years ago. Pirates.¡¯ Her response was honest. Calm. But her words hit him with the force of a hurricane. He felt more foolish with every passing second. He thought of her living alone in the forest. He thought of the portraits inside the cabin.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ he said again. ¡®I lost my family, too. My father vanished at sea. My mother disappeared not long after that. I know my father is dead. But my mother¡­ I have no way of finding out.¡¯

    The thoughts were unpleasant. He did not know exactly why he had shared them. But Ad¨¦lia absorbed and processed them wordlessly. The forest seemed to grieve around her. With her.

    The silence grew like a dissonant chord around them. Asphales did not want to ruin this storybook moment. He wanted something to say. Anything. Anything that was not stupid, he corrected his own thoughts. But it was Ad¨¦lia who spoke first.

    ¡®Do you like stories?¡¯ she asked.

    Asphales looked at her. The lovely glinting of her emeralds returned. He wondered how something could be so pure and deep and perfect. ¡®I do,¡¯ he stated. Understated, he thought.

    Ad¨¦lia waved her hand in an indistinct motion. ¡®Do not worry about before. You spoke truly, unhindered. It is past.¡¯ She took a step forward. A beam of light broke from behind her and highlighted the redness of her hair. ¡®But I must apologise as well. You caught me unprepared. I was telling the forest my story. But in my village it was also conventional to share stories with those we meet for the first time.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s wonderful,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®Stories are the lifeblood of friendship and tradition.¡¯

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ she said. ¡®I found a book amongst the possessions I recovered. Might it be yours?¡¯

    ¡®It is,¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®Would you read for me and share your stories?¡¯ she demurred. Her tone was reticent. Shy.

    Asphales nodded. He ran back inside the cabin to bring out the book. He checked on Valinos. Still sleeping. He drew the volume from its pack and dashed outside. Ad¨¦lia had already shifted. She sat awaiting on a log. She was framed in golden light.

    Asphales found a place near her and opened the book. Ad¨¦lia was still and attentive. He began to read. She listened with childlike eagerness as the story rolled through tragedy and triumph. She did not interrupt, even though she revealed afterward the story was known to her. Asphales wanted to ask. But it was not the time for questions.

    Ad¨¦lia told tales of her own. She spoke of Lanurel and his struggles against the King of Stone. She moved through the lay of Lady Vildia and the Dread. The Spearheart. She recited fables and songs and records of heroes forgotten and villains forsaken. And she did it with passion as if from cherished memory.

    Asphales fumbled through other stories he had read. The exploits of Al¡¯ur the Wise. The courage of the Thirteen Nightriders. He uttered the few poems of the Salah¨¬n he could remember. He even attempted to sing the ballad he had heard at the Waypoint inn. Her voice swept in when she recognised the tune. It skirted around his, bouncing delicately just out of reach and yet entirely within it.

    They shared stories and songs until starlight circled overhead. One by one, the lights above gleamed to life until there was an audience of starry onlookers. A fire had sprung at some point to ward off the encroaching cold and light the stories told around them. Ad¨¦lia¡¯s eyes shimmered in the firelight, a stark and flame-tinged emerald. They sparkled as she spoke.

    But they never shared their stories. Not this first time. It was not right. When Asphales had drawn those painful words out of Ad¨¦lia it felt forced. Untrue. Their stories would wait for another time. Presently, Asphales was content for them to orbit each other like distant celestial bodies. Like stars that have not met.

    Storytelling may have gone on without end if not for Valinos¡¯ interruption. He staggered out of the cabin late into the night. The first hint Asphales caught of it was Ad¨¦lia¡¯s sudden silence and unyielding stare. He turned and saw his friend limping toward the fire. His walk was slightly firmer. But rest had not untightened his firm features. His face austere and sullen, Valinos eyed the campfire and spotted them. Asphales rose and ran to embrace him.

    ¡®Valinos, my friend, I¡¯m so glad to see you!¡¯ he said, almost blinking back tears. He released the embrace and held Valinos¡¯ shoulders. ¡®Paran raises his apprentices tough, doesn¡¯t he?¡¯

    ¡®Asphales,¡¯ he inquired, ¡®where are we? What has happened?¡¯

    ¡®We are still in Gohenur,¡¯ said Asphales unsurely. He turned to Ad¨¦lia, who nodded. ¡®It¡¯s late Kingsdell, my friend,¡¯ he continued. ¡®You¡¯ve been slumbering for over a day.¡¯

    Valinos¡¯ eyes narrowed. Irritated.

    ¡®After the attack yesterday, we passed out,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®The brave knight over here rescued us and tended to our wounds.¡¯ He motioned over to Ad¨¦lia. She stood politely.

    Valinos glanced at her briefly. But if he had any doubts he left them unspoken. Some of the tension seemed to leave him. ¡®You have my thanks,¡¯ he said. His voice was strained. Held back.

    ¡®It¡¯s thanks to her that you¡¯re walking again,¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®Where is Shurun¡¯el?¡¯ Valinos asked, unfazed by the comment. ¡®Where is the bandit leader?¡¯

    ¡®The man you call Shurun¡¯el is gone,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia called from the other side of the fire. ¡®He has escaped. It would be unwise to dwell on him any longer.¡¯

    Valinos darted an angry look. ¡®What do you know of it?¡¯ he lashed. ¡®The man slew our company. I will not let it rest. We have to leave this damned forest and get on with our business.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia did not retort. She lowered herself onto the log again. Asphales was prickled by the mounting tension. He glanced at Ad¨¦lia. She had closed off entirely. A clouded sky. A hidden moon.

    ¡®You will leave on the morrow,¡¯ she said calmly. ¡®But now you must rest and eat.¡¯ Her kindness came amid the broken.

    Asphales only realised then how hungry he had been. The stories had fed him for the last few hours but now he felt his empty stomach. It gaped empty and barren as a cave. ¡®That would be great,¡¯ he said with a smile. Valinos did not protest.

    Ad¨¦lia prepared a warm meal for the three of them. They ate wordlessly under a watching sky. The moon raced along the angled lights of the Lance, indicating the month of Lonoris. Asphales and Valinos returned to the cabin in preparation for sleep. Ad¨¦lia permitted them to sleep in the same beds they had recovered in. Asphales placed the volume in his bag and collapsed into the bedding, covering himself in the same silken sheets. He watched Ad¨¦lia briefly, who returned bowls and cups to the kitchen area. She walked out into the starlit forest. Sleep took him.

    Morning dawned without Ledner¡¯s rigid rudeness. Asphales arose sharply, disturbed by remnants of a dream. He cooled, collected himself and rose off the bedding. Valinos¡¯ bed sat empty. Asphales gathered his possessions. The bag. The armour. Anfr¨¬r. He sheathed the dirty blade, the bloodstains a reminder of the unpleasant, and went outside. Valinos waited, armoured and ready.

    Ad¨¦lia appeared between the trees. She was carrying a bundle wrapped in burlap. Asphales could not help but notice how the morning light heralded her approach. Birds sung as if to announce her presence. ¡®I will guide you to the river,¡¯ she called out in a clear voice.

    As Asphales and Valinos followed her through the forest, the rushing of the river rung like a bell. They cut through a tangle of bush and foliage and emerged on the banks of the Valarion. A boat rested on the shore. It certainly was not the vessel of his dreams, but Asphales nonetheless found it appealing.

    ¡®You will take the river south,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said. ¡®You will reach the coast in less than two days.¡¯ She came nearer to Asphales. ¡®Here, you will need this,¡¯ she said, holding out the burlap sack. ¡®Provisions for the journey.¡¯

    Asphales peered inside. Fruit and nuts, dried meats, bread, and cheese were bundled neatly. He thanked her.

    ¡®You will not be able to embark as you are,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said.

    Asphales realised the armour¡¯s weight would make the waterway trek difficult, if not impossible. He looked dejectedly at Valinos, who scowled. They removed their armoured plates and pieces and set them on the shore.

    ¡®Keep your swords,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said.

    ¡®I intend to,¡¯ Valinos intoned.

    Asphales and Valinos pushed the boat onto the flowing stream and hopped inside. There were oars prepared for directing the vessel and clever openings for placing provisions. The boat began to sail downriver. Asphales looked back. Ad¨¦lia was gone.

    Hours passed. The river¡¯s gentle current carried the boat steadily. Only minimal adjustments were necessary. The sun hung high and bright.

    Valinos brooded speechlessly, his eyes far away, his focus in another place. He thumbed his sword idly. Reddened muck scraped with each motion. Suddenly his eyes glinted and he moved. He dipped his bloody sword into the rushing river as they floated downstream. Valinos scrubbed at the blade. It shed a trail of sanguine silk.

    ¡®Gulren,¡¯ he said, drawing the blade out of the water. He raised the sword ceremoniously. The sodden weapon gleamed. He smiled. There was no playfulness in it. He sheathed the sword and did not speak again.

    Asphales reflected on the name. Blood-river. Its title was macabre. Dark. Filled with unresolved hatred. He wanted to ask about the unspoken hurt that seethed beneath the surface. Valinos had changed. But it was not a time for asking.

    Asphales realised he, too, was already a different man than the one who left Silnod¨¬r on that sunny Queenthell morning. It seemed an age ago. The quest had already rent him. Broken him. Reared the ugliness of the world. The realms contained in stories were left in tatters and tears. But still he clung on to their ideals and hope. For there was no sense to the turning of this world. Why did good men fall while wicked souls stood in mockery and gloating? What else can one do when the veneer collapses but to hope and strive and dream for a day when the gears of the world turned aright? It was not a day for asking. Today was a day for reflection. For remembering. For looking forward.

    All of a sudden, Asphales was near the hearth of the Woodland Waypoint again. Another place, another time. Far away¡­

    ¡®That was a fine rendition of The Eagle and the Fair Maiden,¡¯ Ser¨¬n said as he returned to the table and promptly picked up his cup of mead. ¡®If I can say so myself,¡¯ he humbly added. ¡®I couldn¡¯t help joining in.¡¯

    ¡®What will we do with you, the Troubadour of the Guard?¡¯ Maresh quipped. There was equal admiration and jealousy in his easy voice.

    ¡®Tie his hands and lock him up,¡¯ another guard offered. ¡®Keep him away from all the women. Every maiden within earshot¡¯s gonna have their eyes on him tonight.¡¯ Rueful jealousy.

    Ser¨¬n cracked a smile and flicked blond hair away. ¡®Does that make me the eagle?¡¯

    ¡®Watch that big head o¡¯ yours don¡¯t hit the door on the way out,¡¯ a guard said. Roaring laughter erupted around the table.

    ¡®I didn¡¯t know you had that sort of skill,¡¯ Asphales said, setting down his mug. The mead was bitter, but the company was sweet.

    ¡®Aye, I was a bard before taking the mantle,¡¯ Ser¨¬n said. ¡®And a trouper before that.¡¯ He pursed his lips as if remembering.

    Relu burst in on the conversation, pushing through some of the men to offer his hand to Ser¨¬n.

    ¡®That was splendid, my good man,¡¯ he said. ¡®Some of the old timers are saying they haven¡¯t heard the song performed so well ever since my grandfather opened this establishment oh-so-many years ago. Invited a band of travelling musicians from somewhere out east, the story goes. Rowdy bunch. Good for playing. Bad with coin. A regrettable shame. But it was a night to remember.¡¯

    Asphales wondered when the innkeeper had time for breath.

    Ser¨¬n made a placating motion that politely shooed the old man away. He turned to the table again and picked up his mug.

    ¡®Ah, it¡¯s been at least five-course since I¡¯ve told a good story through song,¡¯ he said wistfully.

    ¡®Is there any truth to that story?¡¯ Valinos asked. ¡®To the eagle who spoke with man-speech and wooed the maiden?¡¯

    ¡®Believe what you will, lad,¡¯ Ser¨¬n said. ¡®A good story may be true but that¡¯s not what makes it good.¡¯

    Asphales wanted to disagree, but left his complaints unsaid.

    ¡®With these crazy times, anything is possible, I¡¯d say,¡¯ Ser¨¬n concluded.

    ¡®All sorts of rumours are floating around,¡¯ Ledner filled in. There was a careful edge to his rough tone. ¡®Some defy explanation, but they may be nothing more than addled tales. Doesn¡¯t hurt to be careful, of course.¡¯

    ¡®Like what?¡¯ Asphales asked with piqued curiosity.

    ¡®I¡¯ve spoken to men who swear they¡¯ve seen chariots in the sky,¡¯ Ledner said. ¡®Good men. Trustworthy. Makes me think twice about what¡¯s out there.¡¯ He glanced past the tavern¡¯s walls.

    ¡®And think,¡¯ Ser¨¬n jumped in, ¡®if there could be an army of sky-sailing soldiers¡­ It would make warfare a lot trickier.¡¯

    The conversation lulled gloomily. Guards sipped quietly. The background tune drifted through them, filling in the silence.

    ¡®I wish these string-pullers could play the Lay of Lanurel,¡¯ Ser¨¬n said suddenly. ¡®Aye, now that would be a treat.¡¯

    ¡®Who is Lanurel?¡¯ asked Asphales.

    ¡®A paragon,¡¯ Ledner chimed. ¡®An exemplar of the old adage ¡®Tread heavily but travel light.¡¯ He changed the world with naught to his name but his sword.¡¯

    Asphales felt the excitement of a story rush through him. ¡®What did he do?¡¯ he questioned.

    ¡®He¡¯s the old hero who¡¯s supposed to have taken on the Stone King ages and ages ago,¡¯ a guard piped up.

    ¡®Aye,¡¯ Ser¨¬n said, ¡®but it¡¯s the song that lasts, man. A song of beauty and difficulty unlike anything you¡¯ve heard. Nearly broke my lute trying to learn it many years ago.¡¯ Ser¨¬n¡¯s praise continued. ¡®Seventy-six ardent and taxing stanzas. Written by G¨¦leden herself. And they say she was more beautiful than the songs she penned.¡¯ He pointed significantly with his mug. ¡®I would¡¯ve liked to have met her,¡¯ he added with a wink.

    ¡®Perhaps if you were something like four centuries older you might have,¡¯ a guard jested. The men laughed.

    Ser¨¬n shrugged and returned to his drink.

    ¡®And is the story of the Stone King true?¡¯ Asphales found himself asking.

    ¡®Travel west, boy, and you¡¯ll see,¡¯ Ledner said. ¡®There is nothing there but dead stone.¡¯ He let his words fade ominously.

    Asphales retreated to his own thoughts. He looked into his mug. The mead swirled unattractively. He wanted to lighten the mood once more. ¡®So what is an understudy, Ser¨¬n?¡¯ he asked. ¡®You appointed me to it. Is that a real rank? Will I get my own company soon?¡¯

    Ser¨¬n nearly spit a mouthful of mead in laughter. ¡®Sorry, boy. I was teasing. You¡¯ll have no such fortune, I¡¯m afraid. And besides, a company is not even the most impressive thing you¡¯ll see on this quest.¡¯ He eyed Ledner. Asphales turned to the captain.

    ¡®He¡¯s right,¡¯ Ledner said. ¡®A company is a small unit, merely twelve-strong. If you really like dreaming of war, you¡¯ll want a mane. A legion of a thousand men. Commanded only by the best. By an Amarant.¡¯ He said the last word proudly, respectfully.

    ¡®And none of us are that,¡¯ Ser¨¬n supplied lightly.

    Asphales¡¯ eyes lit up. ¡®How many Amarants are there?¡¯

    ¡®Usually there¡¯re four,¡¯ Ledner said. ¡®One each to command the infantry, the cavalry, the archery, and the naval units. The four manes.¡¯

    ¡®But Amarant Darius alone holds command of two manes,¡¯ Ser¨¬n cut in with trepidation. ¡®There¡¯s also Nadros the Ageless and Catena. Some call her Lady Loveless. They say she¡¯s never loved a man and has a heart as cold as winter. She doesn¡¯t even live with the rest of them.¡¯

    ¡®So there are four thousand soldiers equally divided among the manes?¡¯ asked Asphales.

    ¡®That¡¯s right,¡¯ Ledner said. ¡®They are Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s elite. Then you have myriads of others who have sworn service and can be called upon in times of war. Like our group.¡¯

    ¡®The captain¡¯s being modest,¡¯ Ser¨¬n threw in. ¡®You can¡¯t lump him in with the rest of the rabble. He¡¯s part of Darius¡¯ mane. Trained by the Amarant himself. But see, occasionally a maneling gets his own troop. A company.¡¯ He pointed amicably to the table.

    Asphales watched the unflinching captain. No pride sparked or sprigged his solemn eyes. The weight of responsibility hung on his brows heavily. Asphales tried to imagine a troop of a thousand men like Ledner. He shuddered.

    ¡®Four thousand warriors live in the castle?¡¯ Asphales asked.

    ¡®Well, in the castle, the docks, and in the surrounding precincts,¡¯ Ser¨¬n corrected. ¡®The districts of Guladran sprawl at the feet of Fara¡¯ethar. But yes, the castle is immense, boy.¡¯

    ¡®Big as a mountain,¡¯ a guard commented.

    ¡®Tall as the clouds,¡¯ another offered.

    ¡®Luxurious and all of gold and marble,¡¯ Maresh said. ¡®Though I have never been inside. Our captain here has, but.¡¯

    ¡®Right,¡¯ said Ledner. ¡®And I would keep it a mystery a while longer from the boy. He¡¯ll see for himself when we arrive¡­¡¯

    Ledner¡¯s words died out. The company¡¯s laughter vanished. Asphales returned to the gentle flow of the Valarion. The sun was setting, taking its drape of light off the forest and leaving it dark and naked. The river clung to the departing fire with wavering vigour. Behind him, Valinos slept, head bowed and arms resting on his scabbarded sword.

    Asphales watched the water. Night animals mourned out of sight. Thoughts of Fara¡¯ethar danced in his head. He wept with the keening moon. And like a faithful messenger, the Valarion carried his thoughts and his tears out to sea.

    * * *

    Ad¨¦lia stepped lightly through her garden. Her tender hands touched the colours sleeping in the night. Above her, each ardent star was in its place. The tapestry gleamed contently. Complete.

    Her heart trembled. There was a gentle quiver, a daring tremor. Something inside her screamed and sang. The stories spun like dancers in her mind. They whispered of a strange design of fate.

    The boy with jasper eyes knew her.

    And yet he dwelt in woeful ignorance. There was so much she did not tell him. So much left unspoken. But her heart would not give way, like a chest she had lost the key to.

    A long-forgotten wound ached. She clutched her shoulder. The black swallowed her heart once more. The singing was silenced. The question haunted her.

    What does it take to love again when love itself is taken from you?

    She caressed a rose longingly. The red, velvety petals felt silky against her skin. She was all alone under the moon, under the stars.

 Chapter Seven - Fires Within the Fog

    Despite the distance, a Kerenan frost hung in the air. It was only autumn and yet the persistent cold of the south had descended like flies around a carcass. A dim haze clouded the horizon, hailing passing ships with a threatening chill. A stubborn sea-battered vessel trudged forward through the mist, in search of warm lands and welcoming harbours. It was a small, wretched thing. The boat creaked with every bump of the roiling sea beneath.

    Darius looked out over the shoddy vessel¡¯s railing. His turquoise eyes took in the sea, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The Amarant¡¯s long flaxen hair slicked back and tucked into the mass of a pelt coat. A single, obstinate lock hung around his forehead and tussled with every shift in the air. He felt older in the colourless haze.

    The Amarant watched the trailing wake. Kerena lay that way, he knew, somewhere far in the indistinct grey. That had been his home, once. The thought of the place stirred dormant embers deep inside him, a fire that had been kindled far too often. His sizeable hands tensed and gripped the wood. The ship creaked once more.

    The last few days had been a nightmare. Darius hated returning to that frozen wasteland. He had sworn never to even throw another glance toward Kerena and the Frozen Waters. That cursed land of everlasting winter had burned him, seared him with an ever-blazing rage. Each thought of his former life and every moment he spent dwelling on it worked like a pair of bellows. The fire rose. Darius turned away. He was glad to be on his way.

    There was a flutter. The ragged sails snapped. A change in the wind. Good. Perhaps a favourable gale would put that place further from his thoughts. Darius faced the haggard group of men who lazily worked the vessel. The cold had slowed their movements. Looking at their faces, Darius could see the same hard eyes and sharpened cheekbones that marked most of them as Kerenani. Some were sitting around, draped in blankets and complaining.

    Darius spotted a familiar shape near the rear mast and stepped over. The jingle of a dozen daggers concealed by the coat rang in unison with his steps. Guldar, the general of the Anarda?an cavalry and one of Darius¡¯ trusted men, stood watching the sailors disinterestedly. The burly man noticed the Amarant¡¯s approach.

    ¡®Not very reliable, are they?¡¯ Guldar commented with a half-supressed smile. Darius was not sure whether he detected content sarcasm or dissatisfaction. ¡®Remind me again why we¡¯re tagging along with this bunch?¡¯

    Darius let out a chuckled breath. ¡®Not my choice either,¡¯ he said. His voice fell like alabaster snow. ¡®You know relations between Kerena and the Empire aren¡¯t exactly rosy. It wouldn¡¯t have done to show up on their shores with full fleet and flotilla.¡¯

    ¡®Politics,¡¯ Guldar said as he made a disgusted sound. ¡®Never understood it and never bothered to. Give me a horse, a hammer, and a target. I¡¯ll do the rest.¡¯

    Darius patted the large man on the shoulder. ¡®This is why you¡¯re as reliable as the turning of the sun, my friend.¡¯

    Guldar smiled, his teeth framed by dark facial hair. Then he turned to the men and his face became sour. ¡®Still, I wouldn¡¯t trust any of them as far I could throw them.¡¯

    ¡®Neither would I,¡¯ Darius said. He fondled his fur coat. The metal underneath jangled again. ¡®I¡¯m glad to have you with me. The trip is not over yet.¡¯

    ¡®Right you are. I can¡¯t wait to be back on an Anarda?an vessel. No, better yet, I can¡¯t wait to step on Anarda?an soil. I¡¯ve had enough of the cold and of the sea for a lifetime.¡¯

    ¡®So have I,¡¯ Darius said. His voice lowered. His eyes wandered again. He tightened the fur coat around him. Pelts were something of a Kerenani specialty, highly coveted and sold for a pretty penny. Darius¡¯ coat kept the cold firmly on the outside. But perhaps it kept the fire inside also, the raging ember that drove him.

    In his darkest moments, Darius had wondered if the best thing he could do is to simply walk out into the cold, exposed and naked. To give in and let winter finally take him and snuff out his fire. He had kept the heat for far too long. Maybe what he yearned for was the chill release of¡­ But no. Something would not let him. Not until the flame burned up and took his past with it.

    The boat reeled again. The ocean sent creaks screaming through the wood. Darius came to and saw Guldar¡¯s concerned eyes fixed on him.

    ¡®Everything alright?¡¯ he inquired. ¡®You look troubled. Ah, gods, it¡¯s that place isn¡¯t it? You haven¡¯t been there since¡ª¡¯

    Darius said nothing and turned away. There were other matters to attend to. He located El¡¯enur a few paces away and walked toward him. The young man sat huddled underneath an enveloping cloak and watched over a shape strewn at his feet.

    ¡®El¡¯enur!¡¯ Darius called. ¡®How¡¯s our man holding up?¡¯

    The young man jumped at the summons and rose. His hood fell, unveiling short golden hair and eyes shot through with the blue of the summer sea. At his feet lay the only fruit the expedition to Kerena had yielded: a lone survivor, a man addled and scared out of his wits.

    ¡®Hasn¡¯t said a word since we left Ines¨­n,¡¯ said El¡¯enur.

    ¡®Hmph, ¡®fire¡¯ isn¡¯t much of a word,¡¯ Guldar said as he caught up with Darius. ¡®That¡¯s all he spoke when we picked him up.¡¯

    ¡®When I picked him up,¡¯ El¡¯enur said proudly. ¡®It was my keen archer¡¯s eyes that spotted him in the debris.¡¯ The young man tapped the side of his face and raised his eyebrows.

    ¡®And who lifted the rubble, boy?¡¯ Guldar retorted. ¡®You can barely bend your bow!¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m still the best bowman in Anardes,¡¯ El¡¯enur said in riposte, undeterred by the older man¡¯s insult.

    ¡®Second-best,¡¯ Darius corrected coolly, smiling.

    ¡®That¡¯s right, boy,¡¯ Guldar said. ¡®You haven¡¯t heard the story of what Darius here did at the Teeth. He was younger than you are when he was posted there, too. So you better change your tone, before I¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Darius?¡¯ a voice came from somewhere behind them.

    The Amarant spun to see a man sitting on a wooden crate near the railing. Though he was covered in blankets, he shivered still and his hands were unsteady. The sailor eyed Darius and his two companions suspiciously.

    ¡®You hear that, men?¡¯ he called. ¡®Darius, the Demon of the Snow himself is among us. What are you doing so close to home?¡¯

    Darius did not speak a word. He gazed at the man, and then at the ten other mariners on the boat. Most of them had become interested in the exchange and abandoned their posts. Distrust was written on their faces. If it came to it, Darius had more than enough daggers for each man.

    ¡®You¡¯re an Amarant these days, are you not?¡¯ the sailor questioned. ¡®Working for the Empire now, you filthy krahat?¡¯

    Guldar stepped up to Darius, but the Amarant placated the man with a single gesture. Still he spoke nothing.

    The sailor¡¯s eyes darted to the figure crumpled on the deck. ¡®That¡¯s no sick friend of yours, is it? What are you messin¡¯ with?¡¯ He rose and let the blankets fall around him. ¡®He¡¯s from the town burnt down jus¡¯ a tide ago, ain¡¯t he? You know, I¡¯ve ¡®alf a mind to accuse you of this wretched cold and all that¡¯s gone wrong.¡¯

    ¡®Half a mind is probably all he¡¯s got,¡¯ Guldar whispered. Darius smiled.

    ¡®You think it¡¯s pretty funny, don¡¯t you?¡¯ The sailor¡¯s tone sharpened, shifted to mocking. ¡®Turncoat filth, now livin¡¯ in the dreamy land of Anardes.¡¯

    Darius stepped closer to the man. He was a good head taller than the sailor, but the angry mariner did not back down.

    ¡®Your title don¡¯t mean much among your own people. It may send shivers in the boots of the Senh¨¬ and the Easterners, but here you¡¯re jus¡¯ another man.¡¯

    ¡®That is all that I am,¡¯ Darius said as he stared down the sailor. He forced the embers to cool inside him. ¡®And lower than a man, a simple killer.¡¯

    ¡®Ha,¡¯ the sailor spat. ¡®That¡¯s all you Amarants are good for.¡¯

    Darius sighed and walked away.

    ¡®Except for that Catena girl,¡¯ the sailor added with a smirk, loud enough for all aboard to hear. ¡®Lovely red hair she has. I tell you, if I knew her she wouldn¡¯t stay Loveless for long.¡¯ The other mariners laughed.

    Darius snapped. No. That is not how one spoke of a woman. Not of her. Not of any of them. Before he knew it, the fire raged. His hands were at the sailor¡¯s throat. With one smooth motion, the man sailed into the air and splashed into the cold sea below. A few moments later he came up out of the froth and sputtered water and curses. The boat sailed onward.

    Darius drew two daggers from beneath his pelt and readied them. The other mariners were too stunned to react. The Amarant pointed them at the men and said, ¡®If anyone makes a move to turn the boat around, I will cut off their hands. If anyone does anything suspicious, they will lose their feet. Get us to Sanaros Island.¡¯

    The mariners scrambled to return to their posts. Some tripped over the clutter on the deck. Darius sheathed his daggers. ¡®And don¡¯t you worry about your friend,¡¯ he shouted, ¡®he¡¯ll swim to shore. It¡¯s too cold this time of year for anything truly dangerous.¡¯

    Guldar came up to Darius and laid a hand on his shoulder. ¡®Well handled, that was. Good throw, too. Could¡¯ve been further. I would¡¯ve flung him into the Scar itself.¡¯

    Darius threw him a look. Guldar¡¯s confident gaze retreated. ¡®Right,¡¯ he demurred, rubbing his bald head remorsefully. ¡®And I¡¯m sorry I blew our cover.¡¯

    ¡®I thought we were to remain incognito,¡¯ El¡¯enur said. ¡®What happens now?¡¯

    ¡®We go on as planned,¡¯ replied Darius. ¡®We meet Nadros on the island and make our way back to Fara¡¯ethar. I suggest we avoid any more incidents.¡¯

    With the commotion dying down, Darius became aware of a sound coming from the direction of the survivor. He stepped closer and heard mumbling. Guldar and El¡¯enur approached also and watched the man as he shuddered. He had thrown off his blankets and his scrawny form could be seen. He rocked back and forth on the deck, repeating a phrase over and over.

    Darius leaned closer but could only make out ¡®red hair.¡¯

    Guldar stooped down and grabbed the survivor. ¡®What are you saying, man?¡¯

    ¡®Red hair red hair red hair,¡¯ the traumatised man repeated. Suddenly his unfocused eyes locked onto Darius. ¡®Red red red,¡¯ he spoke again. ¡®She¡­ she had red hair. She was¡­ she was the fire.¡¯ His words were interrupted by fits of mad laughter and other unintelligible sounds. ¡®She was the fire. He¡­ he was the shadow.¡¯

    ¡®Who was?¡¯ Darius asked. ¡®What did you see?¡¯

    ¡®Red and black, fire and shadow,¡¯ the man said. His hands shook more violently. ¡®And there was¡­ there was one more behind them.¡¯ More noise. ¡®There was one¡­ eyes like red death¡­ hair like white¡­¡¯ There was a long pause. ¡®He killed the singing man,¡¯ he said clearly, as if a sudden memory had reared its head. ¡®He killed the singing man.¡¯ The survivor fell asleep and said no more.

    Darius stood. He thought back to the Kerenan mission. In a land of white and winter they had found a pocket of ash and smoke. An entire town levelled and incinerated. The survivor¡¯s words confirmed what Darius feared most. The mission was not simply fruitless. It was a failure. In spite of the precautions and the speed with which it was undertaken, the quest had fallen.

    ¡®What do we do with him?¡¯ inquired El¡¯enur.

    ¡®We keep him safe,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®He¡¯ll be invaluable when he remembers. Amaleron will want to speak with him.¡¯

    ¡®Did you understand anything of what he said?¡¯ Guldar asked.

    ¡®I wish I hadn¡¯t,¡¯ Darius intoned. ¡®It means our enemy is a step ahead. But I don¡¯t want to dwell on it now.¡¯

    He truly did not. He desperately searched for a way to quench the blaze inside. To quell the rage within. His soul clawed and clamoured for a thousand distractions. But as it so often happened, the climb took him nowhere. Darius slipped and fell into the fire of his past. The present was no comfort. The future held nothing that he desired to see. And the cold was threatening. It crept closer.

    ¡®Come, let¡¯s have a song,¡¯ Darius said blankly. ¡®Do any of you know a ballad or a sea shanty?¡¯

    ¡®My voice kills dogs and makes women weep, I¡¯m afraid,¡¯ Guldar confessed. ¡®I¡¯m not much of a singer.¡¯ He shrugged.

    ¡®And you mistake me for my brother,¡¯ El¡¯enur said. ¡®He¡¯s the poet and the bard.¡¯

    ¡®Off with Ledner right now, isn¡¯t he?¡¯ Guldar spoke. ¡®I hope it ain¡¯t freezing where they went.¡¯

    Darius let their conversation fade into grey. He stepped to the railing. The droning of the mariners¡¯ labour was muted. The moaning of the sea was hushed. And he sang a winter song.

    Like red leaves settled in the snow

    A bloodstained path unfolds

    Where once the two of us would go

    Now one alone stands cold

    Like red amidst the silent white

    A bloodstained way befell

    The two who danced in dagger¡¯s bite

    And one alone shall tell

    The song cut him like a blade. Scars that had lain faded and buried opened afresh. He stood among the blood and the snow once more. He collapsed onto the frosty blanket again. But the fire always, always stopped him from freezing. It did that day. It did in this moment. The same memory that invited the cold also brought the pruning flames. But this is all that he deserved.

    ¡®Why do you do this to yourself?¡¯ he heard Guldar say.

    ¡®What was that?¡¯ El¡¯enur questioned. ¡®I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever heard our Amarant sing.¡¯

    ¡®A piece of the past,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®Nothing more.¡¯ He lied. He always did.

    They spent the rest of the trip in silence. Eventually the fog cleared, the warmth returned, and Sanaros Island came into view. In these waters Kerena reluctantly released its frigid hold on the weather. As the vessel approached the angular shapes of the island¡¯s docks, Darius spotted ships bearing the Anarda?an Lion and the Kerenan Wolf in equal measures.

    Sanaros formed a natural sea-locked border between Kerena and Anardes. A tiny island trapped between the seasons, it was an acknowledged no-man¡¯s-land by the two nations. Traders of either country could make use of the isle¡¯s many ports for business without fear of causing an incident. It was perhaps the most amicable meeting place between two lands that would be at each other¡¯s throats anywhere else.

    Such political expediency, however, had its dark side. Darius knew all too well that Sanaros was a den of robbers and mercenaries, unsavoury traders and assassins. He knew all too well the calibre of men that nested within its walls. To cleanse the island and rid it of its infestations¡­ he had no right to say such a thing. So he overlooked it, each time adding a coal to the embers.

    Darius and his companions disembarked, taking the survivor with them. When the man awoke, some semblance of sanity had returned. He could walk again, and while his words were still few, they were clearer. He would not stop thanking Darius¡¯ companions with a ¡®Bless ye, sirs!¡¯ as they left the boat. The sailors seemed relieved to be rid of the troublemakers and they hurried away not long after the vessel had docked.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    As Darius paced the piers of Sanaros in search of Nadros¡¯ ship, he found it strange to see sunlight again. It appeared to be only midday, and he was glad. Out on the Frozen Waters, the mist had made it difficult to track the time. But this meant they would return to Fara¡¯ethar by sunset, all things considered. He nodded contentedly to himself. It would not do to be delayed further. Amaleron needed to know immediately.

    Suddenly a voice like the evening tide accosted the group as they turned a corner into a busy portion of the docksides.

    ¡®Hullo there, lads!¡¯ an old man called out. He bit the words through the thick pipe held between his teeth.

    Darius faced the man and smiled. The voice was familiar but the old man was unrecognisable. Amarant Nadros sat disguised with a ridiculous eyepiece, a hat of flamboyant workmanship, and a ragged leather coat far too large for his shape. Guldar and El¡¯enur looked on bemusedly, and the survivor merely stared blankly.

    ¡®Had to find a way to keep hidden,¡¯ Nadros said with a cackling laugh. ¡®And besides, you won¡¯t believe how good this lens is. I can read again!¡¯

    Guldar could no longer suppress his laughter and he bellowed a guttural guffaw. ¡®And I thought our cover was extravagant,¡¯ he said as he wiped away tears.

    ¡®Alright, alright,¡¯ Nadros said, miffed at Guldar¡¯s honesty.

    ¡®I do hope you haven¡¯t just been sitting here enjoying your gadgets,¡¯ Darius said.

    A glint appeared in Nadros¡¯ eyes. ¡®Ah, well that¡¯s just it, lads,¡¯ he said excitedly. ¡®I heard plenty of things. It¡¯s amazing what men talk about when they don¡¯t realise anyone is listening.¡¯

    ¡®Good,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®But we won¡¯t speak here. We also have urgent news. We need to return to Fara¡¯ethar.¡¯

    ¡®Alright, no need to convince me,¡¯ Nadros said as he rose. ¡®I¡¯ve had enough of this place. I¡¯ll take you to the galleon.¡¯

    Nadros led the group through the twisting alleyways of Sanaros. He navigated the labyrinthine tangles of brick and branch with ease, through the green and through the grey until they reached his vessel, docked clandestinely between two cliffs. The open presence of an official military ship would stir things too much. The very people that needed to be observed would take to flight like startled birds, retreating untraceably to the underbelly of the island. Nadros¡¯ choice of landing was impeccable for a low-key mission such as this.

    Once aboard the galleon, Nadros discarded his disguises, save for the eyepiece which he claimed would still be useful later. Having donned his usual gear, the Amarant looked more like himself. The sparse greying hair, the crooked nose, the wise zircon eyes. The old man had a stately face that suited the ornate doublet he sported, embroidered with silken lions. He looked as fine a sea captain as any Darius had seen. He gave orders to the men on deck to raise anchors and depart, and led Darius and his companions to a chamber below deck. After he had seen to the survivor receiving a cabin for rest, Nadros came out with his companions¡¯ weapons.

    ¡®I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve missed these,¡¯ he said as he brought out items one by one and placed them on the large wooden table in the centre of the room. The weapons clanged against the glass top.

    ¡®That¡¯s much better,¡¯ Guldar said as he picked up his warhammer and turned it in his hands. ¡®Feels like I¡¯ve been missing a limb these past few days. Tell you what, daggers just don¡¯t cut it.¡¯

    ¡®Well, in fact they do,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, puzzled. ¡®That¡¯s exactly what daggers do.¡¯

    ¡®Hush, boy,¡¯ Guldar snapped. ¡®Attend to your own flimsy weapon over there.¡¯

    ¡®This flimsy thing,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, picking up a slender bow of dark wood, ¡®could put steel between your eyes faster than you¡¯d swing that oversized household tool.¡¯

    ¡®Children, please,¡¯ Nadros said with furrowed brows.

    Darius stepped over to the table. Reaching beneath his fur coat, he drew out daggers and placed them on the glass. One. Then two. Then ten. A dozen daggers finally lined the surface. Nadros gave a dissatisfied grunt. Darius then lifted his own blade, a hulking greatsword, wider than a man¡¯s palm and long as a man himself.

    ¡®How do you even carry that thing?¡¯ El¡¯enur asked.

    ¡®Well, you see, some weapons are made for men, not boys,¡¯ Guldar sniggered. El¡¯enur scowled but said nothing.

    Darius eyed the flawless steel carefully. It seemed thirsty. The blade always was. His right hand held the black hilt firmly while his left caressed its edge. The cold blade burned with the same fire inside him. Darius set it upright, satisfied.

    ¡®Don¡¯t worry,¡¯ Nadros said. ¡®I¡¯ve kept them all in good care. Now, what¡¯s Rast¡¯s story?¡¯

    Guldar and El¡¯enur chucked confused glances at one another.

    ¡®The man you brought along. You rescued the fellow, spent the last few days with him, and you haven¡¯t even learned his name?¡¯ Nadros threw up his hands in exasperation. ¡®You young¡¯uns should learn how to treat a man.¡¯ The old man had done over sixty years of living, and he always let people know it.

    ¡®He wasn¡¯t exactly in any form to speak,¡¯ grumbled Guldar.

    ¡®That man is the only thing we brought back from Kerena,¡¯ Darius said.

    Nadros quietened, seemingly understanding the implications.

    ¡®What were we expecting to find anyway?¡¯ El¡¯enur asked.

    ¡®Not this,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®We hoped it would be nothing more than a rumour or the usual raid.¡¯

    ¡®We don¡¯t travel all the way to Kerena on rumours and raids,¡¯ Guldar commented. ¡®There is more to it.¡¯

    ¡®Well, if Rast¡¯s words are to be believed, it means the enemy is gaining the upper hand.¡¯ Darius steeled himself before proceeding. He sifted through the wreckage in Kerena and went over Rast¡¯s rambling words once more. ¡®It means we have lost another Elder.¡¯

    The words echoed around the chamber and seemed to sink into the wood itself. El¡¯enur stood bewildered. Guldar frowned. Nadros let out a heavy sigh. ¡®Starlight preserve us.¡¯

    ¡®Are we going to act all maudlin on the words of an addled survivor?¡¯ Guldar¡¯s question broke the silence. ¡®Come now.¡¯

    ¡®Normally, I would dismiss it as well. But what Rast said and what he¡¯s seen¡­ it resonates too closely with something I heard.¡¯

    ¡®What do you mean?¡¯ El¡¯enur piped up.

    Darius waved his hand in dismissal. ¡®Don¡¯t worry for now. Amaleron will explain it further and clear things up, I hope. But the reference to the ¡®singing man¡¯ was clear enough.¡¯

    El¡¯enur lowered his eyes, clearly unappeased by the answer. Yet Darius¡¯ mind was elsewhere. Thoughts and questions roiled in his head regardless of his confidence. If Rast had truly seen them¡­ how will she take this news?

    ¡®So, if that¡¯s true, are we right to assume it is the Order¡¯s doing?¡¯ Guldar threw in.

    ¡®Well, here I may finally be helpful,¡¯ Nadros said. He cleared his throat. ¡®I¡¯ve gathered significant information regarding the Order in my time on Sanaros as a¡­ spy.¡¯ He adjusted his eyepiece.

    ¡®Names? Places? Purpose?¡¯

    ¡®Names are scarce to come by, as you can imagine, but one did pass their tongues a couple of times. Shurun¡¯el.¡¯ Nadros paused. ¡®Apparently, he was headed north not long ago. I also heard mention of some members lurking near Kerena. But there those sources stopped being helpful.¡¯

    ¡®Shurun¡¯el,¡¯ Darius trailed. Another ember sparked to life.

    ¡®The Order is on the move, Darius. It is active. I can only guess to their purpose.¡¯ Frustration passed Nadros¡¯ aging eyes. ¡®Sanaros seems to be a place they frequent. But they slither like snakes. Needless to say, I never caught sight or whiff of any of their members. And once they disperse, there is no telling where they go.¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯ve done well. We¡¯ll keep a closer watch on Sanaros and mobilise once we reach Fara¡¯ethar.¡¯

    ¡®But that¡¯s not all. I have heard talk of seven. Men fear the ¡®Seven¡¯ and only mention them in half-breaths and hushed whispers. That most likely refers to their leadership, not to their full number, yet it¡¯s something to work with.¡¯

    ¡®It¡¯s something, alright. They truly think they are the new Order of Seven, do they?¡¯ Guldar spat contemptuously. He had latched on to the historical referent immediately.

    El¡¯enur raised an eyebrow. ¡®Just like at Feres... There are stories about them, right? About the elite Seven who fought alongside Ulm¨¬r.¡¯

    ¡®It¡¯s more than the stories. It confirms our suspicions that the Order is not content with petty thievery and banditry. With a claim that grand, they¡¯re after something bigger.¡¯

    ¡®And it is probable that the incidents are related,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®The Kerenan attack. Shurun¡¯el¡¯s departure to the north. And the buzz that surrounds the Seven¡¯s activity. If we could get our hands on one of them¡­¡¯

    Nadros nodded. ¡®I fear this nuisance will grow into something more terrible still. The Order has plagued our operations in the past, but they seem to be growing persistent and their activities are far-reaching and nefarious. We¡¯ll have to be vigilant. Prepare ourselves for what¡¯s ahead. Something is afoot and we need be girded.¡¯

    ¡®Aye, we¡¯ll be ready,¡¯ Guldar said as he tightened the grip on his warhammer.

    Darius agreed, but his voice rang disembodied and unsure. His mind latched onto that single name. Shurun¡¯el. Already the flames were licking at it, attempting to devour it. Darius gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. He felt the thirst of his blade.

    ¡®Darius? Are you feeling well?¡¯ Nadros asked.

    The Amarant realised he had been standing there, eyes closed and features scrunched for some time. He looked up. ¡®Fine,¡¯ he stammered. ¡®I have not slept well this past tide,¡¯ he said as he rubbed his face. ¡®What day is it?¡¯

    The concern did not disappear from Nadros¡¯ face. ¡®How does a tracker lose his grip on the time? It is Sunsfell, friend.¡¯

    Tracker. The word seeped into him like venom.

    ¡®Maybe you should rest. Sharpen your dulled senses.¡¯

    Without another word, Darius made a move towards the chamber¡¯s exit, intending to head for his cabin. Perhaps sleep would distance him from the previous tide¡¯s weariness.

    ¡®I feel it¡¯s best for all of us, then, that we lighten our conversation,¡¯ Nadros said with a sigh. ¡®How was the trip from Kerena?¡¯

    ¡®We only lost one man at sea,¡¯ El¡¯enur said. Darius thought he could make out a tinge of disappointment in the young man¡¯s tone.

    ¡®What?¡¯ Nadros snapped incredulously. He shot a look toward Darius. ¡®Ah, never mind. I don¡¯t even want to ask.¡¯

    Darius stepped through the door and into the hall leading to the sleeping quarters. His companions¡¯ chatter faded behind finely carven wood and the constant droning of the sea below. As he reached the entrance to his designated room, the door at the end of the hallway behind him opened and heavy footfalls approached, dampened by the lush carpet.

    ¡®Darius, what was that all about? How long do you intend to hold it all in?¡¯

    The Amarant did not turn at first. He heard Guldar¡¯s voice, but he wished he could ignore it. ¡®I am a ghost, my friend,¡¯ he finally said. ¡®A ghost haunting my old abodes. Today I was a phantom floating through Sanaros. I was reminded of too many things¡­¡¯

    ¡®Stop damning yourself, man! You are thirty-six and yet walk with the weight of fifty years¡¯ guilt.¡¯

    Darius faced his subordinate. No, he truly was a friend. ¡®That guilt and rage is all I have. That is my fire. And I will bear it ¡®til it burns out.¡¯

    ¡®And when will that be?¡¯

    Silence.

    ¡®And what about El¡¯enur? He trusts you as his commander. He should know the story of the Amarant he follows. You owe him that much.¡¯

    ¡®Perhaps one day he will hear it. I fear what would happen if I told the tale again while the fire lies unspent. No. It is not the time, my friend.¡¯

    Darius did not wait for Guldar¡¯s protests. He turned again and entered his chambers. ¡®Wake me when we reach Fara¡¯ethar,¡¯ he called.

    In his room, Darius admired the interior of Nadros¡¯ galleon. There was no comparison between it and the dingy boat which carried him from Kerena to Sanaros. Opulent wood arrayed the length of the cabin, decorated and shaped skilfully. Rich cerulean carpet blanketed the floor, and the finest furniture dotted the chamber. Extravagant decorations for a vessel of war, he thought.

    Darius laid his weapon in a corner. Moving toward his sleeping arrangements, he threw off his pelt and sank into the bedding. The mattress and cushions absorbed the day¡¯s heaviness.

    He unstrapped the leather garments underneath his pelt and set them beside his bed. His fingers traced the scars that criss-crossed his bare arms and chest. A memory, each one of them. His hand felt the familiar grooves of a scar above his heart. He winced. Before the flashes leapt again, he grabbed the pillow and closed his eyes. The gentle swaying of the vessel carried him down into icy dreams...

    A rumbling thud tore through the snowstorm of his slumber. A weight had landed in the depths. Darius woke, realising it was the ship¡¯s anchor. They had arrived and docked. Shuffling footsteps could be heard through the wooden beams above him as preparations were made for mooring.

    Darius reached for a lamp. With an inaudible spark, a flame leapt to life and chased shadows around the chamber. Rising from his bed, Darius rubbed the last remnants of dreamy images from his groggy eyes. He grabbed his sword, his clothing, and his pelt. As he threw on the fur cloak, there was a knock at the door. Sure enough, Guldar was announcing their arrival at the docks of Fara¡¯ethar.

    At last. Far from that place.

    Darius put out the lantern and exited his room. Guldar greeted him wordlessly. The two walked on down the hallway, into the main chamber, and up the stairs leading to the deck. Fiery evening light streamed through windows in the ship¡¯s hull and seeped through openings in the wood. Even in its dying hours, the sun held on to its fire. Neither gaping sea nor open sky could quench its raging red.

    Above deck, Darius was met by a cool evening kiss. A gentle wind played with the sails and other unsecured materials before whisking off into a perfectly clear sky. The Sundered hung like a misshapen moon. In the distance, the Scar yawned in the sea, a trench caused by the rending of the rock which now floated above. Darius used to wonder how it had all happened, what supernal energy had unshackled and held an entire land aloft. But the sight was now as familiar as indistinct furniture, or a scar that one has grown accustomed to. Still, Darius took a deep breath. The weather was as he remembered. The place was as he recalled. Welcoming.

    Around him, feet scurried to and fro and hands were already busy to secure the ship for disembarking. Familiar, droning sounds which mingled with the noises growing all around the shipyard. Guldar walked off to assist El¡¯enur, who was struggling to raise an anchor. ¡®Hey, boy!¡¯ he called out. ¡®Let me show you how it¡¯s done before you hurt yourself.¡¯

    Darius would have assisted had he not noticed Rast standing idly near the bowsprit. He was staring out toward the sea, hands resting on the wooden rails. Darius remembered the urgent task he had in mind. He had to bring this man to Amaleron and inform the steward of what had transpired in Kerena. But there was another task also. He walked over to the man, who now seemed to be far calmer and composed than he had been on the trip.

    ¡®Isn¡¯t it wonderful?¡¯ said Rast as Darius drew near. ¡®Much better than the blood and the fire.¡¯ The words came like sand from a shattered hourglass, from the mind of a man who struggled to stay sane.

    ¡®It is,¡¯ Darius replied. ¡®I, too, have seen blood and fire.¡¯ The other man shifted uneasily. The noise of the vessel filled the quiet.

    ¡®You are Kerenani,¡¯ Rast said suddenly. He sounded comforted by that fact. ¡®Fire is not for us. We are cold men. Cold, cold men¡­¡¯

    ¡®Rast, I have a very important question,¡¯ Darius said, not wishing to dwell any longer on thoughts of fire and fury. ¡®Do you remember the song? Can you recall the words of the singing man?¡¯

    ¡®Yes. I will never forget.¡¯

    ¡®Good. There is someone I want you to meet. Will you tell him the singing man¡¯s words?¡¯

    ¡®Yes. Yes.¡¯

    Rast finally turned from the ocean sight and faced Darius. It was as if he looked at him for the first time, but there was more clarity to the man¡¯s eyes now. They were eyes Darius had seen before. Pained, angered eyes. His eyes¡­

    It was time to go. Darius called for El¡¯enur and Guldar, who were no doubt still trading verbal blows somewhere on deck. The two finished setting the anchor in place when they noticed Darius¡¯ hailing.

    ¡®True strength makes a man,¡¯ Guldar said as he walked on.

    ¡®I believe women also look for finesse and tact, qualities you would not know if they struck you blind.¡¯

    ¡®Ha! What do you know of women, sprout? You¡¯ve barely left your mother¡¯s teat.¡¯

    ¡®El¡¯enur! Guldar!¡¯ Darius¡¯ voice cut through their argument. El¡¯enur muttered a reply under his breath and then faced the Amarant. Darius could not stay annoyed for long. He trusted the two men in front of him with his life. Even El¡¯enur, the fragile youth who knew so little and yet thought he could do so much, the young man who brimmed with confidence.

    ¡®You two,¡¯ Darius began. ¡®Escort Rast to Fara¡¯ethar and bring him to Amaleron. I will join you shortly. There is someone I must see first.¡¯

    With that, he left them on the deck to see to their task. Darius rushed off the galleon as soon as the ramp was set in place, only stopping briefly by Nadros. He apologised to the toiling old man before darting off into the busyness of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s shipyard. The playful wind tugged at his pelt as he dodged sailors carrying wares and other dockyard denizens.

    The docks sprawled for half a mile at the foot of the great cliff on which the castle perched. Fara¡¯ethar loomed proudly, encircled by a mantle of darkening sky. But neither dock nor castle was Darius¡¯ first destination. The man he needed to see resided in the military district, a complex of buildings and ranges nestled between Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s lower walls and the sheer cliff itself. If Ishak would be anywhere this time of day, it was there, at the beating heart of the Empire¡¯s military might.

    Darius arrived as the sun met the ocean. The confluence of fire and water sent sprays of red careening along the surface. The cliff¡¯s face seemed to glow in the sunset. The barracks dotted the land at the bottom of the rocky formation like uneven teeth in a stony jaw.

    Inside the complex, countless conscripts practiced their final manoeuvres before the day ended, while some collected swords, armour, and other equipment. The ones who noticed Darius saluted him as he walked by. He could not give them more than a passing acknowledgment, but he was glad when a group of three soldiers from his own mane confirmed Ishak was ahead.

    The place smelled of steel and sweat. The musk of metal and ringing iron was in the air. Outside the battlefield itself, the barracks came closest to the taste of war. It was an Amarant¡¯s duty to thrive on that taste, to savour it. To do the things necessary so that others do not have to. To walk the ugly path of blood and bone so the rest may step on the trail of peace.

    But Darius was good at taking life. It was the only thing he knew how to do well. He was the mediator of death. And if he indulged in the honourless sport when the fire consumed him, well¡­ what was war if not the furious clash of angry men? So if the only way to quell his rage was to unleash it, if the only way to protect was by engaging in the paradox of killing, so be it. It was miserable business, but he had brought it upon his own head. This was his way of life. And this was a place where other men prepared for that.

    Darius reached the longhouse, the building at the far end of the barracks and walked inside. He stepped through a corridor lined with weapons. The dull walls were filled with swords, spears, axes, and other implements of war. The tools of the trade.

    ¡®Your stance is wrong,¡¯ Darius heard someone say as he passed through the steel-adorned foyer and emerged into the enclosure. The voice rang like the morning calm. Near the entry, Ishak was instructing some of the more eager soldiers in spear drills. Probably recruits looking to be enlisted into Lady Catena¡¯s mane, judging by their amateurish composure. Ishak watched the young men through eyes of faded andesine, patient as a parent.

    ¡®But sir,¡¯ one of the men complained, ¡®we¡¯re doing everything as you showed us.¡¯

    ¡®Not everything,¡¯ Ishak replied. ¡®You have a strong thrust arm, Telen, I can see that. But there¡¯s more to being a spearman.¡¯ Ishak walked over to the young man and struck the back of his legs with his spear. It did not seem to be a heavy blow, but Telen collapsed.

    ¡®Do you see?¡¯ Ishak asked. ¡®Watch your footing. We can¡¯t have men fall over on Catena, now. Goodness, she gets enough of that already.¡¯ The instructor offered his hand with a chuckle.

    Telen blushed, whether at the demonstration of his instability or at the comment, Darius did not know, and accepted Ishak¡¯s aid. He rose awkwardly and dusted his leather jerkin.

    ¡®That she does,¡¯ Darius said, stepping closer. ¡®Just today I threw a man overboard for his uncouth attention.¡¯

    ¡®Ah, Amarant Darius,¡¯ Ishak called as he noticed him standing there, ¡®you have returned.¡¯ Telen hurried into a more dignified position. The other recruits straightened as well.

    Darius nodded. ¡®I must speak with you. Urgently.¡¯

    ¡®Of course.¡¯ He turned to the young men. ¡®Lads, that will be all for today. Unless you want the Amarant himself to oversee your training and administer discipline.¡¯ Telen and the others quickly gathered their gear and left the building. Fear. The swiftest form of respect.

    Ishak watched the men go and then turned to Darius with a grin. ¡®Might make soldiers out of them yet,¡¯ he said.

    ¡®You train the men well, Ishak.¡¯

    ¡®But it is no Kerenan upbringing, is it?¡¯ The look on the spearman¡¯s face spoke of both reverence and a wretched fear.

    ¡®Ishak, I must ask a favour of you.¡¯

    ¡®Anything, my lord.¡¯

    ¡®Is Amarant Catena at Fara¡¯ethar?¡¯

    ¡®No, she is still in Gohenur. My scout is not back, either.¡¯

    ¡®I see. We can¡¯t wait any longer. Find her and bring her here. Please, you know where she dwells.¡¯

    ¡®Has something happened?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m afraid so. The situation in Kerena was grim. And the Order is far deeper and more devious that we thought. Amaleron is being informed presently, and I expect there shall be a council convened soon to decide what to do on all this. You¡¯ll hear all the details then.¡¯

    ¡®But why the urgency regarding Lady Catena?¡¯

    ¡®The white phantom¡­ He has returned.¡¯

    Ishak looked taken aback. He nodded solemnly.

    ¡®You can take my own horse,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®He¡¯ll remain steady and true. But hurry, I fear dark days are ahead.¡¯

    ¡®Consider it done. I will leave immediately.¡¯

    ¡®Oh, and one more thing. What of Ledner¡¯s company? Have they come back?¡¯

    Ishak shook his head and departed.

 Chapter Eight - Dreams Within the Day

    Valinos was sweeping through the motions of a battle. His sword arm danced. His blade merrily sang its metallic tune. An instant later, his movements connected with the terrible beauty of a storm. There was a sharp peal. Asphales fell to the ground, his sword flinging away with a defeated ring.

    ¡®Ho, boy!¡¯ Ser¨¬n said. ¡®That¡¯s enough.¡¯

    Valinos stood panting, sword pointed at Asphales, who was scrambling into a ready position. For a moment, he detected fear in his friend¡¯s eyes. It was over. Valinos lowered his weapon.

    ¡®That makes six for me,¡¯ he said as he offered his hand.

    Asphales smiled and took the help. ¡®And three for me,¡¯ he grunted as he raised himself up. ¡®You¡¯ve got several on me.¡¯

    Valinos grinned. ¡®Accepting defeat for now, my friend?¡¯

    ¡®That I am,¡¯ Asphales said with a sigh. ¡®I would not want to actually face you on the field of battle.¡¯

    ¡®Perhaps the life of a soldier comes more naturally to a smithy than a sailor.¡¯

    Asphales chuckled and nodded, then went off to search for his sword. It seemed the previous consecutive defeats had not deflated his spirits. Asphales still sprang with boundless energy in spite of his fatigue. It was the same energy he exuded when around a story.

    ¡®Let¡¯s call it a day,¡¯ Ser¨¬n said. ¡®You lads have been at it for a while. Well done, the both of you. You might yet be fit to join the Guard.¡¯ A smirk appeared on the man¡¯s face and his blue eyes glinted.

    Valinos let out a breath and sheathed his sword. The walk to the camp was torturous. With the adrenaline of the duel fading away, he noticed how much his muscles ached and how much his blisters stung. The routines Ser¨¬n had put him through were certainly taking their toll on his body. But Valinos did not mind. Not with what he was learning. Not if he was becoming stronger. The hands that Paran had prepared to forge and shape the steel were now being instructed in how to use it. Of course, he had not seen real battle yet, but Valinos was still filled with a certain pride.

    ¡®You¡¯ve got strength, boy,¡¯ a stern voice called from behind him.

    Valinos turned to see Ledner approaching him. If the comment had been a compliment, the captain¡¯s face did not show it. It was still unflinchingly rigid. That was not unusual. But it was unusual for Ledner to take an interest in their affairs. The captain had hardly spoken to them after he and Asphales were passed on to Ser¨¬n¡¯s supervision. Now he stood there with his customary stillness, as if awaiting a reply.

    ¡®Uh, thank you, sir,¡¯ Valinos said, unsure of a proper response. Ser¨¬n had insisted on being called ¡®master,¡¯ something that had annoyed Valinos greatly. He was sure the guardsman was playing some zany game. But Ledner did not seem to be one for games.

    ¡®You are definitely strong,¡¯ Ledner said, nodding gravely, ¡®but watch how you use that strength of yours.¡¯

    ¡®What does it matter how I use it?¡¯ Valinos asked. The words came out harsher than he had intended.

    Ledner did not react. It was hard to tell if he had read the comment as an insult. ¡®Pass me your sword,¡¯ he said after a while.

    Valinos hesitantly agreed. He unsheathed his blade slowly and handed it to the captain. Ledner grasped its hilt and ran his hand along the silver edges of the weapon. Then he held it up and eyed it, seemingly looking for something. He gave it a few swings.

    ¡®The sword is like you,¡¯ the captain said as he handed it back. ¡®Chipped. Wounded. Angry. Every rent blade needs its grindstone.¡¯

    Valinos tensed as he took back his weapon. He tried his best to restrain a scowl. What did the captain know to think he could lecture him? He sheathed the sword with a loud clink.

    ¡®Why do you fight?¡¯ Ledner asked.

    The question took him by surprise. It echoed like distant thunder. Valinos could not tell him the truth. He could not tell Ledner of the bitterness that ate away at him. He could not mention the aimlessness he felt, like a bird which had lost its bearings.

    Except he had never even known such things. He had been abandoned and left purposeless, directionless. So he railed against every stare and every insult that reminded him he had no place.

    ¡®I fight because I want my voice heard,¡¯ Valinos said finally.

    ¡®How reckless. You will hurt all else around you that way.¡¯

    ¡®There is nothing else,¡¯ Valinos snapped. ¡®I have nothing else.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s where you¡¯re wrong, boy,¡¯ Ledner said reprovingly. ¡®Every man is a part of something. Right now, you belong to this company. You¡¯ve taken on its life and its way.¡¯

    ¡®But I don¡¯t even know why I¡¯m here or where I¡¯m going!¡¯

    ¡®And I am sorry I can¡¯t answer that, but we¡¯re not always afforded the clarity of the entire map before we have to commit to the road. Your place now is on this road, with those alongside you. Your friend Asphales. The company.¡¯

    Valinos¡¯ burst of anger subsided. Ledner¡¯s words made sense, but they did not alleviate the frustration.

    ¡®Your strength is a privilege,¡¯ the captain continued, ¡®not to be abused or squandered. You¡¯re on this journey with all of us, so you fight to protect your friends and the company, because you are part of it. Wherever this may take us.¡¯ Something that resembled a smile appeared across the captain¡¯s face¡­

    Suddenly, Valinos was standing on the water¡¯s edge. Dawn was breaking, and the cascading rays chased away the guardians of the night. The chance to dream slipped away.

    A gale of guilt swept through him. His thoughts thundered. His mind was a clouded sky. Valinos watched his reflection in the water. He was so weak¡­

    * * *

    Asphales woke among trees. He woke with the endless gushing of the river in his ears and the sting of sunlight in his face. He was roused from the tumult of his dreams. But this night his dreams had been simpler. He had not seen veils or beasts. He had dreamt of the bandit and of bloody hands. He had dreamt of an ended life. It seemed wrong, like blotting out a star from the night sky. Like silencing a voice in a choir. The piece carried on, but there was a lack. A hole.

    Asphales looked around blearily. At some point in the night they had shored the raft and made camp at the foot of a rocky outcrop. The pines of Gohenur crowned the exposed stones before stopping a few paces from the river. If this jutting surface was evidence of some ancient cataclysm which reshaped the land, the forest now grew blissfully unaware around it.

    The morning was already getting on. The sun beat against the makeshift campsite Asphales and Valinos had established. It was the ninth day of the journey. Nine days since his life had changed. Three since he had almost lost it.

    Asphales reluctantly rose from his bedding and rolled up the blankets before stashing them unkemptly. He was starting to feel the lack in his belongings. His tattered attire showed the wear of travel. He had no clean spare clothing left. And even the blankets he had packed were beginning to deteriorate.

    Then there was Anfr¨¬r. Asphales had not really looked at his sword since the incident. But perhaps it was time to face it. The blade lay nearby, feeding contently on the sunlight. Asphales walked over and picked up the sword. It was deceptively warm. He knew that underneath, the steel was cold and cruel. That was its nature.

    Asphales passed Valinos¡¯ neatly bundled possessions and emerged from the outcrop. Valinos was returning from the river, face wet and hair dripping. He eyed the sword briefly, but moved on without speaking. He, too, seemed worn out by the journey and his clothing was not faring much better. Asphales was glad to see that his friend¡¯s limp was almost entirely gone.

    Upon reaching the waterside, Asphales knelt down on the stony bank. He leaned closer and washed his hands and face. Then he submerged the blade. It was still stained. He scraped at the dark coating carefully and red specks of hardened muck came loose, washing into the stream. He noted the blade¡¯s chinks. It would need to be grinded and sharpened. Surely Fara¡¯ethar had the facilities for that.

    Soon Anfr¨¬r was clean, but his conscience was not. Images of the nameless bandit and the battle formed in the shifting surface of the river. Even if the bandit had tried to take his life, even if he had been an enemy, how did soldiers justify their acts? How could war be waged without the guilt eating away at their innocence? There was only cold comfort in the thought that had his instincts not taken over in that moment, he would not even be standing here pondering such questions.

    Confronting these thoughts was not pleasant; it was quite taxing, in fact, but he knew it had to be done. Asphales was only now beginning to glimpse his place in the violent puzzle that was the present world. He shuddered at what might be demanded of him later, what he might have to be pushed to do.

    Up to now, he had been distracted by flowers, a forest, and a fair warrior. That woman, the knight, she fought effortlessly. Confidently. Her hands did not waver, and she ended life without restraint. Or did she? She was gentle with the forest. She was gentle with him. Was there a way to fight like that, determined to protect what is precious and yet willing to do what is necessary?

    Asphales thought of her dance, her voice, her brokenness. Ad¨¦lia Amal¡¯ethar, she said her name was. Why had she captured his attention so? For in her eyes there was distance. The same distance he felt between himself and the wheeling stars above at night. And yet¡­

    His thoughts turned to his place once more. Why did he fight? How should he fight? Where did he stand? Asphales felt small, a mere wave in the ocean. Would he ever wash up on the shores of understanding? Or was he doomed to be driven by fickle winds until he dissipated into the formless sea? He desperately hoped that whatever awaited him at Fara¡¯ethar would provide some answers.

    With the goal of the castle in mind, Asphales stood up, clean blade clutched anew. He sheathed Anfr¨¬r, refilled his waterskin, and walked back to the campsite. It was time to depart. Valinos was toiling away at his possessions, straining efforts obvious even with his healing leg. Asphales moved over to his bag and began to pack his blankets and clothes. Though they were readying to set out, no joy punctuated their movements.

    There were now only two sets of footfalls where previously there had been fourteen. Hardly a company left. The loneliness was audible. Asphales missed the Guard. He would have done anything to hear Ser¨¬n¡¯s voice pierce the ghostly quiet, or to have Ledner¡¯s order shape the meaningless hours.

    As Asphales twisted to fold his blanket, he felt a sharp pain in his side. He remembered the arrow that ripped through him. He shrugged it off and kept working. The battle may have sheared his flesh and torn his skin, but surface wounds would heal. No, the nightmare in the clearing had taken something far more precious and lasting.

    His mind was still on the members of the Guard. Where were they now? The knight among the flowers said they rested with the stars. Was that true? In his stories, the Elders had spoken of a world for the departed, a world which would one day be again united with this one. Even if it were so, it did not ease the hollow distance.

    There was a day when stories were a distant dream. A desirable dream. Loss was different in stories. He never truly felt the pain in the pages. It happened to someone else, somewhere else.

    But this, this was real.

    Asphales realised his tale of loss began long ago, with his father¡¯s death. His mother¡¯s disappearance continued it. And now, the loss of the company. Each episode brought with it problems and pain. Tears and trials. And questions. So many questions.

    He did not cry. Not anymore. Once you shed your tears, there was the time of mending, of accepting and coming to grips with your new scars. That¡¯s what had always happened. That¡¯s what had to happen now. But Asphales had not imagined that walking in the footsteps of his fantasies would involve carrying the same pain he always felt.

    Asphales finished folding and stuffed the blanket into his pack. His hands ran against the familiar edges of his book. Instinctively, he thought of his mother¡¯s note at the beginning. Is this what it meant to be brave? To bear blood and loss? If so, he was not sure he wanted such a burden.

    Looking up, he saw Valinos brooding over his now-packed possessions. He was alone with his thoughts. Valinos had not spoken a word since the previous day. Asphales worried for his friend, but he did not know how to approach him. He wanted to know how the battle had affected him. Valinos appeared to be on edge ever since waking up in Ad¨¦lia¡¯s forest home. Surely, this is not what he expected either. To leave Silnod¨¬r for this¡­ The days of their innocent ignorance in that little village seemed so long ago.

    Valinos¡¯ topaz eyes were a winter thunderstorm in the autumn calm. Though the outcrop in which they camped bathed in the warm light of late morning, the cold focus of his eyes shot their campsite through with an almost tangible frost. What was he pondering? What did he think of all that had happened?

    Asphales rummaged through his belongings and found the burlap sack with the food Ad¨¦lia provided. Peering inside, he noted what was left. The knight had said it was a two day trip to Fara¡¯ethar at the river¡¯s pace. There should be enough to last them this second stretch of the journey. He picked out a piece of bread, a chunk of dried meat, and a helping of cheese.

    Asphales nibbled on the food, his head swimming with thoughts and questions. Then he stepped over to Valinos and held out the sack.

    ¡®Care for some food, Valinos?¡¯ he asked, unsure if the offer of a meal would be welcomed.

    Valinos sat on his pack, head resting on entwined hands. He looked over his friend¡¯s extended arm, and after a considered pause, reached out and grabbed the provisions. ¡®Thanks,¡¯ he said as he opened the sack and drew out a few morsels.

    Birds chirped nearby, filling out the solemnity of the moment with tinny music. Asphales chewed thoughtfully and observed the clearing around them. The autumn-stained expanses of the forest had given way to evergreens here. He reasoned the southern half of Gohenur must be comprised of different trees. Still, what a strange forest this was.

    Valinos spoke suddenly. ¡®Why do you fight?¡¯ he asked, but his voice was subdued and undirected¡ªalmost a mumble¡ªas if he was speaking to no one in particular.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry?¡¯ Asphales replied.

    Valinos did not clarify immediately. He took another bite of his food and then blinked. It seemed as though only then did he truly focus on what was around him. ¡®It¡¯s a question captain Ledner posed to me a few days ago,¡¯ he said. ¡®He asked me why I desire to fight.¡¯

    ¡®And what did you say?¡¯

    Valinos looked at Asphales, his glance panged with shame. ¡®I told him I fought for no one but myself. I thought I had nothing to fight for. But he showed me otherwise.¡¯

    Asphales said nothing in reply at first. He thought back to that morning when they had left Silnod¨¬r. A lifetime ago. Ledner had done the same thing to him, shown him how misguided his self-centredness had been. ¡®That sounds like Ledner, alright,¡¯ he said with a half-smile.

    ¡®But then in that battle,¡¯ Valinos continued, ¡®I focused on myself again. Even though I knew the company was important, I was driven to selfishness. And I saw that anger change me.¡¯

    ¡®The battle changed me as well,¡¯ Asphales said, lowering his eyes to the ground. ¡®I never thought my hands capable of such a thing. This weapon I hold¡­¡¯ he trailed off.

    ¡®You did what you had to. As did I.¡¯ When Asphales did not break the silence, Valinos continued. ¡®It was either us or them, Asphales. It¡¯s not like in the stories. You can feel the blood on your hands here, not just the ink of a storyteller.¡¯

    ¡®I know that now.¡¯

    ¡®I have no remorse for the bandits. They got their due. But the company¡­ The Guard died because of me. I¡¯m the one the bandits were after.¡¯

    ¡®What?¡¯ Asphales stammered. He was shocked, at first by the coldness of his friend¡¯s determination, but then by the revelation of the bandit¡¯s motives. ¡®How do you figure that? What do they want with you?¡¯

    ¡®It grates at me that I don¡¯t know, but the bandit I killed confirmed it with his own words. They were keeping me alive.¡¯Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡®So why do you think the Empire wants you as well?¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s just it, too. I¡¯m starting to believe the message we received in Silnod¨¬r was a forgery. Somehow, Shurun¡¯el used the Empire¡¯s messenger eagle to get me on the move. It¡¯s far too convenient that bandits pursue us and ambush us in the forest as we¡¯re transferred toward Fara¡¯ethar.¡¯

    ¡®But why wait at all? If they knew who and where you were, why not just come to Silnod¨¬r? Why delay until we were both escorted?¡¯

    ¡®I¡­ I don¡¯t know,¡¯ Valinos conceded, some of the confidence in his tone evaporating. ¡®But because I was wanted, those around me died. That I know for sure. And I put you in danger as well. I¡¯m sorry for that.¡¯

    Asphales sighed. ¡®We¡¯re so far from home, but I don¡¯t feel any closer to a destination. Questions drove us from Silnod¨¬r but we haven¡¯t run into any answers.¡¯

    ¡®I intend to find the answers. And that¡¯s what I will fight for. Captain Ledner said it¡¯s selfish to strive for yourself. But I realise that¡¯s the safest place to be. The anger I felt was right. It¡¯s better to shut myself off. I don¡¯t want this to happen again. Not to others. Not to you. I need to find who I am.¡¯

    ¡®So this is why you fight?¡¯

    ¡®Yes. I will fight for myself. They took it from me¡­ the place where I began to feel accepted. I lost comrades. I will take that guilt and sorrow and turn it on them. They will know. And I will make them regret ever looking for me.¡¯

    ¡®I see,¡¯ Asphales said. He sat. Cold venom and shattered glass. Valinos¡¯ certainty made him retreat even further. So this is what he had been thinking about. He felt the sorrow at the loss of company as well, but how should he act on it? By seeking vengeance? ¡®The truth is,¡¯ he said, ¡®I don¡¯t know what I fight for, or why. Why was I given the sword? What will I do with it?¡¯

    ¡®You were not given it, my friend. You chose this. And you will have to choose what to do with it, before long.¡¯

    ¡®Is this what we will be from now on? Is this what I am? What if I choose to drop the sword?¡¯ Asphales¡¯ hand moved to rest on his sheath. Anfr¨¬r was so heavy. He could drop this burden and¡­

    ¡®Asphales, I see potential and power. We could be so much greater than what our village saw in us. We don¡¯t have to spend the rest of our lives under their suspicious glares. We don¡¯t have to be pushed down anymore! Don¡¯t you see? This is our chance to find something for ourselves. It took the death of the company for me to see it.

    ¡®So,¡¯ he said as he stood up, ¡®I want to see this through. For whatever reason, we survived. We made it. If we stop now, we¡¯ll never find answers. We¡¯ll never put the company¡¯s death to right.¡¯

    Asphales nodded to himself. He still felt like a vessel driven by a midsummer storm, but this much was clear. He would not let the company¡¯s death be in vain. However conflicted he felt about the need to fight, whatever confusion still afflicted him about what was ahead, he determined then to carry on.

    ¡®And Asphales,¡¯ Valinos began unsurely, ¡®fighting for myself doesn¡¯t mean fighting by myself. I know it¡¯s selfish to ask, and perhaps foolish, but will you stand by me? I don¡¯t want my quest to hurt you, but I realise I cannot do this on my own. Besides, we still have to find out what the Empire would want with a fisherman.¡¯

    Asphales looked up and saw the familiar grin painted on his friend¡¯s face. In spite of all the turmoil, he felt energised. He was glad to see something of Valinos again, though it felt like looking into a broken mirror. He rose. ¡®The answers are waiting at Fara¡¯ethar. Let¡¯s find our place in this.¡¯

    Asphales and Valinos grabbed their packs and headed back out of the outcrop to where their humble vessel waited on the banks. The Valarion flowed on, meandering away through endless forest south, to where Fara¡¯ethar awaited. As Asphales boarded the craft, his thoughts turned to the castle once more. What would he find? The palace of legend, guarded by countless elite warriors? The bastion of the Elders¡¯ influence, their gift to a struggling people?

    Or would it be another shattered instance of his fantasies crumbling under the weight of real life? But despite the disappointments so far, Asphales held on doggedly that his stories held a kernel of truth. He set out with his mind full of wishes and dreams. Beneath him, the river rolled on heedless, heartless.

    The ride passed quickly. They travelled briskly and largely unnoticed, with various woodland creatures not sparing more than a curious glance. The hours glided by. The sun lowered, the sky reddened, and the shade of trees deepened around them. Valinos also proved to be more talkative this day, and they spoke of many things, memories and mellow hopes. The last of their provisions depleted as they rode on, speaking and sliding along their watery course.

    Eventually the smell of brine permeated the air like the waft of fresh bread around a bakery. The sweet forest scent was replaced by the saltiness of the ocean¡ªa freshness of a different kind. The smell of home. Trees thinned around them and vistas of marshy soil opened up before them. At the Valarion¡¯s delta, the watercourse split into many veins as it deposited into the Western Sea. This was the final leg of their journey. After days of compacted forest, the open expanse was a welcome sight.

    They reached the coast as the sun fell into the sea. The distant waves swallowed the fire. Looking on, Asphales wanted to keep going, to drift out to open sea. He was reminded of Silnod¨¬r. Of things long ago. Of his father. If he treaded the billowing expanse would he find him? No. But would he remember more? Perhaps if he only stood long enough among the rolling waves, if only the frothing of the sea could wash the dross from his memories so he could see clearly. How he wanted direction, a compass to steer by. Something to take him to remembrance.

    But Fara¡¯ethar was the goal now. Asphales steered the craft into the leftmost vein, intending to ground the boat on the soft soil when they approached the shoreline. The inlet took them eastward and the vessel came to a halt beside a ridge. The labyrinth of the river¡¯s arms continued onward toward the beach, but this made as good a place as any for landing. A lightly paved road snaked its way up and over the hill in front of them. Asphales realised they could follow it and walk the rest of the way to the castle.

    He grabbed his pack and stepped out. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, taking it all in. With the forest behind him, the sea in front of him, and the sky above him, this place seemed to exude freedom. The rush of anticipation returned, the excitement as to what he would find at Fara¡¯ethar.

    ¡®Well, we made it,¡¯ Valinos called from behind.

    ¡®Almost,¡¯ Asphales said, turning to him with a smile. ¡®We still have to lay eyes on the castle. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll see where we¡¯re headed once we cross this hill.¡¯

    But no sooner had Asphales stepped foot on the pavement than the sound of clopping hooves split the evening. A rider charged furiously over the ridge, ignoring the lay of the road and instead riding straight down. The rider, clad in dark colours and elegant silver, sat astride a large black horse. A castle official, perhaps? He rushed past, narrowly avoiding Asphales and speeding on toward the forest. The horseman disappeared down the road, following the path back into the tangle of trees.

    The rider¡¯s force made Asphales recoil and he stumbled back, collapsing to the ground. As he lay dazed, eyes facing upwards, he did not have time to feel annoyance or confusion at what had transpired. Something caught his attention. Something impossible.

    ¡®What was that all about?¡¯ Valinos asked, eyes after the rider.

    But Asphales did not answer. He did not pay heed. He rose abruptly and dashed to the edge of the hill. His eyes never left the sky. There, above him, a piece of land rested in the clear, cloudless expanse. Against all logic and imagination, a massive rocky mound floated like an island on a skyward sea suffused with evening¡¯s red and orange.

    Asphales stared at it breathlessly. He could make out the distinct shapes of mountain ranges and tell-tale patches of green forest. Rough rocky crags hung like stalactites underneath the formation. It looked to be ripped up from its place of origin. His heart pounded as he traced an imaginary line below the rock to the surface of the sea.

    Directly beneath the floating land, Asphales saw another impossibility. In the distance, the sea was¡­ wrong. Instead of the expected flat surface, there was a trench-like opening in the ocean. Eastward, the sea gaped in an elongated shape that Asphales guessed matched the chunk of rock floating above. Around this fissure, the currents fell as waterfalls into the endless abyss.

    Asphales¡¯ gaze darted between the heavens and the hole, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Everything else seemed normal, functioning undisturbed by this peculiar phenomenon.

    Valinos came up the hill behind him. ¡®What are you look¡ª¡¯ he started to say, but stopped short.

    Was this the sky-bound land? Was this the result of Ulm¨¬r¡¯s disastrous reign? How had he never glimpsed it? How come no travellers mentioned it? Then Asphales recollected that men in Silnod¨¬r seldom spoke of their travels, and they did not venture far. But what about the scar in the sea? Asphales wondered whether the north of the Silent Sea featured similar trenches. The sailors and fishermen he knew warned against sailing too far north, but they had never mentioned why. When asked, their faces darkened and their lips tightened.

    Did this vindicate the stories? A rush of emotions flooded through him. He was uncertain how to process it all. He stood dumbfounded and awestruck. If this was true, what did it mean for the other details in the history? As always, the story reminded him of his parents. Standing here, staring up at the faraway land, he saw faint recollections, snippets and fragments of memory. From what he could tell, his parents had always spoken of the story as factual. What he read in the velvet-bound volume reinforced what he had always known. Was the story of the book and that of the world truly one and the same? And would he find his place in it here?

    ¡®Valinos, this is¡­¡¯ he began, but he was unsure how to finish. Valinos had always doubted the stories. But after all that had happened recently, this did not feel like the right time to correct him. He stood there alongside Valinos, two figures absorbed by the incomprehensible.

    ¡®Asphales, look,¡¯ Valinos said, pointing elsewhere, to the east. ¡®That¡¯s where we¡¯re going.¡¯

    Asphales¡¯ diverted his gaze from the suspended rock. His eyes fell to the sight Valinos gestured toward. Before him, the expansive shipyard of Guladran spread along the shore. Far grander than the docks of Silnod¨¬r, the shipyard was a conglomeration of bustling piers and busy warehouses. Countless vessels lay moored along the edges, while workers and other sailors disembarked and mingled with the throng. Altogether, the docks consisted of uneven and chaotic shapes against the uniform blankness of the sky.

    Further back, the walled districts of Guladran itself cast shadows in the dying light. Divided wards were arranged evenly into sections. Maze-like arrays of buildings sprawled behind the walls in each section, surrounding a huge, jutting cliff towering over the coast.

    And there, perched proudly on that cliff, was Fara¡¯ethar.

    Big as a mountain.

    Tall as the clouds.

    Luxurious and all of gold and marble.

    Well, the guards may not have had the most accurate descriptions of the castle, but it was magnificent. It took Asphales¡¯ breath away. Fara¡¯ethar loomed larger than the cliff it rested on. More prominent than a mountain peak, its summit scraped the sky. Ornate towers and spires commanded attention and reached upward, their marble-like facades shining gold in the sunset. The roofs at dizzying heights of the fort were painted in burnished blue. Windows dotted the structures all along and up to the upper levels of the keep.

    Lower down the castle, the curtain wall made the fortress seem impenetrable. Reinforced battlements and bulwarks which melded with the cliff-face surrounded the central raised building; a colossal citadel engraved and embossed with intricate lines and enamelled designs. Even from this distance, Asphales could see the balconies and alcoves rippling the exterior of the tower.

    At the bottom level, protruding outward and nestled between arches in the ramparts, was what Asphales assumed to be the Lion Gate. The gate¡¯s mouth was enormous, set around pillars which formed stony jaws. The metal grating protecting the entrance was raised. The gate stood invitingly. Barely visible between other buildings, the path leading into the castle led outward from the gatehouse and blended into the far end of Guladran¡¯s districts where it was obscured entirely. That would be the entrance they would take to arrive at the castle.

    So this was Fara¡¯ethar. Its scope and scale were beyond Asphales¡¯ imagination. It sat proudly like a granite regent ruling from a throne of stone. He looked to Valinos wordlessly. Neither could say anything.

    ¡®Well,¡¯ Asphales intoned at last, ¡®let¡¯s go. We should reach it before nightfall.¡¯ He shouldered his pack and took his first stride toward Fara¡¯ethar. Valinos nodded, and they both set out, heading first for the docks of Guladran, eyes and heart set on the stronghold on the horizon.

    The road took them through the first few establishments of Guladran¡¯s shipyard. As they joined the crowds around the wharf, the commotion grew around them. More people than Asphales had ever seen milled to and fro, carrying wares, shouting instructions, or tending to the various tasks demanded of them. There were the tall, fair-skinned people¡ªdark of hair and eyes¡ªwho were familiar to him. But others, light-haired, bright-eyed, of all statures and states, also bustled throughout the place. With sharp features and skin tones unlike his own, Asphales guessed they must be citizens of other regions. No surprise, as Guladran was Anardes¡¯ central port, if its busyness was any indication.

    The workers¡¯ garbs were as varied as their complexions. Though many wore the ragged sailor¡¯s coat and undistinguished, practical gear, other attires could be spotted also. Those who seemed to be in charge sported particularly brighter colours and fancier embroidered shirts and cloaks. As Asphales looked around, he was dismayed to see even a few Imperial guards patrolling. Their steel outfits and scarlet mantles anguished him with their familiarity.

    But beside the people, Asphales was also impressed by the infrastructure and equipment. He noted the diversity of galleys and galleons, caravels and cruisers. The range far outmatched the ships he had seen and known in Silnod¨¬r. Sails from various vessels all around him curled up, like flowers closing for the night.

    As he walked on, one particular boat grabbed Asphales¡¯ attention. A huge warship was docked at an otherwise unassuming pier. Though its gangplank was set, there was a curious absence of longshoremen and other attendants. A bare crew seemed to labour about the deck, far fewer than were necessary to man such a vessel.

    Other dockworkers nearly bumped into Asphales as he stood transfixed on the ship. They cursed him for his idleness and shuffled away scowling. When Asphales faced away and was about to move on, one of the crewmembers on the galleon, an older man, called out to him and Valinos.

    ¡®Ho, lads!¡¯ he cried. ¡®You fellows look fit and strong. Would you help a decrepit old man?¡¯

    Asphales looked to Valinos, who only shrugged dissatisfiedly.

    ¡®Our pleasure,¡¯ Asphales called out with a smile. He did not wait for any resistance on Valinos¡¯ part.

    ¡®Wonderful! Come aboard.¡¯ The old man motioned toward the gangplank and returned to his duties.

    Asphales walked up the ramp, with Valinos following reluctantly. But he could not pass up the opportunity to stand aboard a majestic ship like this. Asphales felt all his sailor¡¯s instincts reawaken as he stepped on the deck. A pity the vessel would not sail this day.

    ¡®Thank you, lads,¡¯ the old man said as he came to greet them. Clearly, he commandeered this ship. He was clean-shaven and presentable, wearing a black jacket with silver designs woven throughout. He bore a curious eyepiece, but had kind eyes. He looked much like old Turos, had the man become a highborn captain and not a laborious fisherman. Asphales grew fond of the man quickly.

    ¡®I won¡¯t keep you,¡¯ the captain continued, ¡®but my men hurried off, and everyone else around here is occupied with their own vessel.¡¯

    ¡®Ah, it¡¯s no trouble, sir,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®This is a fine ship.¡¯

    ¡®Aye, the Golden Sunset is a right beauty. Well, let¡¯s begin while we still have the light.¡¯

    Asphales set down his possessions and got to work. His experience came in handy as he assisted securing the ship¡¯s tackle, unravelling the capstan, tying down the rigging, and hoisting the sails. He went about each task almost automatically, methodically.

    Asphales watched the old man at work. He was anything but fragile. There was a certain joy in his demeanour, a genuine love for the sea. As he went about the deck, the old man began a song. A hum at first, but it grew and formed into an ode to the retiring sun.

    Whence came the morning sun in its bright flame

    Arising slow, the star without a name

    Unburdened, shimmering it lifts its eye

    And gazes over all, proclaims its fame

    In brightness clad, it watches from on high

    So proud and stout, the guardian of the sky

    Careening ¡®long its course, it stands the same

    Shall flow of time its ancient reign deny?

    To where do you depart now, evening sun¡ª

    The tune faded into indistinct sounds as the old man moved away, grumbling at a particularly stubborn knot in the main ropes. The sun was barely visible over the western horizon now, and a blanket of night approached from the east.

    ¡®I recognise that song,¡¯ Asphales found himself calling out. ¡®The sailors I knew used to sing it.¡¯ He recalled hearing it in Silnod¨¬r. For all their differences, it seemed that sailors¡¯ shanties were the same everywhere, transcending boundaries of geography and status.

    The old captain chuckled. ¡®I should¡¯ve picked you for a seaman,¡¯ he said as he came closer. ¡®You certainly know your way around a ship. I¡¯m impressed.¡¯

    Asphales smiled at the old man¡¯s satisfaction.

    ¡®But I¡¯m not surprised you know the song, if that¡¯s the case. We seafarers have been the same since the beginning. They say the first men were sailors. They trod upon the main in search of new-formed lands. Not long after starlight gave us breath, we wandered. No wonder it is our nature to explore. We all share and inherit the same songs. Orineth himself, the first sailor, was a man of music.¡¯

    Asphales quietly gasped. These stories reached further back than any he had known. The first people? His book had only hinted at the origin of men. He felt a sudden hunger for the stories of this place. There was so much more he could learn. He found himself looking up again, gazing at the land suspended in mid-air. Could this grizzled captain confirm his suspicions?

    ¡®Is that land above us¡­¡¯ Asphales began to ask, ¡®Is that what I think it is? I know the stories of Ulm¨¬r¡¯s madness and the rending of the world, but I never thought I would actually see it.¡¯

    ¡®Oh, you do?¡¯ the old man said, eyebrows raised. ¡®There aren¡¯t many who even give thought to such things. Most take the shape of the world for granted, without regard for what has happened. How quickly do lays become legends.¡¯

    Asphales was surprised by the melancholy in the captain¡¯s voice.

    ¡®But yes, that is the Sundered. It is the land separated from Anardes when King Ulm¨¬r ruled. So this is your first time seeing this? You¡¯re not from around here, are you?¡¯

    The Sundered. So it was true.

    ¡®No, in fact. We came from Silnod¨¬r. We¡¯re meant to¡ª¡¯ he stopped himself, remembering the lost company.

    ¡®Forgive me. I don¡¯t mean to pry, but you are far from home. And you carry weapons. What brings you to Fara¡¯ethar?¡¯ There was a keen, inquisitive glint in the old man¡¯s eyes.

    ¡®We were meant to arrive with an Imperial company. Our group was captained by one Ledner.¡¯ Asphales lowered his eyes to the deck, pausing before he could recount what befell them in the forest. ¡®But we were ambushed in Gohenur. A group of bandits attacked us. Captain Ledner, along with all the other guards, fell trying to protect me and my companion. We were nearly outrun during our escape, but a stranger in the forest assisted us and set us on our way. We followed the river and have only this evening arrived here.¡¯

    Silence descended on the galleon. The other crew members, who had clearly overheard the conversation, stood stunned. The captain¡¯s face was scrunched in grave concern.

    ¡®Who are you, boy?¡¯ he asked at last.

    ¡®I am Asphales Es¨¦linor. And that is my companion, Valinos.¡¯ The old man turned to face Valinos, who gave a curt nod of acknowledgment.

    ¡®I see. And I suspect you need to reach Fara¡¯ethar?¡¯

    ¡®Yes. We were summoned by Amaleron over a tide ago.¡¯

    The captain nodded. ¡®I¡¯m sorry to have held you up. Let¡¯s hurry. I can take you there.¡¯

    Asphales widened his eyes in shock. ¡®Would you do that?¡¯

    ¡®Yes. You two have been through a lot, it seems. And you carry grave news. It¡¯s the least I can do. Besides, we¡¯re just about done here, thanks to your efforts.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you so much, ah¡ª¡¯ Asphales stammered, realising he did not know the old man¡¯s name.

    ¡®I am the oldest pup among the dogs of war,¡¯ he said.  ¡®Call me Nadros.¡¯

    Nadros. The name seemed so familiar, but Asphales could not place where he had heard it before. He had no time to dwell on the matter, either, as the old captain motioned to all aboard to move out. They stepped off the ship in a hurry, disengaging the gangplank once on the pier. Nadros sent a few of the men to stow it away in a nearby warehouse. Asphales and Valinos followed on.

    Nadros led them through the dockyard and into the districts of Guladran. Asphales noticed other men gave them strange, almost revered looks, as if they were travelling with a dignitary. Who was the man escorting them? He kept turning the puzzle of the man¡¯s name in his mind, but no solutions came. He was also distracted by the immensity of the city. Alleys and streets stretched out endlessly in every direction, creating an intricate jungle of brick and stone. With night falling around them, torches flickered to life at every corner, but each alleyway led to darkness. He realised without the captain¡¯s guidance, he would have become hopelessly lost in the tangle of buildings. Fara¡¯ethar loomed ahead of them, the grey giant drawing closer with each turn.

    At a crossing, Nadros suddenly stopped. ¡®This isn¡¯t the most savoury district,¡¯ he warned them, ¡®but it¡¯s the quickest way through. Guladran takes in the dregs and the dainties, so there be swindling ahead. Keep your wits close about you, and your wallets closer.¡¯ He hurried on, avoiding the gazes of hooded, shady residents.

    That reminder set Asphales thinking about his means. How would the measly sums he and Valinos brought see them through whatever waited ahead? Fortunately, they made it across Guladran without losing a single den. Still, he feared he was still far short of what it took to live in the nation¡¯s capital.

    But his thoughts were once again interrupted as they reached the Lion Gate. Guards and lit torches lined the way to the massive doorways of Fara¡¯ethar. The road that King Ulm¨¬r once walked. As they approached the castle, each detail that had captured Asphales from afar only gained more impressiveness and elicited more wonder. And at once, it all fell into place. The galleon. The crowd¡¯s reaction. The man¡¯s authority. Amarant Nadros, the Ageless.

    ¡®Open the gate!¡¯ he shouted. Soldiers saluted and manned the windlass.

    Asphales breathed in. He stood on the threshold of his dreams.

 Chapter Nine - Names Within the Night

    The Lion Gate creaked open. Several men behind the barricade heaved and operated a mechanism which drew moans from the gate. The massive doorways, patterned with entwining branches of gold and feline motifs, gradually gave way to a courtyard steeped in shadow. Polished cobblestone spread ahead in every direction. Flickering firelight illuminated portions of buildings silhouetted against the deepening sky. The gates finally settled to a stop with a deep metallic clang.

    Standing before the outspread entrance, Asphales felt rushing excitement, like opening a parcel or a chest. Only this was no mere present, but the chance to enter a castle of legend. All the pain and confusion of the previous days had been for this. He fought hard to calm his quivering lips.

    ¡®Alright, boys,¡¯ Nadros said, walking ahead. ¡®Let¡¯s get you settled in.¡¯ He turned to face Asphales. The corner of his mouth curled into a wrinkled smile. ¡®Welcome to Fara¡¯ethar.¡¯

    Asphales turned to Valinos with an apprehensive look. Valinos nodded, and the two stepped through the gates and into the bailey of Castle Fara¡¯ethar. They followed the aging Amarant, who walked ahead briskly through a sparse crowd of servants and soldiers. The inhabitants of the castle saluted the old man as he passed them.

    The castle surroundings engulfed Asphales in awe and he could not help looking all around him to grasp every detail. The courtyard was flanked by two watchtowers parallel to the gate he had just entered through, and he could see more guards patrolling the upper levels of the stone structures. The towers seemed to rise naturally in layers out of the battlements of the perimeter wall providing a circle of protection. As Asphales followed the length of the wall he noted other keeps posted at intervals around the barricade. Impenetrable and well-defended.

    His wandering eyes fell onto what seemed to be the central building of the castle complex, a building he had easily spotted from the hill outside Guladran. Three sides of the commanding fortress were visible, the rest receding in the darkened distance. Enormous steps forming a dais served as the foundation of the building. From there, the citadel rose in thinning spires and flat walls, all masoned with immaculate precision and detail. Other smaller, but no less impressive, structures stood on either side of the colossal hall. Together, the skyline of Fara¡¯ethar reached up toward the infinite black canvas.

    Asphales walked on beneath the intimidating gaze of looming buildings, and passed through overhanging banners lining the courtyard. Each one carried the image of a roaring lion in its black and golden silk, looking particularly fierce in the harsh light of torches. The Lion of Anardes had its den in Fara¡¯ethar, it seemed.

    On the castle grounds, the few people bustled with activity. A legion of soldiers marched in unison along the courtyard, probably heading for the barracks. Their discipline was impressive. Line upon line of spears stuck out like blades of steel grass and bobbed rhythmically. The rigidity of the Imperial company was only a glimpse at what true military regimen looked like. Were these soldiers part of a mane?

    Asphales saw other personnel within the walls also. Castle servants wearing waistcoats and loose trousers sauntered between buildings. As Nadros approached the central structure, one particular servant came forward. Tall, thin, and gaunt-faced, he nevertheless carried himself with portly presence.

    ¡®Who disturbs the castle¡¯s peace at such an hour?¡¯ he called.

    ¡®Ah, Ithil¨¬r!¡¯ Nadros replied. ¡®Just the man I was looking for.¡¯

    ¡®Nadros, you old coot. I should have known it¡¯s you.¡¯ Despite the man¡¯s light-hearted words, there was no laughter in his voice and no softening of his countenance. It was as if the servant¡¯s face stiffened into a permanent grouchy complexion.

    Nadros snorted a laugh and then turned to Asphales and Valinos. ¡®This is Ithil¨¬r, master of accommodation and service. I leave you in his good hands.¡¯

    Before Asphales could voice his dismay at losing the company of the old sailor, Ithil¨¬r spoke first. ¡®Fine, leave me with these troublemakers,¡¯ he groaned. ¡®Who are they, anyway?¡¯

    ¡®Expected visitors, Ithil¨¬r. They¡¯re arrivals from Silnod¨¬r.¡¯

    ¡®I was under the impression there would be only one. I see you¡¯ve doubled my workload. How wonderful.¡¯

    Valinos seemed to have perked up at that comment and Asphales caught his troubled gaze, but said nothing.

    ¡®Yes, well life is full of anomalies,¡¯ Nadros chided. ¡®Two recruits instead of one. A servant acting like a master.¡¯

    ¡®A sixty-year old Amarant,¡¯ Ithil¨¬r added.

    Nadros took the jibe in good spirit, roaring out a good sailor¡¯s laugh.

    ¡®An Amarant?¡¯ Valinos asked, narrowing his eyes at the old man.

    ¡®Hmm? Oh yes, that¡¯s right. Amarant Nadros at your service,¡¯ the sailor said while stretching out an arm. ¡®How do you think I could afford something as fine as the Golden Sunset? And just between you and me,¡¯ Nadros said as he shifted his eyepiece almost nervously, ¡®that ship is the only reason I took the job.¡¯

    Valinos did not ease his suspicious stare, causing the old Amarant to burst into another round of laughter. Ithil¨¬r simply shook his head. Asphales looked on the exchange amusedly. His mind recalled the joviality of the company at the tavern.

    ¡®And if you want to keep your job, may I suggest you attend the meeting currently taking place?¡¯

    ¡®Oh blackened bones of the ocean, man!¡¯ Nadros cursed with a chuckle. ¡®I haven¡¯t forgotten. My mind hasn¡¯t succumbed to old age just yet. Anyway, thank you for coming out, Ithil¨¬r. Please, show these fine lads to their lodgings tonight. Come on, boys, introduce yourselves.¡¯

    ¡®My name is Asphales,¡¯ he said.

    ¡®Valinos.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, yes, your names. Don¡¯t just throw them at me,¡¯ Ithil¨¬r said. ¡®Who you are remains to be seen. Now, wait here, please. I will check with the steward as to what is to be done with you. Your appearance tonight has been highly irregular. Nadros, you best come along. Amaleron is waiting for you.¡¯

    Ithil¨¬r walked off without a word, expecting to be followed. The servant¡¯s manner was decidedly unservant-like, Asphales thought. Although Nadros outranked the servant in both age and status, Ithil¨¬r seemed to be almost insubordinate in his task.

    Nadros turned to Asphales and Valinos and sighed. ¡®Ah, don¡¯t mind him, lads,¡¯ he said. ¡®Ithil¨¬r treats everyone as if they were a stain on his shoe. But he¡¯s loyal, and agreeable enough when the mood strikes him.¡¯

    ¡®Doesn¡¯t happen often, I assume?¡¯ Valinos said.

    Nadros shrugged. ¡®Anyway, that¡¯s the Hall of the Elders,¡¯ he said, pointing to the large central building. ¡®It¡¯s where I¡¯m headed. But I need to know a few things before I go. See, I¡¯ve been mulling over your story, Asphales, and the whole thing makes a tragic sort of sense. But yours aren¡¯t the only ominous tidings here tonight. Do you know who it was that ambushed your company? And what happened to them?¡¯

    ¡®It was a man named Shurun¡¯el,¡¯ Valinos said, the ice in his voice barely hidden. ¡®We killed his companions. But he escaped.¡¯

    Nadros ran a hand over his creased forehead. ¡®That is¡­¡¯ he trailed. ¡®I see. That is useful information.¡¯ The Amarant kept his voice composed but something seemed to be raging behind his eyes, like a tumult beneath the calm surface of the sea. ¡®Keep this among yourselves for now. You¡¯ll have a chance to relay the news properly when you¡¯re gathered to the steward. I must be off. Starlight guide you.¡¯

    Making the now familiar gesture, Nadros went off after Ithil¨¬r. The two walked up the stepped plateau, passing another figure who idled by the stairs. ¡®What is that ridiculous thing on your eye?¡¯ he heard Ithil¨¬r ask as the two men disappeared beyond the doorways of the Hall.

    Asphales followed the Amarant and the servant until they were out of sight. And there, standing near the ten steps leading up to the Hall of the Elders, he saw Ser¨¬n.

    No, that was impossible.

    The night seemed to have gotten colder. A hundred useless firelights could not warm the chill that crept into Asphales. A hundred flickering images went through his head, snippets of laughter and song, flashes of mirth and chatter. A carefree man, lute in hand, cheer in heart. And then silenced music.

    Asphales stammered forward, driven by the memory of a guard who had taken him under his wing, and yet repelled by the image of a ghost. As he approached the man by the steps¡ªwho was speaking contentedly to a female servant¡ªevery aspect of the stranger¡¯s character stung. The same liquid tone of voice. The same amiable glint in his eyes. The same golden hair and blue eyes. But the younger features told him this was not Ser¨¬n.

    ¡®So if you run into Nelesa, tell her to meet me in Commons,¡¯ the young man was saying. ¡®She¡¯s probably buried in her books somewhere in the Hall of Records.¡¯

    ¡®Of course, my lord,¡¯ the servant said with a bow.

    ¡®No need for the formality, Mara. You¡¯re beautiful enough to be a lady in your own right.¡¯ The young man flashed a smile. The girl blushed, bowed again, and then hurried off.

    Asphales approached slowly, but was stopped in his tracks by a look from the young man.

    ¡®Good evening, fellows. You¡¯re looking lost. Can I help?¡¯

    ¡®Ah, yes,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®We¡¯re new to Fara¡¯ethar. Fresh arrivals.¡¯

    ¡®Aha,¡¯ the young man exclaimed. ¡®I saw you come in with Nadros just earlier. Are you two new hired hands or something?¡¯

    Asphales hesitated. ¡®Yeah, something like that.¡¯

    ¡®Splendid. I am El¡¯enur Tharadin. My pleasure.¡¯

    ¡®Asphales Es¨¦linor, and this is Valinos.¡¯

    El¡¯enur looked them over briefly and nodded to both of them in turn. ¡®I¡¯m headed to Commons. Would you like to join me? I can show you around the castle grounds a bit.¡¯

    ¡®Ah, but Ithil¨¬r said¡ª¡¯

    El¡¯enur laughed. ¡®Don¡¯t worry about him. The master-servant is used to running around after me. Just pin the grief we¡¯ll cause him on me.¡¯ He winked, and El¡¯enur¡¯s golden hair swished as he turned to leave. ¡®Come on,¡¯ he said.

    Asphales was surprised at El¡¯enur¡¯s confidence and comfort with the goings-on of the castle. Though he did not fancy disobeying the grumpy servant, his curiosity and impatience to see more of Fara¡¯ethar won him over. He complied reluctantly and followed the young man. Valinos trailed after him.

    ¡®We¡¯ve just left the Hall of the Elders,¡¯ El¡¯enur said as he stepped off the dais and turned into an alley leading away from the main courtyard. ¡®It¡¯s sort of the centrepiece of Fara¡¯ethar, the place where council is held. There¡¯s a meeting going on right now, but meetings are boring. I¡¯d probably be kicked out anyway. I¡¯m also told it¡¯s where a king would sit, if we had one.¡¯

    Asphales shot a glance back toward the doors of the Hall as they walked into the alleyway. An empty throne room? There had not been a ruler since Ulm¨¬r, that much was certain. With the pieces of the story falling into place, he realised that the memory of the Dragonking must have so tainted the throne that no king had been put in place again.

    ¡®So who rules Anardes, then?¡¯ Valinos asked.

    ¡®Well, that would be Amaleron, our steward, though he himself would not see it that way. The line of stewards has been waiting for a king, supposedly. I don¡¯t know who¡¯s worth waiting this long for, honestly. So for all intents and purposes, he reigns. But Anardes is something of a military beast as well, so the Amarants have almost sovereign ruling power. Then there are other independent council bodies for each region.¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯re quite savvy for someone who seems to shun politics, El¡¯enur,¡¯ Asphales commented.

    El¡¯enur chuckled. ¡®Not by choice. But you don¡¯t get to where I am without weaving through politics. You¡¯ve got to play the game, unfortunately.¡¯

    ¡®What do you do? Where do you fit in the system?¡¯

    El¡¯enur slowed down and turned with a sly smile on his face. ¡®I¡¯m the second-in-command of the archery mane. Only behind Amarant Darius.¡¯

    ¡®What?¡¯ Asphales found himself bursting. ¡®But you seem so¡­¡¯

    ¡®Young? Yes. I am only nineteen. But I worked hard to get here. I saw and lived through the hell of Feres firsthand.¡¯ El¡¯enur¡¯s eyes hardened into a steel blue. There was pride behind the young man¡¯s eyes, but more than that, a genuine determination to prove himself also. Asphales did not recognise the reference to Feres, but he reasoned it must have been a battle. For someone to experience so much at such a young age was extraordinary, he thought.

    ¡®But all that is behind me. Let¡¯s continue our tour, shall we?¡¯

    With that, El¡¯enur led the way again, offering comments on the functions of the structures around Fara¡¯ethar. He explained that a ring of five halls surrounded the central building. They passed the Hall of Revelry, more commonly known as the Feast Hall. On the other side stood the Hall of Recovery, the medical ward, and the Hall of Records, or the library. Tucked away at the back of the castle grounds was the Hall of Residence, the main building which housed the dwellers of Fara¡¯ethar.

    But their destination tonight was the Hall of Retreat, often referred to as the Commons. It stood adjacent to the Feast Hall, to the left of the Hall of the Elders, and it held smaller functions which did not require the spacious arrangements of a full feast. It was also used as a general space for rest and recreation for off-duty guards and soldiers.

    As they stepped through the well-worn wooden doors of the Hall, the contrast with the rest of Fara¡¯ethar was startling. The Commons seemed to be cosy, inviting, and relaxed. The d¨¦cor was reminiscent of a tavern, with dim lighting and unintentional scattering of furniture. Wood was the predominant material inside, rather than the finely sculpted stone which seemed to be the choice substance in the castle¡¯s design. The place smelled of warm meals and liquor. People lounged around at tables, enjoying drinks, games, and raucous conversations.

    A larger, bald man rose from his table and approached El¡¯enur when he noticed the newcomers. ¡®There you are, sprout,¡¯ he growled. ¡®Come, join us for simeh. I¡¯ve nearly drained Resina dry. It¡¯s time I beat you as well.¡¯ There was a groan from someone at his table.

    ¡®Not tonight, Guldar,¡¯ El¡¯enur replied. ¡®I¡¯m waiting for someone. Also, I have guests to take care of.¡¯

    ¡®Ah, of course, of course,¡¯ Guldar said with a mocking pout. ¡®Figures you¡¯re ¡®fraid to lose.¡¯ He turned to go. ¡®I hope none of you louts have changed my cards while I was up,¡¯ he called gruffly as he returned to his playing companions.

    El¡¯enur shook his head with a smile. ¡®Forgive my companion. He¡¯s rather fond of simeh, a card game he picked up from the East a few years ago. That is Guldar, the second-in-command of the cavalry, also under Darius, and a constant thorn in my side. Now, let¡¯s find a table.¡¯

    He brought them to an indistinct seating area near a corner. As soon as they sat down, a maid came by to take their order. She wore an unassuming worker¡¯s apron and had rich, golden-brown hair tied in swirling plaits around her head. Her alluring eyes of deep brown settled on El¡¯enur, waiting for the details.

    ¡®Would you two care for a drink?¡¯ he asked. ¡®I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ll save mine for later.¡¯

    ¡®Really?¡¯ the maid quizzed. ¡®You¡¯ve come back all the way from Kerena, and you¡¯re not even a bit thirsty?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m expecting someone,¡¯ El¡¯enur said. ¡®But still, seeing you is lovely enough, Ulfen.¡¯

    ¡®Always the charmer, El¡¯enur,¡¯ Ulfen said, ¡®but you¡¯re not your brother.¡¯

    Asphales choked. A pang of sickness struck him. He breathed deeply, trying to recollect himself. So his suspicions had been right. El¡¯enur was Ser¨¬n¡¯s younger brother¡­ What could he do? What could he say? ¡®No drinks for me,¡¯ he stammered.

    ¡®Me neither,¡¯ Valinos said, holding up his hand.

    ¡®Are you alright?¡¯ Ulfen asked. ¡®You¡¯re looking pale. I¡¯ll bring you some water, at least.¡¯ She rushed off to the back area of the hall, where another man seemed to be busy minding a stew. She returned a moment later with three mugs of cold water. Asphales downed his and then refocused. El¡¯enur was staring at him.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡®So, you went to Kerena?¡¯ Asphales asked, trying to take his mind off things.

    ¡®That¡¯s right. Returned this evening, in fact. Would you care to hear the story?¡¯

    Asphales nodded. The chance to hear an account of Kerena from a firsthand traveller excited him. He listened with rapt attention as El¡¯enur recounted his expedition with Amarant Darius. But all along, Asphales was hampered by the nagging fact he held the death of El¡¯enur¡¯s brother from him. It hovered between them like a weighty pendulum, poised to fall.

    ¡®But that¡¯s enough from me,¡¯ El¡¯enur said suddenly. ¡®What about you two? Where are you from?¡¯

    Asphales dreaded the question. He did not want to reveal too much. ¡®Our ignorance is that obvious, is it?¡¯

    El¡¯enur beamed a consoling smile.

    ¡®We¡¯re from the north coast,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®I¡¯m only familiar with the Silent Sea.¡¯

    ¡®Ah. And what did you do up there?¡¯

    ¡®I was a sailor, of sorts,¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®I worked for a blacksmith,¡¯ Valinos answered.

    ¡®Right. Are you two planning to stay here? Nadros is always looking for help, and Resina would love to have an assistant in her armoury,¡¯ El¡¯enur said as he glanced at Guldar¡¯s table where the armourer in question sat. Their game of simeh was still going.

    ¡®I suspect not,¡¯ a deep voice boomed behind them, startling Asphales and interrupting the conversation. Ithil¨¬r. ¡®Perhaps even the most basic instructions are beyond you two.¡¯

    Asphales turned, and it was only now that he got a better look at the head servant. Every feature of the man¡¯s face, from the deep-set eyes to the prominent cheekbones and sharp nose, bespoke displeasure. He stood expectantly, looking down at the three men.

    ¡®But there are still so many people to greet,¡¯ El¡¯enur complained. ¡®Surely we should treat our guests a bit better than this, don¡¯t you think? Please, indulge us a little.¡¯

    ¡®Fine.¡¯ Ithil¨¬r scanned the room in an instant, as if to look for people of note. ¡®Behind the bar you will find Ulfen and Filarin, masters of banquet, trade, and commerce. They say love is blind, but if you knew those two, you¡¯d realise it is also deaf, and mute, and whatever other ailments you care to describe.¡¯

    El¡¯enur chuckled at the brevity and frankness of Ithil¨¬r¡¯s descriptions. Asphales followed the servant¡¯s hands as he pointed.

    ¡®At the table you can see Guldar of the Mountains,¡¯ Ithil¨¬r continued. ¡®Head of cavalry and the more level-headed of Darius¡¯ two underlings.¡¯ El¡¯enur scowled at this comment. ¡®Beside him is Resina, master of armoury and weapons,¡¯ he said, gesturing toward the larger woman at the table. ¡®But I¡¯m sure she needs naught but her arms to kill you three scrawny derelicts.¡¯

    Next, Ithil¨¬r pointed toward a man sitting on the opposite side of the room. ¡®That is Hasel, master of avian communication. He¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Master of what?¡¯ Asphales interjected.

    ¡®It means he manages the messenger birds of the Empire,¡¯ Valinos said, keen eyes trained on the old man enjoying a drink.

    ¡®Yes, how wonderful of you to interrupt. There. Introductions all done.¡¯

    El¡¯enur threw up his hands in resignation. ¡®I applaud your succinctness, Ithil¨¬r. Now, what would you say of me?¡¯

    The servant lowered his unamused gaze onto him. ¡®This is El¡¯enur,¡¯ he declared, ¡®self-proclaimed archer extraordinaire and delinquent of the highest order. And master El¡¯enur, I see you¡¯ve already acquainted yourself with the scoundrels from Silnod¨¬r.¡¯

    Asphales winced inwardly. Oh no.

    ¡®Silnod¨¬r?¡¯ El¡¯enur asked. ¡®Now it makes sense. You¡¯re the ones collected by Ledner¡¯s company. So you arrived with my brother Ser¨¬n?¡¯

    Asphales¡¯ face darkened. His eyes sunk to the tavern floor. He shook his head gravely. ¡®No, he¡¯s not here,¡¯ he said distantly.

    El¡¯enur stood up roughly, knocking his chair over. ¡®Where is he? Where is the company?¡¯ he demanded. The commotion aroused the attention of the other patrons in the hall. In the silence that ensued, El¡¯enur surely knew the only answer that would follow.

    ¡®Was it the Order?¡¯ he asked in a soft, chilling tone.

    Asphales looked up weakly. He saw rage restrained in the young man¡¯s face. Even Ithil¨¬r showed something other than contempt as he looked on mutely. ¡®I don¡¯t know what that means,¡¯ Asphales pleaded, ¡®I¡¯m sorry.¡¯

    El¡¯enur shoved himself away from the table and stormed out of the hall, a heavy door slam announcing his departure. After many awkward moments of uncertain quiet, the others returned to their rehearsed positions. Ithil¨¬r asserted his presence once more by clearing his throat. ¡®Alright, young masters, let¡¯s be off as well.¡¯

    The walk to the Hall of Residence was sullen and grey. There was no sign of El¡¯enur. Asphales and Valinos followed the undeterred servant silently, around the length of the Hall of the Elders toward the rear of the castle complex where their dormitories awaited. The cool night air cleared some of the stuffy pressure that had plagued Asphales in the Commons, though perhaps that was more due to the weight of guilt he carried. He looked forward to the day¡¯s end.

    Turning right at the end of the Commons brought them beside what seemed to be the palace gardens. Flowers of all colours slept to a lullaby of crickets and other night insects. Neatly tended and arranged in exact rows, it was nature¡¯s only foothold in the castle grounds. As Asphales passed by them, he could not help but think of Ad¨¦lia and her quaint life among flowers in Gohenur.

    Eventually, the front of the Hall of Residence appeared before them. The strangely-shaped building was nestled between two tall spiralled towers which connected to the outer wall¡¯s keeps via covered walkways. Asphales craned his neck to view the heights of the towers. They reached higher than any other protruding spire in Fara¡¯ethar. Smaller passageways above were joined to the platforms to the sides of the residential hall. That would make an excellent observatory.

    The face of the building featured several entryways, attendants at the ready posted on each one. Ithil¨¬r paced ahead, stopping by one of the men and speaking inaudible instructions. The attendant disappeared a moment later, and Ithil¨¬r returned, his stern, businesslike expression pasted on his face once more.

    ¡®We have arrived,¡¯ he said. ¡®Listen carefully. I do not like repeating myself, like a tutor to a child. These shall be your living arrangements for the foreseeable future. I will show you to your quarters shortly. As to the matter of your arrival at Fara¡¯ethar, steward Amaleron will see you in the morning. Forestall your questions until then, would you? Now, follow me.¡¯

    The servant turned to lead but then spun around again abruptly, somehow maintaining a dignified composure. ¡®Your presence, master Valinos, is still something of a conundrum. Fortunately, a vacant room is available. Unfortunately, this means we shall all have to suffer your antics a while longer. Come along, now.¡¯

    Ithil¨¬r went ahead through the doors of the hall. Asphales glanced at Valinos and shrugged. Perhaps Valinos felt annoyance, but it was masked by the exhaustion of the journey. He walked on after the servant. Asphales followed, entering the foyer of the Hall of Residence.

    The opulence inside stunned him. After the humble holdings of the Commons, this hall seemed to be another world. Lush carpet lined the open space of the foyer, leading to rooms and stairs. Chandeliers hanging from bronze ceiling roses lit the high chamber with dazzling brilliance. Gone were the musty and sallow colours of the Commons, replaced with ceramic whites and creamy golds. No longer were they surrounded by homely tavern-like smells, but rather by an atmosphere which exuded pristine polish and sterility. However, Asphales did not have long to admire the aesthetics of the place. Ithil¨¬r walked briskly ahead, rounding a corner and ascending the stairs. Asphales and Valinos pursued him, and were led up to the fourth floor of the building. Well-lit walls comprised one side of the corridor, full windows looking out toward the castle grounds the other. Dozens of doors dotted the hallway.

    ¡®Here we are,¡¯ the servant said finally. He pointed to two respective doors nearby. ¡®Those will be your rooms. Now, anything else I can do for you?¡¯

    ¡®A bath and a barber, if you please,¡¯ Valinos said, scratching idly at the unkempt stubble that had sprouted around his normally neat facial hair. Asphales suddenly felt the grime of a tidelong journey.

    ¡®Good idea,¡¯ Ithil¨¬r commented. ¡®I¡¯ve seen pigpens more pleasant than you two. And I see you wish to discard the look of the brutish rogue and desire a more regal appearance. Very well. Baths are at the end of each floor,¡¯ he said with a gesture toward the end of the corridor. ¡®I trust you¡¯ll find your own way there. As for you, master Valinos, come along.¡¯ Ithil¨¬r started to strut down the hallway. ¡®Too bad the barber can¡¯t shave off that brooding attitude,¡¯ he mused.

    Valinos sighed. ¡®If I get thrown in the dungeons on my first night here,¡¯ he muttered, ¡®you¡¯ll know why.¡¯

    Asphales laughed softly. ¡®I wouldn¡¯t blame you.¡¯ He laid a hand on his friend¡¯s shoulder. ¡®Just wait until we get some answers, please. We¡¯ll work all this out tomorrow.¡¯

    Valinos offered a placating smile. ¡®We made it. I won¡¯t ruin it now, don¡¯t worry. See you in the morning.¡¯ He made off down the hall after the servant.

    Half a watch later Asphales¡ªbathed clean and refreshed¡ªentered his dormitory. He felt as if he dwelt in a stately manor. The same extravagant standard of decoration was present in his room also. He feared he was trespassing on some nobleman¡¯s residence, so rich did the furniture feel, especially compared with the existence he had known in his village. He dropped his pack inattentively near a couch and collapsed into his bed.

    Minutes passed. Hours, perhaps. The silence and solitude brought no sleep. It was not for want of fatigue or accommodation. Asphales lay tired in the most comfortable bed he had ever known, but rest escaped him. The ocean reverberated through his walls calmingly. Normally, the sounds of crashing waves soothed him, but tonight they beckoned.

    He rose. An idea sparked in his mind, and he knew he had to follow through. He opened the door to his chamber and slithered out. Finding his way down the dimmed corridor, Asphales spotted an inauspicious door, different to the others, at the end of the hall. Stepping through it quietly, he followed a narrow tunnel-like opening, ascending up stone steps. As he neared the end of the darkness, a cool night breeze hit him.

    He emerged out on an open platform, the same one he spotted from below earlier in the evening. Not content with the low ceiling above him which blocked the view of the sky, Asphales stepped to the edge of the platform, where the tower met an overpass into a neighbouring structure. He set foot out on the wall, holding himself steady with the edge of the overlooking platform. Then, in one deft manoeuvre, he heaved himself up onto the spired roof of the tower.

    Asphales rested against the blue tiles of the spire, releasing a contented and relieved breath. He had not dared to look directly down, but now, with even a short parapet preventing slippage, he braved the view. The castle grounds and gardens were an indistinct mess far below. Pinpricks of firelight dotted the courtyards. Only the upper reaches of the Hall of Elders rivalled the heights he had reached.

    Looking on, he saw the districts of Guladran sprawled at the castle¡¯s feet. The snaking alleyways, ordered in chaotic patterns like a fingerprint, showed signs of activity even at this late hour. To his left, the ocean roared restlessly. He felt the immensity of the dark sea whenever no other sounds crowded for attention.

    Was this foreign place to be his home now? What was there for him in Silnod¨¬r? It did not matter how hard he or Valinos worked, they would never be accepted there. The stain of their parents¡¯ abandonment sullied the entire family line, or so the residents of Silnod¨¬r held to. Asphales remembered the isolation, the toxic gazes of the villagers even as he and Valinos went about the tasks of children. Like a merciless tide, these thoughts swallowed up glimmers of a time before all that, a time when his father taught him navigation, when his mother laughed beside him. How many nights had wheeled by since that time?

    So tonight he watched the sky. Not the water. Not the memories. He admired the silent music of a thousand fires. As he looked up to the million voiceless notes tracing the edges of a song, he detected faint whispers among the stars, shapes hinting at a story. But they were fuzzy and opaque, like names within the night.

    Soon, rainclouds gathered on the horizon, obscuring the chance to stargaze, approaching the coast like a messenger carrying tidings of wrath and rage. The next day would bring new warmth, and with it, hopefully, clarity. Tomorrow would be a day for questions, a day for answers.

    * * *

    The forest glistered after morning rain. Droplets holding the world in their distorted lenses hung on leaf and lichen. The early dew gave the woods a diamond-like sheen, the light announcing a new day, the dawn of a new story. Singing. Sighing.

    Ad¨¦lia woke in her cabin that morning to the dance of sunlight and the song of daybreak. Soon she was outside, skipping among her water-kissed flowers. Her deep green dress trailed along the blue and gold, spinning and twirling among the red and violet. The garden delighted in the veil of moisture. Smitten. Smiling.

    The trees around her glowed with life and light. The forest was not easily swept away by the tides of time. It was not stricken under storm and showers, but rather invigorated. Ad¨¦lia held on to the constancy Gohenur provided. The woods protected her, like ancient guardians ever vigilant. Standing. Staying.

    Her flowers and her forest. It was all she had against the harrowing flood that swamped her. All she had against the black. Her home, her humble Gohenur, hemmed between giddy skies and graceful plains. Swinging. Swimming.

    She took it all in, for today she would depart. And departure was never easy.

    But it had to be done, as strange things were afoot. It began when the one-eyed man¡¯s bandits had disturbed the forest. The only men who trekked the woods were usually merchants and traders, friendly faces to whom Ad¨¦lia had grown accustomed and even done business with. But the bandits were proud men of ill intent, trespassers venturing into the secret heart of Gohenur uncaringly. Taking. Testing.

    So she had tracked them, pursued them through the forest, following the carnage they wreaked and destruction they inflicted. When Ad¨¦lia stumbled upon a haggard group of Imperial soldiers she knew the bandits had to be stopped. It was unfortunate that she had not been able to save more of them, only rescuing two fledgling warriors. Ad¨¦lia still grieved for the fallen men.

    The leader of the bandits himself, the man they called Shurun¡¯el, had escaped, unpunished for the damage he caused. She had noted the bronze clasp the man had sported with horror, found in Ledner¡¯s hand. The dead captain had seized it in their melee, it seemed. It was only a small thing, but it reminded her of things long ago. A shadowed face. A sea serpent. Fire. Shurun¡¯el had to be apprehended.

    But compassion had overruled her conviction. She had deferred the search for the one-eyed man in order to care for the wounded. Most curious of all had been the boy with eyes of jasper and the stories he told. Asphales Es¨¦linor. She had trusted him. Somehow she knew she could. Ad¨¦lia had even given him the name she seldom brought out into the open.

    Asphales Es¨¦linor. She felt the black tug at his name, attempting to pull it from her grasp and lock it away into nothing forever. Even as she reminisced, she clawed at the wound on her shoulder, a wound which still stung with the weight of cold steel.

    A single black tear fell, careening free from her face and landing among the crystal dewdrops on her flowers. A solitary black spot in a forest of glass.

    The boy had mentioned Silnod¨¬r. How strange these recent events had been. Like names thrown in a nightmare, every part of her brought out flashes of the past, a past she pushed away, buried in the depths of her heart. But despite the reminders, she had wanted to accompany the two to Fara¡¯ethar. Who were they? Not prisoners, but perhaps recruits? They had been escorted by a simple Guard, but Ad¨¦lia could not shake the foreboding feeling that something more was at work here. The bandits had targeted the company specifically, it seemed. For what purpose?

    And so, having seen Shurun¡¯el¡¯s injury, she realised the only place he would go is the Waypoint inn. But as she feared, the delay in her search meant she had not found the bandit leader himself, only news of his whereabouts. The innkeeper had mentioned a wounded man who strayed into the tavern and demanded care and provisions. He had set off toward the east shortly after, with only a small token as payment.

    Ad¨¦lia had returned, and here she stood, resolute to go to Fara¡¯ethar even if it meant distancing herself from her home once again. Duty demanded it. But for now, she had to make the most of her last moments in the forest. Castle walls never quite captured light like tree trunks, and gardens fenced by stone could not replace the beauty of the wild. Only old Dronam could somehow make cultivated flowers feel alive.

    She stepped through her glade, the beaming sun from the east setting it alight with lustre and longing. She unclasped the brooch holding her hair together. It loosened like a scarlet waterfall, torrents of red rushing down her shoulders. She enjoyed the fleeting freedom, but it was time for the song to end. Ad¨¦lia entered her shack, and from the outside it seemed as if she went into another part of the forest itself, so blended with the encircling trees did the little cabin rest in the woods.

    Inside, she began getting ready for the journey. She walked along her wooden floor, spying for objects she could bring with her. Her weapons were a given, but Ad¨¦lia always took something else as a memento or as a way to occupy herself. She passed her father¡¯s mounted spear.

    No, not today.

    She reached for more regular provisions; food for the road and clothes warmer than her current gown. As Ad¨¦lia paced her cabin, she found her latest work. She gazed at the near-finished painting, lacking only a touch of jasper. She lifted the canvas off its easel and stashed it carefully. It was time to equip herself. But before she could commence the process of strapping on her armour, further preparations were interrupted by a commotion from outside. The sounds of heavy hooves tore through the stillness of the morning. A horse whinnied and then all came to rest. That could only be¡­

    Ad¨¦lia stepped to her door and saw Ishak dismounting a large, black steed. That¡¯s Darius¡¯ horse, Mas¨¬lminur, she realised. The Amarant¡¯s destrier, bred for war and highly resistant, seemed weary. How long had Ishak pushed him? But Mas¨¬lminur still carried itself with an air of majesty. As soon as the beast was free of its rider, it shook its head mightily, spraying water. Ishak cursed and led it to a nearby tree, tying its halters to the trunk. Then he walked forward, eyes meeting Ad¨¦lia¡¯s, and kneeled.

    ¡®My lady Catena,¡¯ he said respectfully. Catena. That was her name among comrades in war. A name disconnected from the pain of who she really was. A title far removed from starlight.

    ¡®At ease, Ishak,¡¯ she said. ¡®You know you¡¯re welcome here.¡¯

    Ishak stood, wiping water from his brow and beard. The older man¡¯s trim facial hair was not quite grey, yet it was lightening like the slow rise of dawn. Ad¨¦lia had always appreciated Ishak¡¯s simplicity. Befitting his basic and serious appearance, he was attired in a casual black tabard tied with a white sash. The man emanated honour and strength even outside of his combat gear.

    ¡®Yes, my lady,¡¯ he said with a sigh of exhaustion. Marks of the journey were evident in his voice, around his eyes, and even on his clothes. Moisture ran down his coat in rivulets and the hems of his garments were stained with mud. It seemed that he had ridden through the storm to get here. What was so urgent? As her second-in-command, and one of the few who knew her location, Ishak was typically the one who brought her news that she was needed at Fara¡¯ethar. She had never seen him so desperate, however. Not even during the invasion at Feres.

    ¡®You look tired, Ishak. What has happened?¡¯

    ¡®You are needed at Fara¡¯ethar immediately. There has been a disturbance in Kerena which may prove significant.¡¯ Ad¨¦lia did not miss the edge in his voice.

    ¡®What disturbance?¡¯

    ¡®I don¡¯t know all the details, but Darius believes it is serious. Something requiring a council, it seems.¡¯

    ¡®Ah, Darius sent you? That is why you ride Mas¨¬lminur?¡¯

    ¡®Yes. That beast may be unruly but it was reliable.¡¯

    ¡®I see. How fortunate. I was about to set off toward Fara¡¯ethar myself. I may have information of my own to share.¡¯

    ¡®A question, if I may, my lady. I am actually surprised to still find you here. I expected to run into you on the road, along with the company. There¡¯s no sign of them at Fara¡¯ethar. Have they not arrived yet?¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia froze. ¡®What company, Ishak?¡¯

    ¡®A Guard led by Captain Ledner. At Amaleron¡¯s request, they were to collect someone from Silnod¨¬r. Ideally, they would¡¯ve met you on their return. I sent Niran ahead to inform you of this. If I find that the boy¡¯s been slacking off again...¡¯

    ¡®They¡¯re dead, Ishak,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said, reeling inwardly. ¡®I found them under attack a few days ago. I managed to rescue two men who said they were from Silnod¨¬r. I set them off on their way toward Fara¡¯ethar just two days before. But the others¡­ they were already gone. I never knew.¡¯

    Ishak slumped, eyes wide. ¡®Blessed Regulus! Has all the world gone mad?¡¯ He shook, scrunched knuckles turning white. ¡®Who did it?¡¯

    ¡®A man named Shurun¡¯el and his cohort. Most of his band was slaughtered in the conflict, but the leader escaped. I tracked him to the Waypoint and discovered that he has gone east.¡¯

    ¡®And you said the two men¡­ they¡¯re safe?¡¯

    ¡®Yes, they should be at the castle by now.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s something at least. Starlight preserve us, but this could¡¯ve gone so wrong.¡¯

    ¡®I feel so foolish!¡¯ Ad¨¦lia cried. ¡®Something so important happening right under my nose¡­¡¯

    ¡®You did what you could,¡¯ Ishak said, something of the old fatherly tone returning to him now that he had relaxed a bit. He reached an unsteady hand and stroked Ad¨¦lia¡¯s shoulder. She could feel his wariness. Ishak was still unsure how to relate to someone commanding him as Amarant yet evoking his doting affection like a daughter. ¡®You did what you could,¡¯ he repeated. ¡®And now you are needed again. Come back with me, my lady.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia looked at him with sympathy, and then darted a worried glance toward Mas¨¬lminur, who had begun to graze at the pasture around his tree. ¡®You need rest, Ishak. You¡¯ve been riding hard all night, and I¡¯m sure poor Mas¨¬lminur can¡¯t take much more, either.¡¯

    ¡®Ah, he¡¯s a Pleiada?an purebred, he could take anything,¡¯ Ishak began but hesitated when he confronted Ad¨¦lia¡¯s dissatisfied look. ¡®No, you¡¯re right. These old bones could do with a bed. No more than a few hours, my lady.¡¯

    ¡®Of course,¡¯ she said. She showed him inside and then stepped out toward her garden. That was a few more hours she had with her forest.

 Chapter Ten - Decrees Within the Dark

    Asphales was falling in a sea of fog and froth. He descended into a night with no moon or stars, featureless black enveloping him in dark embrace. As he sank into the void, he felt the pressure of an immovable wall of water, as if he was trapped under miles of ocean.

    And still the beast pursued him with vigorous desire. The unseen creature was a cyclone of movement, flitting forth in the shadows forcefully. It moved among the heavy mass of black invisible but indomitable. Asphales realised he was in its playpen, and he was the prey.

    Then he came to a sudden halt, suspended in midair. Weightless, upside-down perhaps, pulled in every direction, like a moon free of its orbit. The silence was in the black and the black was the silence.

    And the beast was in front of him. Staring.

    He could not see it, but he felt it, each breath a blast of winter seeping into his skin. He sensed its eyes, immensely deep and vile, locked on to him. Flames in a frozen visage.

    What are you trying to show me!? Asphales screamed, but nothing came out. Puffs in a powerful wind.

    The creature let out a sound, a laugh, a crash as if the earth split. And Asphales was falling again. He fell for a long while, but he could not measure distance or time. An object began materialising in the distance, a grey splash in the infinite dark. Asphales found himself before a many-sided gate, great chains hanging between its pillars. Ten latches adorned the mysterious apparition. Each link glowed diffusely, as if they were veins conducting light within. Words were engraved along the length of each chain, every respective contraption locked to a seal stamped with runes.

    Four seals were broken. Their light was extinguished, the metal cold and dead. A gentle thrumming ran through the active seals, a melody which permeated the blackness. But the other four were silent and still.

    Four seals¡­

    Asphales awoke sharply. He was in his bedchamber, tangled in sheets. Clammy with cold sweat, he threw them off and swung onto the bedside. He rubbed sleepy eyes. Golden morning light burned through his windows. Why could he still hear drumming, insolent rapping pounding against his ears? Then he realised someone was knocking at his door. He got up hastily, raced across his room, and opened the door. Ithil¨¬r stood, seemingly unperturbed by sleep and looking as ready as ever.

    ¡®It is time, master Asphales,¡¯ he said. Asphales could only stare blearily. The servant looked him over briefly and held out a bundle of clothing. ¡®You¡¯ll need these. I¡¯ll give you a moment. See me in the foyer.¡¯ He bowed, perhaps the most polite gesture he had extended so far, and retreated down the corridor. The door closed shut behind him.

    Asphales changed into the attire Ithil¨¬r had brought, a dark blue doublet edged with pearl-white buttons, and matching trousers. He inspected himself in the standing mirror. The outfit probably cost more than he could earn in an entire year. No longer was he the shabby sailor; in these clothes he appeared to fit in with the royal holdings of Fara¡¯ethar. And now it was time to go face whatever answers would rear up to the questions he¡¯d held in too long. On his way out, Asphales stepped into fine shoes of black leather, completing the look of the castle resident, and walked down to the foyer.

    Ithil¨¬r waited there with someone else, a tall man who looked comfortable in deep black vest and trousers. His dark hair was cropped short, only a few wild strands spiking out. He turned to face Asphales with cool topaz eyes which¡ªThat was Valinos.

    ¡®I could get used to this, Asphales,¡¯ he said, fingering down the line of golden buttons adorning his shirt.

    ¡®What¡ª¡¯ Asphales sputtered. ¡®What happened to you? It¡¯s all gone!¡¯

    ¡®Oh, this?¡¯ Valinos fanned a hand through his short hair and brought it down to his clean-shaven chin. ¡®I figured it¡¯s time for a new look. And with all the fighting we¡¯ll do, I thought it¡¯d be handy to keep something low maintenance.¡¯

    ¡®Fighting, master Valinos?¡¯ Ithil¨¬r asked. ¡®And just when I thought you¡¯d disowned the image of the brute.¡¯

    Asphales laughed delightedly. ¡®No longer a ruffian, indeed!¡¯

    ¡®Yes, far more presentable, I must say. Come along, it is time to meet the steward.¡¯ Ithil¨¬r walked on ahead out through the doors.

    ¡®Ithil¨¬r,¡¯ Asphales called after the servant. The man turned with an intrigued pout. ¡®Thank you,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®For everything.¡¯ Ithil¨¬r nodded and kept walking.

    Asphales neared his friend and patted his shoulder with a smile. ¡®Let¡¯s be off. Ah, but it will take me a while to get used to this.¡¯

    Valinos ignored the comment, his eyes on the doorway. When Ithil¨¬r was out of sight, he leaned closer to Asphales. ¡®I haven¡¯t forgotten why I¡¯m here,¡¯ he said in a low voice. ¡®You heard it yourself. By all rights, I was not even expected. Still, I intend to make the most of this place. A castle will have records, documents, something to help me discover what I need. And about Shurun¡¯el¡­ I will see it done.¡¯ He hissed the last sentence and left the building. Asphales stood immobile for a long time before he followed.

    The morning outside cast the grounds of Fara¡¯ethar in a different light. The halls and towers were no longer intimidating shadows, but proud bastions standing tall and bright. The path Ithil¨¬r led them through today took Asphales and Valinos along the other side of the Hall of the Elders. They passed by the Hall of Records, a grand rectangular block which emanated the silence and severity of a research hall, and the Hall of Recovery, a suitably solemn and serious medical building, almost featureless. The stark white stone of the structure contrasted with the grey of the castle.

    Asphales glimpsed another courtyard through open alleyways. The bailey was filled with smaller buildings, likely dedicated to storage. Granaries, stables, and liveries were tended by other servants and maids. Directions and measurements were shouted among them. Asphales turned to the servant ahead of him. Ithil¨¬r proved a far less animated guide than El¡¯enur. They were brought to their destination with his customary lack of communication.

    Upon arrival at the Hall of the Elders, several figures were already waiting by the steps. Nadros was there, fidgeting idly with his hands. Asphales¡¯ heart pained to see El¡¯enur again, the young man looking distracted, eyes toward an undefined distance. The bald Guldar was already sitting, chewing at something with an impatient frown on his grizzled face. A woman paced across the stairs intently, dressed in dark leather and sporting a sailor¡¯s hat hiding curls of luscious black. She walked restlessly with sharp features etched in a scowl. Asphales reasoned she must be Nadros¡¯ sub-commander.

    At the top of the stairs, a man of imposing stature waited motionless. More so than even Ledner, this one breathed authority. He held a large black blade effortlessly on his shoulder, resting on the collar of a fur coat. The pelt was held in place by chains spanning across his chest, a metallic insignia at each end. Asphales wondered what beast had died to give this man his clothing, and he had no doubt the wearer had done it himself.

    Ithil¨¬r cleared his throat, alerting the small crowd to his presence. ¡®Here we are, masters,¡¯ he said to Asphales and Valinos. ¡®The steward should be with you shortly.¡¯ With that, he turned and left.

    Asphales looked up at the expectant eyes which had fallen on them. If it had not been for Nadros¡¯ calming gaze, he would have felt like a morsel left for the lions.

    ¡®You two look spectacular,¡¯ the old captain said with a laugh. ¡®Quite dashing, I must confess.¡¯ He huffed, satisfied.

    ¡®So you are the ones,¡¯ the man with the blade said. In that moment, Asphales could not help but feel as if he had disappointed them, as though he was not fit for whatever they were awaiting. This man saw through the veneer, through the impressive exterior he had donned and could see that underneath, Asphales was simple and scared. He shrank under the warrior¡¯s chilling turquoise eyes.

    Guldar shot them a menacing gaze. ¡®Bearers of bad news, it seems. We¡¯ve had enough of that these days.¡¯ He chewed and spat the gristle between his teeth.

    ¡®Now, now,¡¯ Nadros placated them. ¡®They have been through a lot. Please, Guldar. And in any case, Amaleron should arrive soon.¡¯

    As if on cue, a door opened behind the gathering. Out stepped a paradox of a person, a man of great contrasts. Exceedingly old, the steward nevertheless seemed lively. He took gentle strides but stepped with firmness. Amaleron towered above the others and yet his frame seemed humble. The others stepped back before the frail man, their deference obvious in their posture.

    The steward had the appearance of a sage, his thick, white beard reaching below his chest, long locks of white hair atop a wrinkled, wise, and friendly face. Warm eyes of deep amber were set under bushy eyebrows like twin moons beneath ashen clouds. He looked around contemplatively.

    The final paradox concerned the man¡¯s apparel. Though ruling Anardes from the royal seat in Fara¡¯ethar, Amaleron wore a simple grey robe. No adornment, not even the land¡¯s iconic lion, was embroidered on the old man¡¯s cloak. The only indication of his reign was the crooked staff he carried in his left hand, a twisted wooden sceptre undistinguished except for the large gem which crowned it. A strange light glowed softly from the cut jewel.

    ¡®I see we are all here,¡¯ the steward said, his voice like kindling embers. ¡®My apologies for the delay. Please, let us all go inside.¡¯

    He motioned toward the doors and everyone present filed in unquestioningly. Asphales and Valinos followed suit.

    The gathering stepped into what seemed to be the hall¡¯s antechamber, a spacious, high-ceilinged room. Five colonnades on each side supported arches above, where light peered through shapely openings. Tiled marbled flooring patterned the ground in alternating designs of nondescript spirals or scenes of bravery captured in muted colours. At the back, more doors stood closed, probably leading into the main chamber of the Hall of the Elders.

    But Amaleron seemed content to host the meeting in this room, as simple chairs were brought out¡ªobviously temporary and not part of the fixtures of the antechamber. He sat first, and then the other took their place. Even the pacing woman settled into hers, while Guldar lounged into his seat like a tavern stool. Together, the gathering sat in a rough circle, the steward at the head.

    ¡®I believe some introductions are in order,¡¯ Amaleron said. ¡®No doubt you have many questions. No doubt you have experienced a lot coming here. I am sorry for the suddenness and the confusion the request must have caused you. But all things in their order. I am Amaleron, steward of Anardes, keeper of the Blood Throne.¡¯ The old man spoke clearly, even through the thickness of his beard. The warmness of his voice kept Asphales from rushing to questions.

    ¡®I have asked all the available heads of military to be present today, for I believe you also have valuable information to share. The quest, it seems, did not go as planned.¡¯

    El¡¯enur shifted in his seat. He was pointedly looking away from the procession.

    ¡®First, the Amarants,¡¯ the steward said. ¡®To my right is Darius Inidir¨­n, commander of the cavalry and the archery.¡¯

    Darius. The man of two manes. The Amarant did not stir at his introduction.

    ¡®To my left,¡¯ Amaleron continued, ¡®is Nadros N¨¬thonel, commander of the navy. I surmise you have already been acquainted.¡¯ The old sailor gave a curt smile.

    ¡®Now, our third Amarant is not here, unfortunately. She¡ª¡¯

    ¡®I believe we have already met her,¡¯ Asphales said, hesitant to interrupt.

    ¡®Oh? How did this come to pass?¡¯ The steward¡¯s eyebrows were raised curiously.

    ¡®In Gohenur, on our way here. I will hold the story until I am asked. But Ad¡ª¡¯ Asphales bit back the name. ¡®Lady Catena. She is the third Amarant, right?¡¯ He was unsure why the knight among the flowers used a different name at Fara¡¯ethar¡ªand even more confused as to why she divulged to him another still.

    ¡®Ah, so you have. Yes, she is. She commands the infantry.¡¯ There was a glint in Amaleron¡¯s eyes. ¡®Good. Very good.¡¯

    ¡®We¡¯re still waiting for her and Ishak to arrive,¡¯ Darius said. The man¡¯s eyes were narrowed, focused unnervingly on Asphales. He felt that those who saw this stare did not live long, if they were enemies.

    ¡®Amarant Darius refers to her second-in-command,¡¯ Amaleron explained. ¡®And speaking of, three of them are present here. To your right is Leara Arandel, subservient to Amarant Nadros.¡¯

    ¡®She takes care of all the administrative side of sailing,¡¯ Nadros said with a chuckle. ¡®What would I do without her?¡¯ The woman sniffed.

    ¡®Over to your left is Guldar Kene¡¯dorn, second-in-command to Darius, holding charge over the cavalry.¡¯ Guldar threw a nod of acknowledgment toward Asphales. ¡®And beside him is El¡¯enur Tharadin, in charge of the archers.¡¯

    ¡®We have also already met,¡¯ El¡¯enur said darkly.

    ¡®Now, Asphales Es¨¦linor, I am glad to see you have not come alone,¡¯ Amaleron said. Asphales wondered how he was known to the steward. Questions threatened to burst free once more. ¡®Who is your companion and how did he join?¡¯

    ¡®That,¡¯ Valinos said with a shrug, ¡®is a matter we must speak about later. I am curious, myself. But I am Valinos.¡¯

    ¡®Oh, is that so? Very well.¡¯ The steward didn¡¯t seem to take Valinos¡¯ forwardness as rude. ¡®Then we will move on. Please, tell us how you came to Fara¡¯ethar, and what came to be of Captain Ledner¡¯s company.¡¯

    With attention turned to him, Asphales felt small, like a pebble among pearls. But he began to speak. He relayed everything that had befallen him and the company, from Silnod¨¬r to the tragic ambush in Gohenur at the hands of Shurun¡¯el. He recounted Amarant Ad¨¦lia¡¯s rescue and the subsequent journey down the Valarion. Each face in the room listened wordlessly. Darius seemed to be fuming, but Asphales was unsure at what. There was a long period of quiet after he had concluded with the arrival at the docks.

    ¡®Starlight preserve us, I never knew things went so wrong,¡¯ Nadros said.

    ¡®No one was meant to know,¡¯ Guldar commented. ¡®The reason we sent a small Guard was to not draw attention in the first place! Curse it all, how were they found out?¡¯

    ¡®That is troubling indeed.¡¯ The steward¡¯s forehead was creased with frustration. ¡®I cannot help but take some responsibility for this, since I believed discretion was necessary. Better-trained soldiers may have fared more successfully¡­¡¯Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    ¡®I only have one question,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, who was suddenly attentive. His blue eyes were welling like an overflowing tide. ¡®Did my brother fight bravely?¡¯

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ Asphales said, looking the young man straight on. ¡®More than any man I¡¯ve known. And he cared for us, taught us how to fight back. If it were not for Ser¨¬n, I would not be alive. Your brother died as he lived, happy and singing.¡¯

    El¡¯enur turned away, sniffling. He brought a shaking fist up to his mouth, trying to restrain himself. When that proved futile, he rose from his seat promptly and walked out of the gathering. Asphales looked to the floor, tightening his eyes shut to halt any more tears.

    ¡®Leave him be,¡¯ Amaleron said. ¡®But you spoke truly, Asphales, more than you know. We owe a great debt to Ser¨¬n, Ledner, and the others. But we must go on to further matters.¡¯

    ¡®Hang on,¡¯ Leara said, finally speaking up. ¡®The supposed message from Gidius, from Fara¡¯ethar, troubles me. Do you have proof of it?¡¯

    ¡®No, we don¡¯t,¡¯ Valinos said. ¡®It was probably on Ledner and lost during the battle.¡¯

    ¡®Then how can we know for sure?¡¯ she asked.

    ¡®We have no reason to lie! Go dig him up if you want!¡¯ Valinos¡¯ voice echoed through the hall, settling into an unpleasant, hushing silence.

    ¡®Cease, please,¡¯ Amaleron said with a raised hand. ¡®That did not make sense to me, either. We can inquire with Hasel later and see if we can sort it out. For now, I must ask you, Asphales, to follow me. There is something of great importance I must show you. The reason you, and all of us, are here today.¡¯ The steward rose and stepped toward the back of the hall. ¡®I am sorry, I must ask for privacy. Please, remain here. Once this is done, you will all know, I assure you. Asphales, you come along.¡¯

    Asphales got up, hating to be the centre of attention once again, and followed Amaleron. The steward pushed on the door gingerly, stepped through, and beckoned for Asphales. He complied, entering through the narrow opening, and shut the door behind him.

    On the other side, the majestic open space of the main hall confronted Asphales. A chamber of proportions which defied imagination spread out before him. Asphales stood in a massive, thirteen-sided gallery. The walls led his eyes up several hundred feet to an apse high above, a dome-shaped recession in the ceiling which formed the peak of the column-like protrusions around the hall. Stained glass windows shone with effervescent colours in each space created by the pattern. Asphales lowered his eyes, feeling the bewildering heights of the chamber. Arched hallways on the sides led into alcoves and balconies, complete with ornamented balustrades.

    But the most peculiar aspect of the awe-inspiring architecture was the ring of statues around the circumference of the chamber. Thirteen shapes carved from marble stood beneath each pillar, their forms seeming to guard the hall. A decorative floor much like the one in the antechamber filled the space between. Asphales spotted the steward walking toward the end of the hall where a stone dais extended between three statues.

    And on it was the Blood Throne of Anardes. Empty, of course.

    The royal chair was the only raised structure, diverting all attention to itself. The place from which Ulm¨¬r once ruled. The very heart of Anardes.

    ¡®So this is where it all happened,¡¯ Asphales said to himself, walking reverently toward the centre. Each step sent echoes rippling with the weight of time. He felt as if he passed through the pages of his book. As he got closer, he spotted an object resting on the throne. Small and golden-red, the circlet was laced with gems which seemed to hold the blue light of stars themselves. The Blood Crown. The symbol of the king¡¯s rule. Had it sat here unworn for eons? Asphales felt overcome with determination. It was time to find out.

    ¡®Anardes anardethameren,¡¯ he spoke, reciting a well-known line, ¡®anda mitharanah nui em¨¦redeth dro fr¨¬r.¡¯

    Amaleron turned to him with a look of horror on his face. ¡®How do you know those words?¡¯ he asked.

    Asphales suddenly felt foolish, as if he had done something entirely forbidden. ¡®They¡­ they¡¯re written in a book I own. It tells the story of King Ulm¨¬r and the arrival of the Nodir¨¬m.¡¯

    ¡®So then you know about the folly and fate of the Dragonking.¡¯

    ¡®I do. So it¡¯s true?¡¯

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ Amaleron answered. ¡®But I know of no such book which includes Ulm¨¬r¡¯s ascension speech. How did you come by it? You must show me.¡¯

    ¡®I have it with me. In my room, I mean. But I do not know the author, though the book has been a great source of encouragement to me. Actually, that was one of the things I hoped to find an answer for here. I¡¯m sorry I can¡¯t help you.¡¯

    ¡®I see. If such a book does exist, it would be very useful.¡¯

    ¡®So the things it mentions¡­ They really happened? Ulm¨¬r descended into madness and¡­ Was he truly sealed by a song?¡¯

    Amaleron closed his eyes. He focused for a long moment. Then he began to sing.

    A king to whom all splendored nations turn

    The hostile flame of fate and vice would burn

    His dream of purged decay and peoples bowed

    With darkened force his vanity endowed

    Against his stride could stand no flesh and bone

    This ruler¡¯s visage, shut in blackened glade

    ¡®til rises one who claims the glistening blade

    Both starry crown and blood to them belong

    Their destined strength unveiled by Elders¡¯ song

    By turmoil, toil, and trial ascend the throne

    The song carried through the hall with melodic power such as Asphales had never heard before. The music struck and left stranded echoes of the past in its wake. Asphales felt it resonate within the walls, each high and low tone shaped by the story behind the words. The steward had sung like an¡­

    ¡®I am Antares of the Ten. Yes, the Dragonking was sealed by the song of Nodir¨¬m.¡¯

    Asphales¡¯ head spun. He bowed beneath the steward¡¯s strength of will. And if this was only a fraction of their power, having diminished after the Dragonking¡¯s sealing¡­ Still, to be face to face with a living Elder. ¡®So everything¡­ everything I went through, it was not for nothing. I was right to trust in these stories.¡¯

    ¡®I cannot image what has pained you all these years, Asphales. But you must be strong.¡¯

    ¡®What happened between then and now?¡¯ Asphales asked weakly, still reeling from the realisation of whom he was speaking to. ¡®Are there other Elders here too?¡¯

    ¡®The tale of the nation¡¯s fall and division in the days of dimming starlight is a tragic one. And that of what is happening with the Nodir¨¬m now even more so. We will have time for those stories later. Do you not want to know what brought you forth from Silnod¨¬r?¡¯ Amaleron stepped aside, revealing a wrapped bundle resting on the dais, to the side of the throne. ¡®That is what arrived for you. That is what brought you here. Please, open it and understand.¡¯

    Asphales stumbled to the raised step beneath the throne, nearly collapsing into the object cloaked in a white sheet. With shaking hands, he unfolded the linen wrapping until he could see inside.

    It was a sword.

    A white blade engraved with strange runes.

    It gave off an aurous glow.

    ¡®That weapon was sent here,¡¯ the steward said, ¡®along with your name and your location. I dispatched for you immediately. Since you know the tale, I¡¯m sure you comprehend the meaning of this artifact.¡¯

    Asphales stared at the sword blankly. It was like a relic, a piece of legend, had fallen through the mists of fantasy and landed into the living realm. And it was his own; his place in the story came together.

    ¡®That sword belonged to your father. You knew him once as Hiraeth Es¨¦linor. But he was Hadar of the Ten.¡¯

    Hiraeth. Hadar. Father. So his memory had been there all along. Floodgates opened in Asphales¡¯ mind, a sweeping tide that brought back pictures and pieces of his family. Now long departed, Asphales desired their embrace. Be brave, my little hero.

    ¡®I wept when the sword arrived,¡¯ Amaleron said. ¡®I wept for my friend, because I knew what it meant. But I also wept because hope had been found. That sword is rightly passed to you now.¡¯

    ¡®So my father¡­¡¯ Asphales voiced, but didn¡¯t finish.

    ¡®He was killed for what he was, Asphales. There are terrible things happening now, dark forces which would clutch at that hope and snuff it.¡¯

    ¡®My father did not abandon me,¡¯ Asphales said, composure weakening. ¡®He did not leave me.¡¯ He hugged the sword and broke down with heavy sobs.

    Where do you go, Father?

    ¡®No, he would never. I suspect Hadar died protecting you. Both he and your mother knew you were far too precious and so they did all they could to keep this from you. For your own safety, until you could understand and the danger had passed. I do not know what circumstances drove them to such lengths. They knew this hope must be protected at all costs.¡¯

    ¡®You keep mentioning hope,¡¯ Asphales said, wiping his eyes. ¡®What do you mean? What do the runes say?¡¯ he asked, suddenly curious.

    ¡®One side of the blade has always been written, long before Anardes existed. But the other side was new to me. It seems that a new song is being composed. An Ode of the Nodir¨¬m which complements the song of sealing. There are but fragments for now, but it speaks of hope and restoration. Your father engraved his part onto the blade before he passed.¡¯

    An ancient king clad in the pow¡¯r of death

    Will rise and seek the world to bend

    When breaking seal with might and forceful breath

    The elder youth his reign will end

    Ascending grim from dark and hollow depth

    With fury filled his force will send

    Against an army laid with matchless breadth

    The seed of Nodir¨¬m shall fend

    Amaleron had sung again. This song was different to the previous one. Asphales felt a surge, a change, a stirring within him. Then it was as if he saw him there, his father, pouring out his all into a song for his son. Soon, the image passed but the vigour the melody brought remained, straining weakness out of his body.

    And for one blinding moment, the sword in Asphales¡¯ hands gleamed to life, burning and bursting. An exploding star in the dimness of the night. Then it was gone, and the blade returned to its natural shine, a simmering gold. There was a lingering strength and vigour, as if his veins pulsed with life anew.

    ¡®What happened to me? I felt something just then.¡¯

    ¡®Yes. The quickening of your lifeforce. It seems this song stirs the lifeforce of an Elderchild, one born of a union between man and Nod¨¬r.¡¯

    ¡®So my mother was¡­ mortal?¡¯

    ¡®Yes, I suspect so. I am sure Hadar truly loved her, also. His portion of the song came later, long after he fell for her. It appears that it is only as one of the Ten approaches death that such a song is inspired in them. At least, that is how it has happened four times so far. We have already lost four of the Ten.¡¯

    Four broken seals.

    ¡®And what happens if they all die? What are we up against?¡¯

    Amaleron gave Asphales a grave look. ¡®You have read the account, have you not? You realise, then, the danger of the returning Dragonking.¡¯

    ¡®Ulm¨¬r will be unsealed?¡¯

    ¡®Not only Ulm¨¬r, but the foul beast that gave him power in the first place.¡¯

    ¡®Anarah, right?¡¯ Asphales recalled the beast¡¯s resounding voice in his nightmares, a storm of ice and wind.

    ¡®Where have you heard that name? Did this volume mention it as well?¡¯

    ¡®No, I have heard it in¡­ dreams. Or they may be visions, I¡¯m not sure. And I have seen it too. Or felt it, rather.¡¯ He clutched at his arm as if suddenly cold.

    ¡®Yes. The beast may be sealed but its consciousness is still active. Even in its dormant state, it wanders and manifests in the dreams of those most closely connected to the starlight. Like you.¡¯

    ¡®What is it? Where did it come from?¡¯

    Amaleron was silent for a while, as if reminiscing. Then he spoke, his voice ethereal. Asphales closed his eyes to listen.

    ¡®Of old, there was Regulus and Carinae. They were light, life, and power itself. Stars beyond stars. They longed to create and craved to love. So the two began a great work. In skies beyond our own they painted worlds and played songs which sprang to life through their energy. They moulded mountains and shaped seas. The flattened fields and raised up ridges. They spread the foundations of a world and scattered the luminaries above for guidance and light.

    ¡®But there was Sirius the Black Star also. A force opposed. A vile and vicious opponent. Sirius grew jealous of the love between Regulus and Carinae. He burned with envy at the creative energy birthed from their company. He wished nothing but the undoing of their labour, the unravelling of their song. Long he brooded in the dark, long he watched starlight bring beautiful things into being in the world that was slowly taking shape. And his hatred grew.

    ¡®Sirius took action when the Lovers crowned their work with one final addition to the world. Men. The first men woke beside gleaming oceans under starlit skies. Regulus decreed that men should share in a portion of starlight, and Carinae imparted her own love to men in their conception. But Sirius was sickened with rage at humanity¡¯s partaking of their heavenly light. And so he attacked the two in a battle too terrible for words. The War of Forming.

    ¡®The Starfall it is called, for Sirius was cast from his position and thrown down. However, the bitterness and venom which Sirius harboured grew so great that it began affecting starlight itself. Regulus and Carinae could not annihilate him without unmaking all fabric and fibre of the sky, something beyond even their power in any case. Rather than risk the undoing of all creation, they had Sirius confined to the only place he could go: our world.

    ¡®With sorrow did they watch Sirius engulf the world in black flame. The yet unmade works of Regulus and Carinae were tainted and spoiled. The world was birthed in blood and black. A great veil was cast over the world, an impenetrable barrier which Sirius could not pierce. Men were enabled to pass through the veil upon their death. So there was some respite in the ravage. But such a force had to be maintained both from within and without. And so in their effort, Regulus and Carinae were doomed to spend eternity apart. Their love and light were rent from one another. ¡®All the light between us shall not separate,¡¯ Carinae said. ¡®Rather, it shall be our bond.¡¯ Regulus and Carinae could no longer intervene or halt Sirius¡¯ madness, but they had caged it, sealed it in hope.

    ¡®Their hope was that those born of starlight would defeat him once and for all. For a thousand days the fire raged on in the world. And all history is but the dying of those embers. Sirius wreaked havoc in the mortal world, enraged at his trappings, but he could not ensnare all. Some, true, bent beneath his will and became corrupt. But starlight prevailed in the hearts of men and another war was waged. In this battle, those who would become the Ten took part. I fought alongside Hadar in the Thousand-Day War. It was in this battle that Hadar forged his blade and inscribed the runes which tell of the downfall of Sirius and his offspring. Whether it was simply predicted, or whether the forging of the words shaped the rest of unfolding history, I do not know, for Hadar possessed a power greater than any before him.

    ¡®So together we fought, striking at the darkness with the light. We were victorious, but only partially. Sirius assumed a new form, his outer shape destroyed in the ensuing battle. He became a burning shadow and retreated, reduced to wandering the depths.

    ¡®Anarah the beast was called. Anarah the Shadow was named.

    ¡®For their efforts in the war, the Ten were granted ascendancy, a place among the stars. I cannot recall the process, and memory did not survive the transition, much like one cannot remember the liminal moment between the last thoughts of wakefulness and the first glimpse of dream. But the Ten Ascendants, the Nodir¨¬m, crossed the starlit veil, far beyond any mortal step. And they would awake once more and return, as you know, when another stirred the Shadow¡­¡¯

    Asphales opened his eyes, the first objects to come into focus being the three statues behind the throne. Realisation dawned on him. Regulus to the left, Carinae on the right, and Ulm¨¬r in the centre. The king who proved to be an offspring of Sirius.

    ¡®Now do you see, Asphales?¡¯ Amaleron queried. ¡®That is what is at stake in this. Anarah is on the verge of awakening. The Dragonking is on the cusp of return. The Elderchildren are needed.¡¯

    ¡®Children?¡¯ Asphales asked. ¡®There are more?¡¯

    ¡®Yes. You will understand very soon.¡¯

    ¡®But what I don¡¯t get is; who is mad enough to want something like this? Who is slaying the Elders? Do they understand what that will do?¡¯

    ¡®I am afraid they do. We do not understand their motivations entirely. We cannot track their movements completely. But the efforts of our Amarants and warriors have surfaced hints at what the enemy is planning. And this is, you see, where you fit in. We must be ready for it. The new song is needed to prepare the Elderchildren for the coming of the Shadow.¡¯

    ¡®Wait,¡¯ Asphales said in shock. ¡®Are you saying we¡¯re expecting Anarah to come back? That we can¡¯t stop it?¡¯

    ¡®Stopping it is not something we can do. We could delay it, perhaps, but it would do no good. It waits with the patience of the mountains. Ulm¨¬r¡¯s spirit and the dragon would wait until the stars themselves crumble and fall from the sky. Time itself could wrinkle with old age and still it would wait and reawaken. No, it must be faced for the final time. It must be ended.¡¯

    ¡®So I¡­ We¡­ need to be ready.¡¯

    Amaleron nodded slowly. ¡®We need every fragment of the Ode for that. The song of sealing itself says that the strength of the Children will be unveiled by it. We must achieve that.¡¯

    ¡®I see. I think I understand. I¡¯m sorry, this is a lot to take in.¡¯

    ¡®Yes. Let us return to the gathering. With you aware of these things now, we can better plan for what is ahead. Of course, it is understandable if you need time to rest and recuperate, time to dwell on these things.¡¯

    ¡®Yeah, there are so many questions I still have.¡¯ Asphales wished to gush every query he had, but he knew it would not be helpful at this point. But one thought would not go away. One thing he could not be rid of. ¡®Amaleron, why has my father¡¯s sword only arrived now? He died about twelve years ago, yet only now it shows up. Who kept it? Do you know who it was that brought it?¡¯

    ¡®I am sorry, my boy, but there are some mysteries left, even to me. The sword only arrived two tides ago now, but I did not see who delivered it. Still, I believe what you have to think about will suffice. There is enough to ready yourself for.¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯re right.¡¯ Asphales raised his father¡¯s blade and slung it on his shoulder.

    He and Amaleron prepared to leave the main hall. Asphales felt the overwhelming nature of his identity, his task. He had come to the castle with questions, but the answers had already been too large to comprehend. No, he could not drop the sword now. This he knew. Not with such a burden placed on him. And yet, with the memories of his father behind him, pushing him onward, Asphales resolved to go on. He would do this.

    As he neared the doorway into the antechamber, a commotion echoed through the walls. Both he and Amaleron hurried on, looking for the source of the noise. They could hear grunting, as if a scuffle was taking place.

    Asphales burst through the door first, only to see Amarant Darius poised over Valinos on the ground. Valinos struggled under the Amarant¡¯s threatening grip. His face was close, whispering angry words which Asphales could not make out. The others looked on horrified, but seemed too intimidated to hold Darius back.

    No, Valinos, what have you done?

    A moment later, Amaleron laid eyes on the two fighting men. ¡®Amarant Darius,¡¯ he bellowed, voice like a roaring flame, eyes like lit braziers, ¡®what in the name of Regulus are you doing?!¡¯

    Darius turned to the steward, his face contorted in rage. He unhanded Valinos, his form thudding to the floor. Valinos scrambled away and stormed out of the Hall of the Elders.

 Chapter Eleven - Stills Within the Storm

    The smell of the forge choked the air around Valinos. Fizzling steam and smoke seared the chamber. He had learned to love the heat of the armoury, but today, the fire only served to heighten the rage of the one who towered over him. The man was silhouetted by the steam of a blade he had not finished tempering. Valinos cowered, hand held to his cheek where a fresh wound blazed.

    It was the first time Paran had struck anything other than iron.

    ¡®Never ask me about that again, Val. Ever.¡¯ The armourer¡¯s voice punctuated like a hammered anvil.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ Valinos whimpered through the stinging pain. ¡®It¡¯s just¡­ some of the kids have been saying that Asphales¡¯ parents disappeared because they¡¯re like mine and I can¡¯t help wondering why¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Stop!¡¯ Paran roared, stepping closer. ¡®I will not have you remind me of those things! You know full well what sort of people they were. They left you.¡¯

    Valinos cut off the question that had burned hotter than the forges in the workshop.

    The armourer leaned forward. His face was close, his voice low and focused. ¡®For thirteen years I have raised you. I took you in when no one else would. I endured the shame and dishonour you brought me, because I wanted a son. And this is how you repay me? You don¡¯t have a place out there! You stay here with me. With your father.¡¯

    Valinos could only stare with frightened eyes. Paran held his gaze for a long while, and then finally backed off. He roamed around the workshop, raving. ¡®Ah, Liliah, what have I done all these years without you?¡¯ The armourer knocked several items over, helms and breastplates being readied for deployment to Fara¡¯ethar. ¡®I¡¯m sorry, my son,¡¯ Paran said resignedly, facing away from him. ¡®Get back to work.¡¯

    In that moment, cold realisation crept on Valinos.

    They all hate me. This entire blasted town and everyone in it.

    Valinos ran out of the armoury, tears filling his eyes and anger welling in his heart.

    I have no place here¡­

    The memory faded like a flash of lightning, a different scene left in its blinding afterimage. The enclosing walls of the Hall¡¯s antechamber. The military heads of Fara¡¯ethar staring at him as if he were an intruding stain to be gawked at. Darius¡¯ menacing gaze locked on him, eyes flashing with a pent up rage. The reminder of a departed company captain hanging in the air.

    ¡®Were you not his commander?¡¯ Valinos braved the question. ¡®Where were you?¡¯ He tried his hardest not to shake. He could not remember how this conversation had started, but Valinos knew he needed to get this off his chest. ¡®Why did you let Ledner die?¡¯

    Darius stood up off his chair and stepped forward. ¡®Are you angry?¡¯ he asked. His tone seemed as disinterested as frigid winter.

    ¡®Where were you when the company needed their Amarant?¡¯ Valinos sputtered the words. He had become sick of this gathering. He was no longer the scared little boy, cowering before an oppressive father figure. He was no longer in a town which did not need him. And yet he felt as out of place and unheeded as ever. ¡®Don¡¯t you realise something is going on here, with the company, with Shurun¡¯el? Yes, I am angry.¡¯

    Darius simply shook his head.

    ¡®I know you are concerned with the events that transpired on your trip here,¡¯ Leara offered, ¡®but it is simply unbelievable that one of our own messenger eagles would be involved.¡¯

    ¡®But still we stand here and seemingly do nothing!¡¯ Valinos snapped.

    ¡®Valinos, please,¡¯ Nadros said pleadingly. ¡®We¡¯ve only just¡ª¡¯

    ¡®You are the one blind to what is happening, boy,¡¯ said Darius. ¡®This meeting is far bigger than you think. It¡¯s not just about a company, not just about two commoners from some backwater town. You have a right to be angry, but your anger is misplaced. Amaleron is concerned about the return of the Dragonking. Do you understand? The Elders¡¯ seal is weakening and¡ª¡¯

    ¡®The Elders?¡¯ Valinos spat. ¡®I¡¯ve had enough of those stories,¡¯ he groaned. ¡®What good is it worrying about the dangers of some fantasy when there is death right here? You¡¯re meant to protect the life around you, not bury your head in some far off dream.¡¯

    ¡®Tread carefully,¡¯ Darius said slowly, each word leaping like a spark. Tension seemed to coil in the room, ready to break. But Valinos could not back down.

    ¡®I don¡¯t want to believe Amaleron is a fool, but why the fixation on the Elders? Even if what the stories say is true, they abandoned Anardes! They left it to¡ª¡¯

    Valinos never finished his sentence. Darius sprung off his position and clutched Valinos by the collar of his doublet. In moments, Valinos was pinned to the ground. The Amarant was poised over him, his arms afire with strength. The man¡¯s painful grip dug into Valinos¡¯ shoulders.

    ¡®Darius, what are you doing?¡¯ Valinos heard someone yelp. But he was too fixated on the man over him. The Amarant glowered. But the eyes that held him down were cold. Colder than his own. They were eyes belonging to one who had seen more, done more, killed more¡­

    ¡®You know nothing of real rage, boy,¡¯ Darius forced through the struggle. ¡®You only know an anger that gently passes like a wind. You know nothing of fury which seeps into your bones like a winter cold. Of anger that becomes your lifeblood. Of fear which keeps you up at night and awakens you with sickness and dread.¡¯

    At some point in the Amarant¡¯s deluge of words, there was a crash as if a door opened somewhere.

    ¡®I pray you never do,¡¯ Darius finished with a whisper.

    ¡®Amarant Darius, what in the name of Regulus are you doing?!¡¯ a voice bellowed.

    Darius turned to face the voice. Amaleron and Asphales had returned from behind the doors to the main section of the Hall. The Amarant¡¯s grip loosened and he stood up. Valinos caught a glimpse of his friend. Even from afar, there was concern written on his face. And yet an intriguing detail captured Valinos¡¯ attention. A sword which Asphales now carried. That was not Anfr¨¬r¡­ Other faces looked on, terrified and confused. The moment passed.

    Never ask about that again, a distant voice drummed.

    Valinos fumed. Embarrassed, humiliated, and angry, he rose without another word and dashed through the entryway, out into the courtyard.

    The outside air did little to help Valinos¡¯ mood, if only providing more space for his sullenness to spread beyond the confines of the Hall¡¯s chamber. The grey hung around him like a mist, frustrating questions and frustrated thoughts jostling in his mind. What was he doing here? What was his purpose? He felt the aimlessness again, choking and straining him, like a miserable cloud that would not settle or go away. Driven onward to nowhere.

    But perhaps what stung most was the shattered armour of his pride. The events and sights of the last few days had demolished Valinos¡¯ preconceptions. The world was not as he thought. He had disdained fantasies and dismissed Asphales¡¯ daydreams. That had provided some identity. Valinos believed he had figured things out and seen a glimmer of a world in which he may find his place one day. But it seemed not. Perhaps he should have expected this.

    One more shift in the wind, one more sudden storm to overtake him. That¡¯s all this was.

    It grated at him, and his wounded pride ate away whatever comfort had built up on the journey to Fara¡¯ethar. So Valinos wandered, walking in no particular direction. He put steps between himself and the Hall of the Elders, and yet the thoughts were always on his heels. He quickened his pace, his steps falling on the pavement like drizzling rain. A gloomy patch in a clear day. Servants scuttled about the courtyard of the castle, each one busy and filled with purpose. Every last one taking action.

    An idea struck him.

    He approached one of the passing servants, a woman of middle age. ¡®Excuse me,¡¯ he chimed, his tone unassuming. ¡®Where can I find the messenger birds?¡¯ He hoped she understood his vagueness.

    ¡®Ah, new to Fara¡¯ethar, master?¡¯ she queried. ¡®You must mean Birdswatch. You¡¯ll find it in the north-eastern Tower. The overpass is just beyond the palace gardens. Ask for master Hasel.¡¯ As soon as she finished giving directions, the servant-woman returned to her duties, like a busy ant joining the droning of the nest.

    Valinos recalled passing by the gardens the previous night, when Ithil¨¬r had led them to the dormitories, so he quickly backtracked to the alleyway on the eastern side of the main hall. Sure enough, near the wall, past the hedges and flower bushes, an entrance stationed with several guards stood, almost concealed into the castle grey. Valinos hurried on toward the tower, half-expecting to be pursued by more than just his thoughts.

    None of the soldiers seemed to mind when he entered through the tower gate. He ascended several flights of stairs and an opening in the keep led out to the parapets. Several groups of soldiers were overseeing the castle grounds from vantage points around the castle wall. But Valinos¡¯ attention was drawn to a portion of the wall which jutted out from the rest of the enclosure like a branch offshoot. The overpass, as the servant lady called it, traversed over sheer cliff and led to a larger tower in the distance, some hundred feet away. Valinos stepped out on the parapet and walked toward the place where the Empire¡¯s messengers roosted. It seemed to have a large open platform in its upper storey, but beyond that and the hay-covered roof, it was of the same cast as the other towers.

    As Valinos paced the wall walk, he peered over the embrasure and glimpsed the castle¡¯s foundations perched on the cliff. Far below, bedrock climbed out of the raging sea and held the structure in place. While Valinos had never had a fear of heights, the sight of the sea in turmoil was not particularly pleasant. Looking into the distance he saw vast fields and far valleys, tipped by the distant Undorn Mountains like teeth in the earth¡¯s jaws. Perhaps it was just a trick of the morning light, but patches in the fields looked¡­ black. Exposed stones and long stretches of grass were haphazardly tainted by splotches of black, like ink stains.

    He turned from the peculiar sight, distracted by the whistling wind. Valinos closed his eyes and inhaled, for a moment synching his breath with that belonging to the sky. He sunk into the silent song. The breeze felt different now. It played with his shorter hair, and it carried new scents in this part of the world. When Valinos opened his eyes, the Sundered came into view. Distant rocks and ridges, suspended specks against the splash of blue. He felt an ineffable longing, but he pushed it away. It was better to focus on something attainable. Valinos would have liked to dare and dream, but nothing in his life had proven it was worth it.

    Slowly, other sounds and colours bled back into focus. Chattering guards, footsteps, roiling waves, the ceaseless grey and enveloping green. Valinos came to and redoubled his pace to Birdswatch. He pushed past more groups of armed men and entered the keep itself. It was time to find answers. Time to take action and discover exactly how that fateful morning had come about.

    It was quieter inside. The walls dampened the ocean¡¯s roar to a muted mumble. The wind¡¯s tune was not allowed in here, either, it seemed. The first chamber consisted of a simple desk, strewn with various ledgers, and a number of undistinguished chairs thrown almost at random. There was no sign of a keeper. Perhaps Hasel was upstairs on the viewing platform, if he was on duty at all, Valinos thought.

    He waited a moment, but nothing stirred. No one arrived. When his impatience became louder than the consuming silence, Valinos went up the stairs. The wooden steps complained under his weight, but he pressed on, spiralling around higher up the tower. Eventually the platform he had seen from below opened up.

    And the sight took his breath away.

    Rows of cages lined the open space of the platform. Dozens of birds flitted about in their holdings or ate from feeding troughs. Aside from storage boxes which rested against a makeshift wall comprised of wooden boards, nothing else obscured the birdcages. Hawks and pigeons of all sizes and colours were kept inside. Valinos admired every detail of the flying creatures, from the talons which gripped metal railings, beaks which broke through seed and corn shells, to their plumage, coating them with lustrous pride.

    He could not think of another way to describe what he saw. Birdswatch had the smell of the sky about it. The welcomeness of the open air.

    As he walked on, Valinos noticed three spots toward the end of the ramp. They looked like cradles, but were clearly designed to host avian guests. Three pallets of like construction teetered close to the edge of the platform, overlooking the land beyond. Probably to allow the messenger birds easy take off.

    One, however, was far larger than the others. It was occupied.

    A grand, golden-brown eagle of unnatural size roosted contently. Piercing golden eyes. Bone-white crown around its head.

    Gidius.

    Valinos took a step forward, but was halted by a sound from the creature. A shriek sounded forth, a cry that cut through the day like a deafening horn of war. Valinos felt it. He froze. This was a sound of the sky in all its wild terror.

    ¡®Don¡¯t be so impatient, Gidius!¡¯ a voice called out. It was like the day which hugged the welkin heights, tinged with life and sunlight. ¡®Your food is coming!¡¯

    Valinos spun, alarmed that someone else was here. The voice had not sounded like it belonged to the old man who ran this place. It was energetic, youthful, and feminine. He was unsure what to do, suddenly feeling as if he had trespassed.

    Footsteps approached. Then there was a yelp and a loud crash from behind the board wall. Several birds in nearby cages fluttered nervously, startled by the sound. Groans and mumbles floated from behind the contraption. Valinos spotted birdseed spilled out and raw fish flopped on the ground.

    ¡®Are you alright?¡¯ he called uncertainly to whoever had collapsed. This keeper of birds seemed very clumsy.

    ¡®Oh, I didn¡¯t know you were back,¡¯ the voice answered. ¡®Yeah, I¡¯m fine. Nothing broken, nothing sprained. It¡¯s still a good day!¡¯

    Valinos did not have time to ponder those words for long, confused as they were, before the figure stepped out. And whoever it was that Valinos expected to see, it was not her.

    A young woman emerged with a maladroit step, dodging the food which had amassed on the floor. Dressed in sky blue and pale yellow, her simple pleated skirt and modest top befitted a servant of the air¡¯s messengers.

    ¡®This is going to be a nightmare to clean up,¡¯ the girl said, agitated. She threw her hands up in exasperation and circled the mess. She finally turned to Valinos. ¡®I¡¯m so sorry¡ªoh, you¡¯re not¡­¡¯ she said, stunned like a placid deer before a hunter.

    Valinos was staring into wide eyes which sheened like garnets of dazzling brown. Dark blonde hair, knitted into long braids, swept around her face as she turned. She was at least a head shorter than Valinos, so she looked up at him. Frozen. Innocent. After a long moment, she instinctively tucked a plait behind her ear and glanced away.

    They both tried to speak at once.

    All that came out was a jumble of words, the mingling of timid voices.

    They both shied away in silence.

    ¡®I apologise,¡¯ the girl said, tearing through the near awkwardness. ¡®How terribly rude of me to glare. Please, forgive the mess.¡¯ She looked around apologetically. Then she turned back to him and beamed a smile. ¡®Welcome to Birdswatch.¡¯

    With those words, with that smile, the woman emanated bouncy playfulness and carefreeness, and yet a genuine affection and devotion to her tasks. Valinos forgot the things that had been eating away at him. His rage melted like snow before the steady march of the sun. Frustration evaporated like mist at morn¡¯s dawn.

    ¡®And you are?¡¯ she asked. Valinos almost missed the question.

    ¡®Ah, Valinos of Silnod¨¬r,¡¯ he said. The words nearly caught in his throat. ¡®I¡¯ve just recently arrived here in Fara¡¯ethar.¡¯

    ¡®Silnod¨¬r!¡¯ she exclaimed. ¡®You¡¯ve come a long way. And I believe we¡¯ve sent messengers there not long ago. What is it like? I¡¯ve always wanted to visit the Silent Sea.¡¯

    ¡®Oh, well¡­¡¯ Valinos began.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry!¡¯ she burst once more. ¡®Pardon my impropriety. My name is Fen¡¯asel.¡¯ She curtsied politely. ¡®Keeper of Birdswatch. Well, sort of. I work with my father Hasel. He runs the place.¡¯

    ¡®M-my pleasure,¡¯ Valinos stammered, uncertain how to respond to the girl¡¯s liveliness. ¡®I was actually looking for him. I have business here. With your father, I mean.¡¯

    ¡®Is that so?¡¯ Fen¡¯asel queried. ¡®He¡¯s not here right now, I¡¯m afraid. Have you signed the ledger at the entrance? When he comes back, he¡¯ll know someone is looking for him.¡¯

    ¡®No, I haven¡¯t,¡¯ Valinos admitted.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Fen¡¯asel put up her finger, as if delivering an oft-repeated lecture. ¡®All visitors to Birdswatch must write their name in the registry, Valinos.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯d rather not have it be known that I was here.¡¯

    ¡®My father would not be pleased if we broke protocol,¡¯ she insisted.  ¡®Come along now.¡¯

    Before Valinos could object, Fen¡¯asel took hold of his hand and made for the steps. Not wishing to offend her, he did not resist. The two rushed down to the entrance room, each wooden step they passed over creaking and complaining louder than before. Fen¡¯asel took him to the desk he had spotted earlier. Papers and pens lay strewn across the craggy surface.

    ¡®Sign there, please,¡¯ she said, pointing to a columned sheet of paper and handing him a quill.

    Valinos strode up to the desk and wrote his name into the ledger. As he dropped the quill, his attention fixed on something. ¡®Are these all the previously sent messengers from Birdswatch?¡¯ he asked.

    ¡®Yes. We keep a record of every message sent out.¡¯

    Valinos scanned the ledger eagerly. The list displayed all the messenger birds sent to various places and a summary of their contents, most recently to a place named Taeladran. Higher up the sheet, Silnod¨¬r featured several times, showing periodic orders of military equipment. One entry, however, stood out.

    Eighth day of Lonoris. Silnod¨¬r. Gidius.

    Suspiciously, the section outlining the contents was blank.

    Valinos eyed the entry. Consumed. Confused. There was no doubt, however, that this was the notice which had brought him from Silnod¨¬r. These six words had changed his life. But why had Amaleron expressed no knowledge of it being delivered?

    ¡®Valinos?¡¯ Fen¡¯asel asked, leaning closer.

    He snapped to, quickly averted his gaze, and shuffled the papers as if to hide what he had been looking at.

    Fen¡¯asel chuckled. ¡®You seem very interested. Would you like a tour of the Nest?¡¯ Valinos turned and met a smiling Fen¡¯asel. She was offering her hand once again. He took it.

    In moments, they were back up on the platform, walking amongst the birdcages. In the meantime, two other eagles had arrived and now nested in their respective pallets, on either side of Gidius. They were much smaller, and did not have the curious marrow which circled the crown of the larger eagle¡¯s head. Valinos looked at them for a moment, and then shifted his attention back to Fen¡¯asel, who was explaining the messaging system.

    ¡®We use royal pigeons, crows, or hawks for common correspondence,¡¯ she was saying as they passed rows of birds in their cages. ¡®They work well for shorter distances and messages which don¡¯t require urgency. They can also be used by anyone. You don¡¯t need authorisation to use the basic messenger. You can send letters, notes, and even small gifts¡­ as long as you sign in.¡¯ Fen¡¯asel gave him a significant look with those last words.

    Valinos nodded. ¡®And the eagles?¡¯

    ¡®Well, for longer distances and more arduous journeys we use one of our three eagles. They¡¯re more trustworthy with important messages and are invaluable in times of war. Since there are so few, use of the eagles is limited to the Amarants and their sub-commanders. And Amaleron and my father Hasel, of course.¡¯

    ¡®So that¡¯s who they answer to?¡¯

    Fen¡¯asel nodded with a smile. ¡®Not to me, unfortunately.¡¯

    Valinos acknowledged her words. So the list of people who could have sent that message narrowed to fewer than ten persons. Since almost everyone present at the morning¡¯s council had denied awareness of the message, that left an even smaller pool.

    Fen¡¯asel moved closer to the eagles, which were contentedly grooming their feathers. ¡®That¡¯s Nag¨¬n,¡¯ she said, pointing to a reddy-brown one. ¡®And Kanthas,¡¯ she explained, gesturing to a grey eagle across the platform.

    ¡®And Gidius?¡¯

    ¡®He¡¯s our most reliable and speedy messenger. But he¡¯s also untameable. He often goes away, sometimes for days at a time. I guess that¡¯s to be expected of a Great-eagle. Their kind were ferocious and wild. But he always comes back.¡¯

    ¡®Are they not around anymore?¡¯ Valinos asked.

    ¡®None except Gidius have been spotted in a long time. Gidius himself was employed, oh about eleven or twelve years ago. We don¡¯t know whether they¡¯ve migrated or¡­ Anyway, Gidius is my favourite. Isn¡¯t he wonderful?¡¯

    ¡®He¡¯s certainly something,¡¯ Valinos said with a sigh. ¡®I¡¯ve already had a run-in with him.¡¯

    ¡®Ah, how do you know Gidius?¡¯ she asked curiously.

    ¡®Well, you see, I¡¯m the one he came for when I was in Silnod¨¬r.¡¯

    Fen¡¯asel tilted her head, intrigued. ¡®And what were you brought here for?¡¯

    Valinos was quiet for a moment. ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ he admitted. ¡®That¡¯s why¡­ that¡¯s why I was looking through the ledgers earlier. I was hoping to find some answers. Though, I¡¯m glad I¡¯m out of Silnod¨¬r¡­ I just wish I knew what for.¡¯

    ¡®Oh, didn¡¯t you like it there? I¡¯ve heard the fishing is nice.¡¯

    ¡®I never felt like I belonged in that town,¡¯ he said, looking away from her. ¡®I just¡­ I want to know where I¡¯m meant to be.¡¯

    Perhaps something resonated with Fen¡¯asel, for when Valinos braved a glance at her, a thin veil of recognition passed by her face. Something other than her easy-going smile.

    ¡®It¡¯s not always easy,¡¯ she said. ¡®I know. Twenty years among birds and I still can¡¯t fly. Yet, this is where I¡¯m meant to be. It¡¯s the only place.¡¯ Her jovial mien resurfaced. ¡®No need to be ashamed of not belonging. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find a place here, Valinos.¡¯ She smiled. That sun-streaked grin again.

    Valinos and Fen¡¯asel locked eyes once more. Their gaze lingered. Gidius cawed again. So she tucked a braid behind her ears and turned away. ¡®Oh, I should feed the birds,¡¯ she said. ¡®Otherwise they won¡¯t be sending anything anywhere.¡¯

    ¡®Of course,¡¯ Valinos said. In the moment, they had forgotten to clean the foodstuffs and feed the messengers. He moved to the edge of the platform, out of the way of the eagles, and watched as Fen¡¯asel disappeared to distribute food. His eyes followed her.

    She moved between the cages with exuberant grace, the way a gentle wind caresses a forest. Birds came near to her when she brought out food, gingerly taking morsels from her hands. They seemed to delight in her care. Spellbound, Valinos could only watch. She seemed so different to the blundering woman who had tripped up earlier.

    Light spilled between the columns of the platform. It enveloped the tower, the eagles, and the girl. It was a good day.

    Valinos smiled. His mind was a clear sky. It was a true and happy smile, like the warmth of the midday sun.

    * * *

    El¡¯enur Tharadin nocked an arrow. He drew the bowstring back, concentrating on his mark, some hundreds of yards away. He felt the tension in the string, screaming for release. The sturdy wooden yew frame quivered beneath his fingers, demanding relief. The archer lined up the shot and held his breath.

    There was a moment of stillness.

    Then the storm of the launch.

    El¡¯enur relished the silent moment before an arrow hit its target, the pause between the flash of lightning and the thunderclap. The arrow flew, sure and straight. It lodged itself in the wooden board beside a distant window. Sunlight glinted off a small object attached to the shaft. It let him know the delivery had not failed. El¡¯enur nodded, satisfied, and turned to hop off the roof of the Hall of Records. The tempest had passed.

    El, it seems you¡¯re growing up. Faint laughter.

    El¡¯enur joined the throng and traffic of the castle courtyard, hoping to drown the voices in his head. They did not stop.

    You¡¯ve gone and done it on me, little brother. Muffled music.

    The archer kept his eyes on the cobblestone as he passed through a faceless crowd. His warrior¡¯s finery distinguished him as a maneling, more than that, as a second-in-command of a thousand elites. The deadly bow strapped to his back, a gift from Darius when he had reached his position, qualified him and was indicative of his rank. But today he wished he could simply fade away into the obscurity of the ordinary. For all the power and prestige that were his could not alleviate the loss.

    There¡¯ll come a time when I won¡¯t always be able to look out for you. Nothing.

    Emptiness.

    El¡¯enur turned aside into an empty alleyway and struck the wall with a fist. ¡®You bloody fool,¡¯ he whispered through clenched teeth, to no one in particular. No one that could be here, at least. He sighed and collected himself. But like a broken pot, the shards never quite stick together again, hard as one may try to recreate the former shape.

    The archer knew he needed to get away from all this. He had to distract himself from the memories and moments vying for his attention. How strange the last few days had been. A fruitless trip to a frozen land. The mysterious arrival of two men who were, for some reason, important to the steward. The activity of a group claiming the esteem of the past. Then there was the strangeness which had overcome Darius recently. What had awoken inside the man? Why could the Amarant not trust his own sub-commander with whatever was bothering him?

    And of course, there was the blow which had shattered it all. With his parents off travelling, El¡¯enur had lost the only family close to him. Ser¨¬n was his anchor, much as it grated El¡¯enur to admit it. He kept him humble and grounded. That irritable, infuriating, insufferable bard¡­ He was a true older brother. Ser¨¬n had done so much for him. When young El¡¯enur¡¯s ambitions led him to desire the mantle, it was Ser¨¬n who gave up the trouper¡¯s life so the younger brother¡¯s dreams could come true. It was Ser¨¬n who joined alongside him, to protect and watch over him. And though El¡¯enur quickly outranked his elder brother, not once did Ser¨¬n complain or begrudge his decision. In fact, he would always be there with a smile and some witty comment. When the mood suited him, there would even be a song.

    And he was gone.

    Now, unmoored and adrift, El¡¯enur had to loose himself upon something. Perhaps the soldier¡¯s routine would do it. So before long, El¡¯enur found himself in the Barracks district among warriors. He knew this place well. It was where he had proven himself, where he got himself noticed. He had stood out among hundreds of other men attempting the same feat. His skills were undeniable. El¡¯enur knew that. And yet it felt so empty this day. Still, he would vent his frustrations in this place. Unleash his pent-up stress. It had been too long since a good training session.

    He paced the grounds of the Barracks, acknowledging the passing soldiers emptily. Formally. Without his usual vitality. He was not even in the mood to put up with Tholn¡¯s antics this day. The ruddy Senh¨¬an outcast and fellow bowman in his mane spotted him and approached.

    ¡®El¡¯enur,¡¯ he called. ¡®Your meeting¡¯s already done?¡¯

    ¡®You know I hate meetings,¡¯ El¡¯enur replied matter-of-factly. ¡®I ran away.¡¯

    ¡®The old quack drained you that much, huh?¡¯

    ¡®More than you know,¡¯ El¡¯enur said with a sigh.

    ¡®Well, we¡¯re planning to hit up the tavern after training. Are you in? Might even stop by the bathhouses, you know?¡¯ Tholn¡¯s eyebrows shot up at the last comment, and he played nervously with a scar on his cheek. A scar that El¡¯enur had given him, he reminded himself. And yet the two remained close friends.

    ¡®Not today, Tholn,¡¯ said El¡¯enur as he started to make off.

    ¡®Oh, alright. I hope we see you later.¡¯ Tholn¡¯s disappointment hung in the air for a second, and then he was gone.

    El¡¯enur went ahead toward the longhouse. He threw a glance above before he entered the building, taking in the immensity of the cliff and castle. Like a striving sentinel, Fara¡¯ethar watched over the dealings of the Barracks. He had always enjoyed this view, but today it seemed to crush him. He entered the longhouse so he could begin training.

    Inside, Geren the grubby arms master sat at his desk where weaponry hire was handled. ¡®Ah, El¡¯enur,¡¯ he addressed the young archer gruffly, ¡®what will it be today?¡¯ Surrounded by a wall of weapons, the quartermaster loomed menacingly.

    ¡®All the arrows you can spare, Geren. And a shortsword.¡¯

    The man grunted and retreated to the back room for a moment. He returned with two quivers full of arrows and a sheathed sword, barely longer than a man¡¯s forearm. ¡®Freshly fletched, these are,¡¯ he said as he laid the weapons out on the counter. ¡®And this blade will probably do you for today.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you.¡¯ El¡¯enur said. He took the equipment and trudged off back outside the complex.

    He set up near the water¡¯s edge, away from other training warriors. A seaside watchtower rested to his right. The cliff face was still and content beside him. The sea gently lapped at the shore of the Barracks. And the storm inside him was unleashed.

    El¡¯enur let loose arrow after arrow. The bow sung a melody of wood and steel and hatred and loss. Each shot was made for a fallen brother. And though El¡¯enur did not know the face of the one who had done it, each target was imagined to be this Shurun¡¯el.

    When every arrow was spent, he turned to the practice dummy and loosed the sword upon it. El¡¯enur imagined what he would do should he come face to face with his brother¡¯s murderer. The tempest grew.

    Hours passed. Arrows launched. Blades slashed. Tears shed.

    El¡¯enur had no idea how much time had truly gone by. The sun seemed tired of watching over the affairs of men and was on its way out. Shades of twilight smattered in the distance announced the fall of night. The young soldier rested on a stone, expended. Out of arrows, out of breath.

    He sat unmoving while the rest of the world was in motion. Other warriors were gathering their supplies and returning them, unaware of the young man¡¯s turmoil. His bow and blade were discarded on the beach. Targets lay about, split by arrows. Pieces of the dummy cut apart by the sword littered the sand. El¡¯enur sat, his face buried in his hands. Deep in thought, revelling in the contentment of a long day¡¯s training.

    Then a soft voice broke through his reverie. ¡®El¡¯enur! So you¡¯re truly back? I missed your arrival last night. I couldn¡¯t find you in Commons.¡¯

    El¡¯enur lifted his head and saw Nelesa watching him. She looked lovely in a gown of sunset red laced with white and gold. Her hands were folded in front of her, hidden behind long sleeves. Nelesa¡¯s posture was reserved, as if waiting for permission to draw closer to her best friend.

    El¡¯enur never understood that side of her. They were no longer children prevented from seeing one another. Equal part scholar and warrior, Nelesa was now independent. And still she hesitated. As timid and reserved as the days when they first met.

    Still, apprehension and relief settled on the young archer. Her presence comforted him more than she realised. And yet, for her to see him in this state¡­ He looked away.

    ¡®El, I¡¯m sorry, is this a bad time? I got your message, so I thought I¡¯d come find you.¡¯

    He heard her step closer. El¡¯enur spun to her again. Nelesa was holding up a tattered parchment. He could make out the words he had scrawled earlier that day.

    Nel, I apologise I didn¡¯t show up last night. Find me when you can, at the Barracks.

    E.

    ¡®Found it on an arrow by my window,¡¯ she said. ¡®Would you happen to know anything about this?¡¯

    His attention turned to her face. Nelesa¡¯s smile brightened her obsidian eyes. They were a perfect match to her midnight hair. A black night streaked with moonlight blue, the mark of the Scholars¡¯ Guild. El¡¯enur always thought the blue locks looked best on her.

    ¡®How long has it been since you¡¯ve done this?¡¯ she asked.

    ¡®Too long, Nel,¡¯ he said, trying to offer a smile back. It faded, but the memories kept a hint of it alive. In their youth, El¡¯enur and Nelesa were separated from each other. Nelesa¡¯s father did not approve of the young archer¡¯s influence on his daughter. He believed the warrior¡¯s talk of battle distracted her from the purity of her calling in the Guild. ¡®You see to your bow, she will tend to her books,¡¯ her father had said one morning. The door had shut in his face and his friendship with Nelesa seemed ended. But ingenuity and persistence had won over.

    There was something maddeningly attractive about a girl who could run circles around him in logic and knowledge. El¡¯enur would not give up that friendship. So he would tie messages to arrows and shoot them up to Nelesa¡¯s bedchamber, arranging meetings in secret. Their friendship survived, as did their competitive nature and their dreams to see who would reach a higher rank in the Empire first. And now she eschewed traditional expectations and decided to pursue both the tome and the sword.

    ¡®Did something happen last night?¡¯ Nelesa asked.

    ¡®Yeah, I¡¯m sorry about that. Well, here I am,¡¯ El¡¯enur said resignedly.

    ¡®What¡¯s wrong, El?¡¯

    El¡¯enur grimaced inwardly. As much as he appreciated Nelesa¡¯s company, now that the moment came he did not want to open up. ¡®Nothing,¡¯ he sulked. He knew it was in vain. Nelesa always caught him when he was lying.

    ¡®A truth untold comes back with lies but twice as bold.¡¯

    ¡®Ah. Keth¨¦n¨¬r?¡¯ he probed unsurely.

    ¡®Lanurel, actually. But I¡¯m glad you remember the names of some of the scholars I study.¡¯

    ¡®Hey, I didn¡¯t entirely waste my one year in the Academy.¡¯

    Nelesa chuckled. It was in the Academy that they had met. All soldiers undertook a compulsory year of study, and then those academically inclined remained and followed the path to research.

    ¡®Good to hear it,¡¯ she said. ¡®Still, don¡¯t change the subject. What¡¯s bothering you?¡¯

    ¡®Everything¡¯s gone wrong these past few days, Nel. But it¡¯s my brother. That¡¯s the worst of it.¡¯

    Silence landed between them. El¡¯enur wrapped himself in it. Not even the noise of the seashore penetrated this armour. When he sighed, it seemed a hurricane. He steeled himself.

    ¡®There was a¡­ a mission,¡¯ El¡¯enur stuttered, ¡®to Silnod¨¬r¡­ and Ser¨¬n was involved. An ambush¡­ and¡­¡¯ He sniffled. ¡®I just found out yesterday. That¡¯s why I was absent. That¡¯s why I¡¯m here.¡¯

    There once lived free¡­ El¡¯enur pushed the notes and his brother¡¯s voice away.

    ¡®Look, I know this happens all the time,¡¯ El¡¯enur said through gritted teeth as he rose off the rock. ¡®I know people die, I can expect that. But still¡­¡¯

    Nelesa recoiled. She looked around at the mess of the training space and understood. ¡®El¡¯enur, I¡­¡¯

    El¡¯enur looked up once more and before he could do anything, Nelesa was on him. She embraced him. Tightly and fully. As the space between them closed, El¡¯enur was taken back to a time when it was just him and Nel. When they both aspired to serve the nation¡¯s army. To the two of them competing head to head. To the challenges that had stood before them. This was the woman who had decided to stand for what she believes, to trust in her commitment. He was glad she still stood beside him now.

    ¡®I am so sorry,¡¯ she said, almost in tears herself.

    ¡®I should¡¯ve been beside him,¡¯ El¡¯enur mumbled. ¡®I should¡¯ve¡­ I should¡¯ve¡­¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t blame yourself,¡¯ Nelesa whispered. ¡®Please.¡¯

    El¡¯enur sobbed helplessly into her shoulder. She did not say anything more. She did not need to. Her presence was enough.

    ¡®Thanks, Nel,¡¯ he said, finally pulling away.

    ¡®For what?¡¯ She drew back, retreated as if into a shell.

    ¡®For being here,¡¯ El¡¯enur offered. ¡®For being you.¡¯

    Nelesa smiled. ¡®It¡¯s the least I can do. You have always been there for me. You¡¯ve always pulled me along,¡¯ she said, looking down timidly. ¡®And when I was unwilling, you got behind me and pushed me until I could make it. I¡­ I just hope I can do the same.¡¯

    ¡®Nel, you say that as if I am far ahead of you. The truth is I don¡¯t have it together.¡¯

    Nelesa seemed to retreat even further into herself. She said nothing.

    ¡®But still, thank you,¡¯ he said. ¡®And you know, if anything, you are the one that I¡¯ve looked up to, ever since the Academy days. You have the mind of a scholar and the heart of a warrior, Nel. You couldn¡¯t stand still while the world suffered. And joining Darius¡¯ cavalry while doing ten hours of homework a day is not an easy feat.¡¯

    Nelesa nearly burst into laughter. ¡®Hey, you exaggerate! And besides, you won our race anyway. You made it to second-in-command first! You¡¯ll be making Amarant soon enough.¡¯

    El¡¯enur gave her a smile, a glimmer of his old self. Assured and cocky. Then he dropped it. ¡®I know I did. But titles don¡¯t mean much now. I found that out the hard way¡­¡¯

    ¡®El, I¡¯m¡ª¡¯

    ¡®No, no, it¡¯s alright. But see, I used to feel smug about my rank in this whole thing. I was especially proud that I was higher than my older brother. But I realise that Ser¨¬n was probably satisfied with how he did things.  He was content with how he lived his life, with whom he protected to the point of death.¡¯

    Nelesa kept her eyes on the ground and said nothing. El¡¯enur wondered how much she kept to herself. He wonder how much she kept hidden of what she felt and what she wanted to say.

    ¡®Anyway,¡¯ he continued, ¡®I can¡¯t dwell on that now. Ser¨¬n made the most of it. He didn¡¯t care for rank or repute. And he didn¡¯t whine or sulk. He just got things done. I want to be like that.¡¯ He sighed. ¡®And I¡¯ve got some apologies to make.¡¯

    ¡®He would be proud of you, you know,¡¯ Nelesa said, almost under her breath. ¡®I am as well, El¡¯enur.¡¯

    He smiled. ¡®Well, I should clean this up, actually. Geren will have my head if I don¡¯t return the equipment.¡¯

    Nelesa chuckled. ¡®I can help, El.¡¯

    ¡®Are you sure? You don¡¯t have to, if you don¡¯t have time. Actually, I¡¯m surprised you got out of the library so early. Don¡¯t they usually keep you back?¡¯

    ¡®Yes, but Amarant Darius wanted me to run a few errands at the stables. And since I was out, I came to find you as well.¡¯

    ¡®Oh. Well, let¡¯s get to it, then.¡¯

    With the beachfront cleaned and the equipment returned, El¡¯enur and Nelesa strolled on along the waterside. He recounted the trip to Kerena, focusing on the lighter moments rather than the gravity of the mission. El¡¯enur found himself appreciating Nelesa¡¯s company again. Far better to be with her than to mourn alone with gnawing thoughts and restless voices.

    ¡®You should¡¯ve seen Guldar in Kerena,¡¯ he was saying. ¡®The man goes mad if he goes without his horse for too long. More mad than usual, I mean.¡¯

    ¡®I see,¡¯ Nelesa said. ¡®I should take you riding one time.¡¯

    ¡®As in, on horseback? I don¡¯t do so well with those beasts. I don¡¯t trust anything with four legs.¡¯

    ¡®They¡¯re not so bad. And besides, you know me and Guldar. We trust horses and we¡¯re just fine.¡¯

    ¡®Well, Guldar¡¯s so big he may as well be a horse. And you, you know so many languages I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if you can speak horse.¡¯

    Nelesa gave him a look, her eyes contorted in gorgeous incredulity. ¡®That is the most ridiculous thing you have said.¡¯ But she could not help laughing anyway. El¡¯enur joined in. Their laughter mixed and played and filled the evening air.

    ¡®So no horses,¡¯ she said.

    ¡®No horses. But you could still show me something. I should take a look at a few of the histories. What can you get me on the Order of Seven?¡¯

    Nelesa stopped in her tracks. ¡®El¡¯enur? Back in the library? That¡¯s unheard of.¡¯

    He laughed and nudged her. ¡®Hey, this is important. I want to have a look at a few matters before the next meeting.¡¯

    ¡®Another one?¡¯

    ¡®Well, the last one didn¡¯t go so well. Amaleron¡¯s going to berate me for hours on behaviour unbecoming of a second-in-command of Anardes¡¯ military.¡¯ El¡¯enur mocked the old man¡¯s tone and vocabulary, prompting more laughter from Nelesa.

    ¡®I¡¯ll see what I can do, El.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you. The people responsible for¡­ the ones who killed my brother, they¡¯re claiming links to the ancient Order. Or at least pretending to. Maybe we could find something to help us there.¡¯

    Nelesa nodded gravely as she walked on. ¡®Of course, I would love to help.¡¯

    Sundown arrived silently. Eventide reds transitioned into nightly blues. They were still walking. The scene was disturbed by a grumble. El¡¯enur¡¯s stomach. He blushed and turned to Nelesa.

    ¡®I still owe you a drink,¡¯ he said suddenly. ¡®And a meal. I¡¯m starving. Let¡¯s head to Commons.¡¯

    ¡®You know I find the place revolting, and still you insist on meeting me there.¡¯ She smiled coyly. ¡®But for you, I¡¯ll do it.¡¯

    He smiled. As they walked on, other voices played in his head. But they belonged to those who were still here. Those whom El¡¯enur could still reach. Those for whom he would live and fight.

 Chapter Twelve - Stories Within the Sword

    It was the kind of day when the air tasted sweet and the wind seemed to sing. Valinos walked on, the tower, the birds, and the girl far behind him now. There was a strange burning sensation in his chest, a peculiar energy he could not put his finger on, a bizarre sense of freedom. Like the freshness of a clear sky after a storm.

    He stepped through the grounds of Fara¡¯ethar, passing grey buildings and grey servants. But he was a splash of colour. Suddenly, even unexpectedly, vivid. For Valinos, the moment of clarity among the birds burst like breaking light through heavy clouds.

    The weight of rash words and brasher actions pressed upon him. The uneasiness he had felt these previous days spilled over into his demeanour around his friend and the castle folk. Valinos realised he had alienated himself and those who would help him. With his head cooled and his mind cleared, he saw that there were things to do. Yes, apologies to be made.

    As he wandered through the courtyard, intending to head for the Main Hall, a dash of black stained the coloured canvas. He winced. A thin sliver of pain in his leg whispered to him, and every heartbeat pushed through shards of glass. No, this was not over.

    But Shurun¡¯el could wait. Mystery or no, Valinos was glad to be far away from Silnod¨¬r at last. He was at least content with that fact. The life he¡¯d led under the scrutiny of hostile villagers was gone. Far behind him. Whatever lay ahead, whatever answers he would find here, he decided in this momentary lucidity that he was to make the most of it.

    ¡®Going somewhere, boy?¡¯ a voice called out from behind him.

    Valinos spun, only to face Amarant Darius, who was sitting near the steps of the Hall of the Elders. Tucked between two pillars, the man seemed to be observing, watching the crowd. And watching Valinos in particular with eyes of blue steel.

    ¡®Have you been following me?¡¯ Valinos asked.

    ¡®Not exactly. But I have kept an eye on you. Long enough to know you¡¯ve been poking about.¡¯

    Valinos drew nearer, and as he did so, he felt the air tighten. He sharpened his gaze to try and match the Amarant¡¯s own intimidating stare but it was to no avail. Darius had him beat when it came to brooding glares. But he had not come here to practice his moody chops or fan the flames, but to apologise.

    ¡®Forgive me for taking matters into my own hands,¡¯ Valinos said. Darius narrowed his eyes. ¡®But about what happened earlier today¡­ at the meeting¡­¡¯

    ¡®You spoke foolish words. You did not know your place. You disrespected Lord Amaleron and his hospitality.¡¯

    Valinos flinched at each phrase, the accusations coming down like hammers.

    ¡®But I fared little better,¡¯ Darius said resignedly. He hung his head slightly, the hardness in his eyes receding. Valinos grimaced inwardly, preparing for perhaps another blow, but it never came. ¡®I¡¯m sorry. I should not have lashed at you as I did,¡¯ Darius continued. ¡®It¡¯s a failing of mine to strike when provoked.¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t dwell on it,¡¯ Valinos said dismissively. ¡®If the mood had been lighter, Asphales would have said I had it coming. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s even wanted to do it himself on occasion.¡¯

    Darius let out a short breath of laughter like a wisp of snowfall. ¡®Yes, on occasion. My own men have probably wanted to do the same to me.¡¯ The man¡¯s features brightened for a moment, but then settled back into haggardness. ¡®Still, you caused quite a stir, as did El¡¯enur. Both of you unsettled the proceedings.¡¯

    It was only then that Valinos noticed the weight this man seemed to carry. The Amarant was heavy with battle. He wore it on his shoulders and around his languid eyes. Even his voice seemed burdened with the pressures of war. His apparel showed the same signs of wear. The metal insignias which held the Amarant¡¯s coat bore scratched-out wolf¡¯s heads, but whether that was intentional or due to time¡¯s natural decay he did not know. Even the black claymore on which Darius¡¯ arm rested held its own story, each nick and scratch surely a bloody chapter.

    ¡®I apologise again,¡¯ Valinos said. ¡®I spoke and acted out of ignorance.¡¯

    Darius sighed. ¡®Well, with all that has happened to you this past tide, you can¡¯t be entirely to blame. You¡¯ve had to see and do things that no man unaccustomed to battle should experience. And there are matters going on far beyond our grasp.¡¯

    ¡®It¡¯s just that,¡¯ Valinos said, looking down, ¡®I felt that you didn¡¯t care for your own fallen men. I was concerned that the company was nothing more to you than another casualty of conflict.¡¯ Valinos could not help clenching his fists as he spoke.

    ¡®So your solution was to draw the dagger and rush out for vengeance? Don¡¯t be foolish, boy. We¡¯ll get our chance to strike, but hotheadedness is not going to help.¡¯

    ¡®Yeah, I see that. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve cooled my head now.¡¯

    ¡®And no,¡¯ Darius said with a tone that punctured like shattering ice, ¡®I do not think that way of my comrades. I knew those men better than you suppose. I drank, and fought, and bled with them. I chose them for that skirmish and I owe them for getting you and the other boy out safe. Their loss grieves me.¡¯

    ¡®So what will you do? What do you know of Shurun¡¯el? Of the Order?¡¯

    ¡®He is misery and ruin. He¡¯s grown to be a serpent and a fiend. I advise against pursuing him. At least on your own.¡¯

    ¡®How do you know him?¡¯

    ¡®That is not a story I share lightly. I desire neither your pity nor your help, so forgive me if I spare you the details. But know that he and I, and the Order too, have a history. One I intend to bring to a close.¡¯

    The words reassured Valinos as much as they frightened him. There was no doubt the Amarant was intent on carrying out his resolution. But Valinos was still unsettled. The Order seemed far beyond him. Shurun¡¯el far outmatched him. Yet he wanted a part to play in whatever would happen.

    ¡®You are a storm on the horizon,¡¯ Darius said suddenly, as if reading his thoughts. ¡®You remind me of myself.¡¯

    ¡®With all due respect, I don¡¯t think we are alike. Have you ever known a family? Did you have a mother and a father?¡¯

    ¡®Yes, in a sense.¡¯

    ¡®Well, then we have nothing¡ª¡¯

    ¡®I killed them with my own hands.¡¯

    Valinos drew back in silence. Darius¡¯ gaze was hard and unflinching. This was no jest.

    ¡®I still wonder if I would have turned out better had I never had my parents¡¯ input,¡¯ Darius spoke. ¡®Humph. Idle musings. But yes, I know what it¡¯s like to want to prove yourself. To do whatever it takes to find your place. I know the aimlessness.¡¯

    Confusion wrested Valinos from the clarity he had settled into earlier. How could a luxury he had never known be such a bane to another? Already the man had walked a longer, darker path and yet he seemed to have trod similar stepping stones.

    ¡®I don¡¯t pretend to know your story,¡¯ Darius said, ¡®but I recognise the eyes of a fellow in danger of being lost. Growing up in Kerena was hell, but given the shape of the world and the state of things, I don¡¯t suppose it¡¯s much different elsewhere. That¡¯s why I warned you earlier. Don¡¯t become like me. I¡¯ve done foolish and terrible things. I don¡¯t wish to see them repeated in the life of another. Don¡¯t let your anger take you. The rage you harbour will consume you otherwise.¡¯

    Valinos sat stunned. ¡®Why¡ª¡¯ he stammered, but he could not complete his thoughts. ¡®What do you fight for now, Darius? Do you fight for justice?¡¯

    Darius chuckled. ¡®You¡¯re starting to sound like Ledner. No, nothing so redemptive as that. I am simply killing on the other side of the fence. You see, I learned that life falls and fades as quick as snowflakes. I spent many years wandering, finding nothing but waste and pain. But this position as Amarant, it is all I have now. My last chance to use these bloodied hands of mine to protect and serve.¡¯

    ¡®I see,¡¯ was all Valinos could say. Both men stood wordlessly as the bleeding sky was drained of colour and day slowly settled into night. Torched flickered to life, staying the advance of dread and darkness. Valinos reflected on those he had met this day, and how they had dealt with their displacement. A girl who stayed where she was useful in spite of doubt. A man who made mistakes and learned from them in spite of guilt. What would he do?

    ¡®So you grew up in Kerena,¡¯ Valinos said eventually to break the silence. ¡®If Asphales knew, he¡¯d ask you a million questions. He loves the stories.¡¯

    ¡®There¡¯s nothing to love there, I¡¯m afraid. And either way, I imagine more will be asked of him in this coming time.¡¯

    ¡®What do you mean?¡¯

    Darius raised an eyebrow. ¡®Ah, you walked out before there was a chance to explain the reason behind our meeting. You should ask your friend about it yourself. It will do you both good. You¡¯ll need to know before the next council, anyway.¡¯

    Valinos thought back to his undignified exit at the meeting. ¡®Yes, it would be good to talk to him again. There¡¯s¡ª¡¯

    A creak and a commotion behind Valinos interrupted him. The gates of Fara¡¯ethar were opening and soldiers seemed to be gathering. Valinos looked to Darius, who had readied himself off the wall of the Hall.

    ¡®What¡¯s happening?¡¯ Valinos asked.

    ¡®I¡¯ve been waiting for someone,¡¯ Darius replied. ¡®And it seems they¡¯ve arrived.¡¯

    The Amarant began marching through the courtyard toward the Lion Gate, and Valinos followed expectantly. A crowd had already formed near the gate, and Valinos spotted Ithil¨¬r among the people. The sturdy servant noticed the Amarant¡¯s approach and drew near. He walked with his customary efficiency and severity of character.

    ¡®Ithil¨¬r,¡¯ Darius called. ¡®Is it them?¡¯

    ¡®Yes, my lord. Lady Catena and master Ishak have returned.¡¯ Ithil¨¬r acknowledged Valinos with a nod. ¡®Good to see you well also, master Valinos.¡¯

    As soon as he had spoken, the trotting of a horse splintered through the evening. The crowd parted as a wily black stallion emerged through the gates, bearing a man Valinos did not recognise and the scarlet-haired woman from the forest.

    ¡®Whoa,¡¯ called the rider, halting the horse inches away from the group. Up close, Valinos realised this was the same rider who had nearly knocked them down on their arrival at Fara¡¯ethar.

    ¡®Good to see you again, Ishak,¡¯ said Darius.

    ¡®You were right about Mas¨¬lminur, my lord,¡¯ Ishak panted as he dismounted. ¡®Never tired out and galloped the course faster than I thought possible.¡¯ The horse let out a proud snort.

    The rider handed the reins to the Amarant, who took them gladly. Darius fondled the horse¡¯s mane and pressed his head against it. ¡®Hello, old boy,¡¯ he whispered. ¡®You¡¯ve done well.¡¯

    ¡®It is good to see you, Darius,¡¯ the woman called. She hopped off the horse, her hair a brilliant, wild flame in the evening. The knight¡¯s armour clinked as she landed on the cobblestone. Then she straightened herself and came near the icy warrior.

    ¡®Evening, lady Catena,¡¯ he said warmly. ¡®I¡¯m glad you made it so speedily. There are¡­ well, there are quite a few things to discuss.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, I should imagine so.¡¯ She threw Valinos a glance. Her emerald eyes were unreadable. ¡®Good evening, Valinos. I am so glad to see you well.¡¯ There was genuine relief in the woman¡¯s voice.

    ¡®Who¡¯s this?¡¯ asked Ishak somewhat coldly, eyeing him.

    ¡®Ishak, this is Valinos of Silnod¨¬r. He is one of the two men I was to meet up with and escort to Fara¡¯ethar. It seems they¡¯ve done a fine job finding their own way.¡¯

    ¡®Oh, blessed Regulus,¡¯ Ishak gushed, and looked about ready to embrace the boy. ¡®You made it. And your companion is well, I suppose?¡¯

    ¡®He¡¯s¡­¡¯ Valinos began.

    ¡®He¡¯s fine,¡¯ Darius cut in. ¡®Most likely with the steward at the moment.¡¯

    ¡®Is that so?¡¯ the knight asked. ¡®Good. Good to hear it.¡¯

    ¡®Well,¡¯ Ithil¨¬r burst in, making his presence known, ¡®now that we¡¯ve exchanged pleasantries, we should be moving along. We must ready things for tomorrow.¡¯

    ¡®Ah, Ithil¨¬r!¡¯ the woman cried. ¡®I have missed your antics. It¡¯s good to be back.¡¯

    ¡®Good evening, my lady,¡¯ the servant said with a curt bow. ¡®But time is of the essence. Several things require your attention before the council tomorrow.¡¯

    ¡®A council?¡¯ Valinos asked.

    ¡®Yes, boy,¡¯ said Darius. ¡®While you were out visiting birds, Amaleron has made preparations for another meeting tomorrow. Try not to run out of this one.¡¯ Valinos flustered at the reminder.

    ¡®I must¡¯ve missed something,¡¯ Ishak commented. ¡®Anyway, I best be moving as well. And while I¡¯m at it, I should find a meal. I¡¯m famished.¡¯

    ¡®Ishak, thank you again for running this errand for me,¡¯ Darius said.

    ¡®Anything to assist, my lord.¡¯ With that, Ishak waved and walked off into shadow.

    ¡®I will take Mas¨¬lminur to the stables,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®My lady, find me tonight if you wish a report of developments in the time you¡¯ve been away. Valinos, go find your friend. Be ready for tomorrow.¡¯ The Amarant led his beast and left with nothing but footsteps in his wake.

    ¡®Yes, I will collect you when the time comes,¡¯ Ithil¨¬r said. ¡®But now that my favourite job of all¡ªputting you lot on task, is done, I must be going. My lady, I apologise that your reception has not been more dignified, but times are dire. You¡¯ll discover so at the council. Now, if you¡¯d excuse me.¡¯ The servant turned briskly and departed, even his steps seeming to keep track of time.

    Valinos now stood alone with the woman. She looked imposing in the torchlight, her armour afire with furious red and orange. Her silver blade was at the ready, strapped to her side.

    ¡®You¡¯re looking much better,¡¯ she said.

    Valinos wasn¡¯t sure if she was referring to his health or to the fact he had taken the shears to his head and beard. ¡®Listen,¡¯ he began. ¡®I never got to thank you for what you did¡­¡¯ He rubbed at his leg where the wound had bitten. It seemed a lifetime ago.

    The knight held up a hand and watched him kindly. ¡®No, it was the least I could do. It is my duty.¡¯

    ¡®Still, I feel like I haven¡¯t treated you right. If you hadn¡¯t done what you did, neither Asphales nor I would have made it out alive. And it seems there are strange things afoot, something bigger that I can¡¯t even wrap my head around. So, um, I¡¯m glad you saved us.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, and I am happy everything turned out alright. Now, this wouldn¡¯t have anything to do with my being an Amarant? Where is your usual temerity?¡¯

    Valinos chuckled nervously, but the woman¡¯s gaze was soft, even playful. ¡®Well, I admit I was not aware of that detail until later. Asphales picked it up, somehow. I think it¡¯s because he idolises anything to do with Fara¡¯ethar and its military and history. He knows all the stories.¡¯

    ¡®Songs and stories are good, Valinos. They help us find our way and our place.¡¯

    ¡®Maybe so.¡¯ For the first time, Valinos found that he could not scoff at the value of stories, given all that had happened recently. He left his doubts unspoken, however. What story did he fit into?

    ¡®Now, I¡¯m afraid I must leave as well,¡¯ the knight said. ¡®I have been away for too long. When you find Asphales, tell him that he shares good tales.¡¯

    ¡®Of course. So long.¡¯

    ¡®Starlight guide you,¡¯ she said with a gesture, and headed off across the bailey. Her gait made her seem as at home in the fortress as in her forest.

    In the quiet moments that followed, Valinos remained solitary in the courtyard with his thoughts. The only sounds were the murmurs of distant conversations from dispersed crowds. His time spent at Birdswatch came back, and the freedom he felt among those birds. His conversation with Amarant Darius had left an indelible mark on him also. And last of all, there were the words of the forest knight.

    Stories are good. They help us find our way and our place.

    He knew he had to find Asphales and make things right. Ithil¨¬r had mentioned the Hall of Records as the repository of the Empire¡¯s history. As good a place as any to find his friend. Surely the vast collection of books would have attracted Asphales by now, keen as he was to learn the story of starlight. Valinos looked around, orienting himself and finding the rectangular building.

    He made off in the direction of the Hall. Night had fallen. A breeze whisked through the courtyard of Fara¡¯ethar. The wind was still singing. But Valinos wondered what kind of song he would hear.

    * * *

    Asphales was surrounded by words. Books. Books as far as the eye could see. From his vantage point toward the rear of the room, shelves spread out evenly into the dim distance, like laden ships lined up in a dockyard. But the only rocking was that of his own, his excitement lapping to the surface. The place itself was silent and still. The wood of these shelf-ships seemed to show its age, settled with the weight of ancient words and the caress of secrets. The musk of old pages was in the air. Scholars with blue woven into their hair shuffled about noiselessly, as if to avoid disturbance in the lair of a beast.

    The dying day outside cast its last light through high windows but it was already receding like a tide. Study lanterns sprang to life on other desks and in sconces suspended above reading cloisters all around the library of the Hall of Records. Asphales reached for the dial on his own lamp and turned it a few notches. The device clicked and a fuzzy light sparked into a steady glow.

    He tended to the stacks of books on his desk, little towers of lore and learning amassed in the short space of a day. Asphales had spent the time since the morning¡¯s meeting in this library, poring over volumes, soaking in the Empire¡¯s history and heroes. He had never seen this many books. In Silnod¨¬r, he had owned his heirloom tome but aside from that, he contented himself with whatever time he could spend in the village¡¯s modest bookshop. In this library, the endless books all called to him. Part of him wanted to do nothing but spend his hours here reading. Had events this day not transpired as they did, he may have done just that.

    As it was, Asphales was now only distractedly leafing through a book detailing the exploits of Lanurel against Rath¡¯akar, the Stone King. His fingers traced the ornate lettering on the volume¡¯s spine. The Song of the Starfallen, it was called. But as exciting as the story was, and as much as he came here for these stories, this time a tale larger than he could imagine had come to him. It enveloped him. Made him remember. The one story not written with words washed up again. The one story etched in steel.

    Asphales stole a glance beneath his desk, where his father¡¯s coruscant blade lay, its carved surface sheathed and hidden.

    Hadar. His father.

    Asphales had always dreamt of a place in the story told by his book but he could never have dreamt of this. What did it mean to be an Elderchild? He pushed these thoughts away, partly because he was tired of wrestling with them in vain and partly because he wanted to return to his study.

    He sighed. A single breath stirred the pages in front of him like a wind plying sails with air. Be brave, he told himself. Sail on.

    ¡®So that¡¯s where half the library went,¡¯ someone called from behind him. Asphales was roused from his churning thoughts and turned in surprise. His hands instinctively covered the books scattered on the table, as if shielding them from a plunderer. A keen-eyed attendant stood proudly, comfortable in sky-blue overalls and snickering as he passed by on a presumed errand around the library. His slicked dark brown hair was knitted with blue stripes, much like that of the other workers dotting the room. Learned eyes like icy grey crystals were watching him.

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ Asphales said, ¡®I¡¯ve never had access to so many books before.¡¯

    ¡®Oh, I see. I imagine Silnod¨¬r was somewhat lacking in literature, then?¡¯

    Asphales flinched. ¡®Ah, you know who I am?¡¯This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡®I¡¯ve been informed. But I apologise, I don¡¯t mean to distract you from your study. Arhavel Renan, master of records, at your service.¡¯ The man bowed politely with one hand spread out to the side. The loose folds of his sleeve trailed out with the sweep of his palm.

    Master of records? So this man was overseer of these archives and keeper of the library. Asphales only now noticed the subtle differences telling this scholar apart from the others. His coat was a shade deeper than the rest, adorned with more golden tassels. He comported himself with more propriety, and gazed around with the familiarity one would express in his own home. Arhavel was clearly advanced in years, but the youth sculpted in his smile and laced in his voice betrayed a man of imagination.

    ¡®Asphales Es¨¦linor. A pleasure to meet you,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®You tend to a wonderful collection here.¡¯

    ¡®Likewise, and thank you. I can see you like stories. Well, fret not. These books aren¡¯t going anywhere, master.¡¯ The scholar had obviously noticed Asphales¡¯ hoard of books and looked at the cargo with curiosity. ¡®Why, you¡¯ve got there everything from¡¯¡ªArhavel peeked over Asphales¡¯ shoulders¡ª¡®Lanurel¡¯s accounts, to the Five Kingdoms¡¯ history, and even early Mendorian-era poetry. Quite an eclectic interest.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, these are all stories and songs I heard over the years. I thought I would read them in full here.¡¯

    ¡®Very good,¡¯ Arhavel said. ¡®But see, books are much like ships. Pretty to look at and they take you places, but you can only sail one at a time. You¡¯ve got yourself a veritable fleet there, young master.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯ll take care not to sink it,¡¯ Asphales said with a nod.

    ¡®Aye aye, captain,¡¯ the scholar said with hands up in mock surrender. Then he smiled. ¡®Still, it looks like you¡¯re sailing as if the world is about to run out of ocean. Take care, master. Tomorrow¡¯s another day. Let me know if I can assist with anything.¡¯ Arhavel paced away from the young man¡¯s desk and soon vanished between the countless shelves.

    Asphales returned to his books, his thoughts divided between Lanurel¡¯s struggle on the page and Arhavel¡¯s lesson. It had been a long day. He did need to take things easy and rest. Asphales buried his face in his hands and slumped on the desk. His wandering reflections landed on Valinos. Oh, Valinos. What would he think of all this? Asphales had not been able to find him since the meeting, but maybe it was for the best that his friend found time to himself to cool off.

    ¡®So, can we expect that you will soon be taking the blue?¡¯ said an elderly voice. For a moment, Asphales thought the cheeky attendant had returned, but when he whirled to see who had spoken he saw Amaleron walking toward him. The steward wore a smile on his wrinkled face and warmth was in his amber eyes. The old man seemed to capture something of the fading light and glow like¡­ like an Elder, Asphales thought. Of course.

    Amaleron approached the desk. ¡®May I take a seat?¡¯

    ¡®Please.¡¯

    The steward leant his staff against the wall and dragged a chair from a nearby reading corner. He sat, his billowing grey cloak all but swallowing the seat.

    ¡®Why do they do that?¡¯ Asphales asked as the steward settled in. ¡®Why do the scholars dye blue into their hair?¡¯

    ¡®Oh, that is an old tradition. The blue represents knowledge itself. Like the sky or the sea, wisdom appears infinite. And we can attain but mere strands of it.¡¯

    Asphales nodded.

    ¡®It also had a practical function,¡¯ the steward continued. ¡®In the days when peace was rarer and war the common coin, the Guild¡¯s mark made it easy to distinguish between scholar and soldier. Even in an invasion, most nations would spare the learned and preserve their knowledge while overthrowing their kingdom.¡¯

    ¡®Even the savage has a saving grace, then?¡¯

    ¡®Something like that. But anyway, I did not come here to discuss ancient customs, Asphales. Here.¡¯ Amaleron reached into his robe and produced a velvet-bound volume, faded red and gold.

    On the Reign of King Ulm¨¬r.

    Asphales had lent the steward his book earlier in the afternoon.

    ¡®Thank you for allowing me a look at it,¡¯ said Amaleron. ¡®I believe master Arhavel would consider this a feast. But I could never ask such a thing of you.¡¯

    Asphales offered an apologetic smile.

    ¡®That note at the beginning,¡¯ the steward said softly.

    ¡®My mother.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, I figured so. Your parents left this for you. They meant for you to one day learn of this.¡¯

    ¡®But they¡¯re¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Your father, yes. Hadar was slain to herald the return of the Dragonking. But your mother¡­ This is only a hunch, but I believe she lives still.¡¯

    Asphales recoiled. It felt as though all the world was drained of sound. ¡®What?¡¯

    ¡®I do not know why it took this long and I do not know why she would have left, but your father¡¯s sword appeared at Fara¡¯ethar intentionally with your name and location attached. I know of no other to whom Hadar could have entrusted his blade and his song.¡¯

    ¡®So you¡¯re saying¡­¡¯

    ¡®Your mother could still be out there. I cannot guess why she moves in secret. Perhaps she is in danger. But she knew what was at stake. She knew the hope that was to be found in you. And she let the Empire know. She led us to you.¡¯ Amaleron placed a hand on Asphales¡¯ shoulder. ¡®Please, remember this is conjecture. I would not think it wise to head out on a quest to find her. And I can speak no more on the matter.¡¯

    ¡®I understand.¡¯

    ¡®Now,¡¯ Amaleron began, releasing his grip and adjusting his chair slightly, ¡®I imagine you still have a lot of other questions. Well, I believe it is time to extend you the courtesy of whatever answers I can provide.¡¯

    Asphales sifted through the countless questions, supressing ones that would be asked in vain. For now, he had to be content with the momentary assurance that his mother lived.

    ¡®How are you still alive?¡¯ he finally asked. ¡®You witnessed Ulm¨¬r¡¯s rise and downfall, and events even before that! Are Elders immortal?¡¯

    The steward considered for a moment. ¡®No, but we do not age as mortal men. Our span is not undying and yet it will come to an end eventually. All beings share in starlight. The Nodir¨¬m are simply bound to it more closely, with a greater reserve of it being available to us. Still, we can be killed as all men are. But while in this world we dwell, we feel, act, and live as all do. We can even love¡­ for men we once were, and the blessing of Carinae yet stands.¡¯

    ¡®So that¡¯s how my father Hadar¡­¡¯

    ¡®Yes. He was not exempt from the longing for companionship. Or from the ability to love and be loved. And thus you were born, Asphales, son of starlight.¡¯

    The apprehension that Asphales had felt at his identity came biting back. ¡®What does that mean? How am I special? How am I meant to take this on?¡¯ He thought of the beast and the darkness. The magnitude of a thousand-year menace pressed on him.

    ¡®I do not know fully, for the fragments of the ode we possess only hint that those like you will fend against the spread of dark.¡¯

    ¡®You mentioned¡­¡¯ Asphales looked down at his folded hands.

    ¡®You are not alone in this, Asphales. Hadar was not the only one who fell for mortal woman and had a child. There was at least one other. Menkalinan, too, found love. And they had a daughter, one who holds the forests in her heart.¡¯

    Asphales¡¯ head whipped to the side in surprise. His eyes fastened onto Amaleron. He had to stop himself from springing out of his chair.

    ¡®You know of whom I speak.  You have met her.¡¯

    Flowers in the wind.

    Scarlet and emerald.

    ¡®Ad¨¦lia is a¡­¡¯

    ¡®Yes. All the better that you know her true nature as well as her real name. For you two are alike, and you shall both be entwined in the struggle against the Dragonking. It is you two whose strength shall be revealed by the ode of the Nodir¨¬m.¡¯

    Asphales could barely register the steward¡¯s words. He thought back to his time in Gohenur. To the knight among the flowers, the girl draped in violet hues and golden light. To the connection he had felt while sharing stories with her.

    ¡®Asphales, are you listening?¡¯ Amaleron cut in.

    ¡®Ah, yes. I¡¯m sorry. There¡¯s just so much to take in. I think I¡¯ve had enough revelations for one day.¡¯ He sighed and wiped his brow.

    Amaleron chuckled. ¡®You are not the only one overwhelmed. I am puzzled by the design of Regulus. The strength of stars and the love of man. Somehow, this is what will combat the shadow.¡¯

    ¡®Is that what is meant by the reference to a ¡®starry crown and blood¡¯ in the song of sealing?¡¯ Asphales asked, vaguely recalling a line from the hymn.

    ¡®I believe so. Before I heard your father¡¯s fragment, I was not sure what to make of all this. When I found out Ad¨¦lia was the daughter of Menkalinan years ago I struggled to make sense of things. And then I learned of the son of Hadar. It was only when I read the runes on the sword, when his piece of the song was heard, that I realised this is perhaps how things are meant to be.¡¯

    ¡®What do you mean?¡¯ Asphales asked.

    The steward was silent for a moment. ¡®Those of Elderlight are not meant to sire offspring,¡¯ he said with a pensive look. His eyes were elsewhere, distant. ¡®And yet,¡¯ he continued, ¡®it seems that good may come of this.¡¯

    ¡®So, did my father do something wrong by loving Thalassia? Was he wrong to have me?¡¯ Though Asphales did not mean to, a flush of anger and a pang of sorrow slipped to the surface.

    Amaleron looked at him earnestly. There was no disdain in his gaze, nor malice in his tone. ¡®No, Asphales. I do not believe that. My mind tells me that the Nodir¨¬m are not supposed to interfere in mortal affairs. We could guide and assist, but no more. And yet, my heart says that this is all part of how things are meant to play out.¡¯

    ¡®Are there others?¡¯

    ¡®Not that I am aware of. Asphales, I am sorry that you and Ad¨¦lia carry such a burden. A great task is laid upon you. Will you still rise?¡¯

    ¡®Yes. For my father, for my mother, for Anardes. I cannot let the shadow conquer all I know and love.¡¯

    ¡®I am glad to hear that,¡¯ Amaleron said, a warm smile playing about his lips. ¡®You should speak with Amarant Ad¨¦lia when she arrives.¡¯

    ¡®Yeah, I¡­ I should. Why does she do that? Leave the castle, I mean. Why does Ad¨¦lia stay in Gohenur?¡¯

    ¡®Ah, Asphales, she carries a great wound. She lost everything when Menkalinan was slain. She does not grieve only for her father and her mother, but for her home. And yet even more was taken from her than you know. So for that, she needs time to herself often.¡¯

    Asphales looked down, remembering Ad¨¦lia¡¯s brokenness and grief. There was pain behind her shielded eyes; that much he knew.

    ¡®She also has a close connection with the forest and the land, Asphales. Instilled by her father, no doubt. Menkalinan himself expressed an affinity for all that lived in the woods. So I provided her lodgings and leave even after she attained to the rank of Amarant. It affords Fara¡¯ethar strategy also, giving us a closer watch on Upper Anardes. The Woodland Waypoint is the convergence point for many travellers and tidings.¡¯

    The Waypoint. The moments of revelry and relaxation with the Guard flooded back. Asphales could almost smell the food and ale, and hear the laughter and song. But when he came to, what awaited him was not the mirth and brightness of the tavern, but the dim and quiet of the study hall. Darkness had settled outside and even seeped into the library, its reach stayed by the lanterns which shone like flickering stars. Scholars looked to be making preparations for closure around the chamber.

    ¡®Well, I believe we should be moving along,¡¯ the steward said. ¡®They will close us in otherwise.¡¯ He rose off his seat and grabbed his staff from its resting place.

    ¡®And books make poor pillows,¡¯ Asphales commented. He pushed his chair back and stretched his legs. He accidentally kicked the sword beneath his desk. A clatter rang through the library.

    ¡®Oh, you brought the blade with you,¡¯ Amaleron said, peering beneath the table. ¡®That reminds me, Asphales. Soon you will need to learn the sword. I presume the company captain instructed you a little. You will resume your training.¡¯

    Asphales nodded as he picked up the sword. He unsheathed it slightly, looking at the blade. ¡®How come it doesn¡¯t shine like in the stories?¡¯ he asked. ¡®It doesn¡¯t have the same intensity I imagined from reading Ulm¨¬r¡¯s account.¡¯

    Amaleron smiled. ¡®My boy, the sword you hold was indeed like a star itself in your father¡¯s hands. That was due to the strength of his lifeforce.¡¯ He paused. ¡®Astera pl¨¥ie,¡¯ he chanted softly.

    In that moment, the gem at the tip of the steward¡¯s staff pulsed to life. The rough-cut jewel let off light, a warm yellow and orange hue that enveloped the chamber for a second. Night itself was pushed back for that instant, but then the colour faded and the gem was dormant once more. Though the spectacle had been subdued, Asphales caught a glimpse of an Elder¡¯s mastery.

    ¡®See, when I said you will return to training, there shall be plenty new to learn. How to use your lifeforce is just such a thing. And I know precisely the man to instruct you in it.¡¯ Amaleron smiled and gave him a look that forestalled any further questions.

    ¡®So to training I go, then.¡¯ Asphales returned to his sword with renewed attention, as if willing the blade to gleam. But nothing happened. He recalled the flash of brightness in the Hall of Elders, but could not repeat the feat.

    ¡®In a little while, my boy. It is Moonspell today. Tomorrow we shall gather for council once more. There is a lot to set in order there. And afterward, I believe some celebrations are in order, for the light yet shines. But yes, very soon.¡¯

    Just then, brisk steps rounded a corner and a blue-clad figure stormed toward Asphales¡¯ desk. Arhavel approached like a roiling cloud, apparently drawn by the steward¡¯s unnatural lightshow.

    ¡®I will not have anything posing a hazard around these tomes,¡¯ he fumed. ¡®Not even from the steward of Anardes. In the Hall of Records, I am ruler.¡¯

    Asphales cowered for a moment, but then he saw there was no real conflict between the two men. Both steward and librarian burst into soft, cackling laughter.

    ¡®My friend,¡¯ said Amaleron, ¡®if I could not control this light, then strip me of my rank for I am no Nod¨¬r¡­¡¯ He cleared his throat and pointed to Asphales. ¡®This one is a voracious reader. You could keep him around.¡¯

    The librarian smiled. ¡®I¡¯ve already noticed. Working late this evening, master Asphales?¡¯ he asked, throwing a gaze in his direction.

    ¡®Ah, no. Actually, I was just leaving. But I should probably return these first.¡¯ Asphales glanced ruefully at his desk. The piles of books were large indeed.

    ¡®Don¡¯t worry about that,¡¯ Arhavel said with a wink. ¡®I can do that for you. You go on ahead. How much of it did you get through?¡¯

    Asphales blushed. ¡®Hardly made a dent,¡¯ he admitted.

    Arhavel laughed and then dutifully tended to the desk. Amaleron and Asphales bid him farewell and headed toward the entrance.

    ¡®Does everyone know about you? About the Elders?¡¯ Asphales asked as they paced the carpet. Lights died all around them, snuffed by busy attendants.

    ¡®It is common knowledge in Fara¡¯ethar. But for good reason, that knowledge is not to pass beyond the walls of the castle. I am sure you can already guess as to why.¡¯

    ¡®Yeah. It¡¯s just so different to when I was in Silnod¨¬r. And it makes some sense of what I experienced. The Elders were a myth there, Ulm¨¬r a far-off name with no concern for our affairs.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, in that case life at Fara¡¯ethar would be quite peculiar.¡¯

    ¡®And that¡¯s how Valinos sees things. Ah, what will I tell him? Will he come with me? I don¡¯t know how he will take this. Will who I am change things between us?¡¯

    ¡®You were aimless until now, Asphales. But no longer. There shall be a task ahead of you. For you, the tragedy of your childhood was a full stop that came too soon. A sentence ended prematurely. But from what you have told me, Valinos¡¯ life is scribbled on an empty page. A torn, crumpled sheet. Blank. How will he fill it? Will he find other pages to join to his script? We cannot answer that for him. But I believe your friendship shall overcome his pride and pain. It may take some time to burn the resentment that fuelled him, but he will come around.¡¯

    ¡®I hope so,¡¯ Asphales said.

    And then he was there. Twenty paces ahead, at the doorway to the Hall, Valinos was walking in. Asphales stopped in his tracks, as did Valinos. He looked different. Even in the weak light of the Hall, Asphales could tell something had shifted in Valinos¡¯ eyes. There was less of an edge to his posture, less tension in his stance.

    ¡®Valinos!¡¯ cried Asphales. ¡®Just the person I wanted to see.¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯re an easy man to find,¡¯ Valinos said. ¡®I just had to follow the smell of bookish fisherman, right up to this library.¡¯

    Asphales marched up to his friend, sword in hand and smile on his face. He glanced back at Amaleron, who merely gave a curt and approving nod. Then the two were gone, out into the night.

    ¡®It¡¯s been quite a strange day,¡¯ Asphales said as he and Valinos stepped through the grey alleys of the castle grounds. ¡®I don¡¯t even know where to begin. Where have you been, though?¡¯

    Valinos sighed. ¡®Well, after my less than spectacular departure from the meeting, I needed time to clear my head. Found a nice place to do just that.¡¯

    ¡®Are you holding up alright, my friend?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m better.¡¯ Valinos¡¯ blue eyes had a strange warmth to them, a tranquillity Asphales had only rarely seen.

    ¡®I¡¯m glad to hear that. I didn¡¯t know what to do once you had run out of the Hall this morning.¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯re hopeless. What use is a fisherman without his bearings?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m not a fisherman,¡¯ Asphales contested, accompanied by a gentle fist striking Valinos¡¯ shoulder.

    Valinos laughed. ¡®You¡¯re right. Fishermen don¡¯t usually carry swords. So what¡¯s the story there?¡¯ His eyes glanced down to Asphales¡¯ blade.

    Asphales slowed, his footsteps gradually receding to a halt. There was only the low hum of distant activity, somewhere within the maze of wall and brick around them. Moonlight filtered through the crowded buildings of Fara¡¯ethar, colouring the alley in an eerie, surreal azure. Asphales collected his thoughts before continuing. What he was about to say would strain credulity, he knew.

    ¡®Valinos, you¡¯re not going to believe this, but¡­ This sword belonged to my father once. It passed down to me, but the important thing is¡­ is that he was an Elder. His name was Hadar.¡¯

    ¡®Hadar?¡¯ Valinos queried. ¡®As in, the Hadar, Hadar the Mighty of your storybook?¡¯

    Asphales nodded, eyes fixed on the cobblestone below and his lips pursed in anticipation of how Valinos would respond. He tapped nervously on the sword sheathed at his side.

    ¡®If you had told me that earlier today, I would¡¯ve called you a fool seven shades crazy.¡¯ Valinos chuckled. ¡®But I know you¡¯re no fool, so I¡¯m trying to whittle down that number.¡¯

    Asphales raised his eyes and tried to read the expression on Valinos¡¯ face. It was not disbelief, nor mockery. But neither was it full, grateful acceptance.

    ¡®Alright, so let¡¯s assume that¡¯s true,¡¯ Valinos said. ¡®When you lost your father twelve years ago... do you know what happened?¡¯

    ¡®Well, I¡¯m still not sure who was behind it, only that the bandits we met in Gohenur are linked to them. But someone is hunting the Elders. See, if you remember the story, the Elders¡¯ seal is connected to the Dragonking. If all the Elders die and their song is broken, Ulm¨¬r will return. Along with something much worse.¡¯

    ¡®Yeah, I¡¯ve pieced together something like that.¡¯ Valinos began walking again, prompting Asphales to follow. ¡®I still find it hard to believe that childhood book of yours was¡­ true.¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯re not the only one, Valinos. All of a sudden I find myself thrust in the middle of this story as some sort of child of starlight. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m meant to be doing yet! I have no idea how I¡¯m meant to stop anything from happening!¡¯

    ¡®Well, if you play your role half as well as you act that of Hadar, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be fine. As for me¡­¡¯

    ¡®Valinos, you¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t worry about me, Asphales. I will find something.¡¯ There was a glint in Valinos¡¯ eyes, a flash of ice. ¡®I¡¯m still glad we¡¯re out of Silnod¨¬r. That sentiment has not changed. And I¡¯ve still got my sights on those behind the attack in the forest. If for nothing else, I will stop them because of that.¡¯

    ¡®I have a suspicion that what Captain Ledner taught us on the way will come in handy. There¡¯s more to come of this, my friend.¡¯

    ¡®No doubt. Keep your blade sharp and your skills honed.¡¯

    ¡®Who would¡¯ve thought that two simple boys from Silnod¨¬r would end up here?¡¯

    ¡®Or not so simple, as it turns out. Besides, we were never right for that place.¡¯

    The two walked for some time wordlessly. They came to a surprisingly busy section of the castle grounds, weaving through a horde of servants carrying supplies. Perhaps this was preparatory for whatever ¡®celebration¡¯ Amaleron had in mind, for there seemed to be a great amount of foodstuffs carried through. Once the crowd was clear, Asphales felt it right to speak again.

    ¡®There¡¯s more, Valinos.¡¯

    ¡®Hmm?¡¯ he said without turning.

    ¡®My mother¡­ she may still be alive.¡¯

    ¡®What? But she disappeared, didn¡¯t she?¡¯

    ¡®Yes, and I still can¡¯t make sense of that. But these recent events¡­ the sword arriving at Fara¡¯ethar, the Empire being made aware of my name and location. I want to believe it¡¯s her. I want¡ª¡¯ Asphales found it hard to continue. Memories of his mother arose unbidden. However, she was but opaque flashes of colour, of amethyst and silver. Snippets of voice and song and laughter. He was snapped out of it by a consoling hand on his shoulder.

    ¡®Asphales, if that¡¯s the case,¡¯ Valinos said, ¡®there¡¯s still a chance for you to find out what really happened. To you. Maybe even to me. I may never know what befell my parents, or what led them to¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t say that,¡¯ Asphales interjected. Valinos replied with a sharp gaze and an interrupted breath.

    ¡®Look, all I mean to say is that the pieces of our past need not be so scattered. Maybe we can finally figure it all out.¡¯

    ¡®If only,¡¯ Asphales mused. ¡®But I can¡¯t just go out looking for her. If she¡¯s out there, if she¡¯s involved in all this¡­ maybe one day she¡¯ll show up.¡¯

    Valinos patted him and nodded. ¡®I hope so. I would be happy for you.¡¯

    ¡®Valinos, will you truly be alright? For the longest time, our bond has been one around our shared confusion and pain. What would that change?¡¯

    ¡®Nothing,¡¯ he said immediately. ¡®We¡¯ll forge ahead as we¡¯ve always done.¡¯ Valinos turned to walk again but stopped himself. ¡®I admit,¡¯ he began, ¡®that I was afraid today.¡¯

    ¡®Of what?¡¯

    ¡®Of you. Of this. I was afraid that somehow I had lost the one closest to me, the only true friend I¡¯ve known so far. When I saw how you well you fit in, in the forest and in here, I felt inferior. I could feel that you were something special. But I¡¯m glad to know, after speaking with you again, that you haven¡¯t changed.¡¯

    ¡®Of course, Valinos. Who I am doesn¡¯t affect that. I will remain by your side. I give you my word.¡¯ Asphales thought for a moment. Then he unsheathed the blade at this side and raised it above his head. It glistered with moonlight, each carven word a subtle shift in hue.

    ¡®Here,¡¯ he said. ¡®Let¡¯s make it official. I, Asphales Es¨¦linor, solemnly make an oath to defend and assist you and to ensure that you are never alone, should all the stars above fall into the abyss. Are you with me, Valinos?¡¯

    Valinos shook his head and averted his eyes. ¡®You dramatic idiot. Too bad I left my sword in my room. Otherwise I¡¯d have cut you down where you stand to cease this embarrassment.¡¯ Then he raised an imaginary sword in return. ¡®I, Valinos of Silnod¨¬r, hereby accept your vow and swear the same.¡¯

    Perhaps it was the lack of enthusiasm in Valinos¡¯ voice, or simply the late hour, but both men burst into laughter. Their voices echoed through the grounds, no doubt ruining the sleep of nearby residents. But in this emboldened moment, not even Amarant Darius could mar the jest and gesture the two shared.

    Lowering their actual and imaginary oath-blades, Asphales and Valinos continued the trek toward the Hall of Residence. It was only now that Asphales noticed how odd evenings were within the castle walls, for no birds or creatures of the night decorated the scene with music. Stone was a stately and silent companion.

    ¡®So what happened between you and Amarant Darius?¡¯ Asphales asked, filling out the silence of the night. ¡®Did you run your mouth as usual?¡¯

    ¡®Guilty as charged,¡¯ Valinos said with a nervous chuckle. ¡®I may have said some unwise things. Darius set me straight. That Kerenani has the grip of a bear.¡¯

    ¡®Darius is from Kerena?¡¯ The question exploded out of Asphales¡¯ mouth. ¡®But that means he¡¯s a¡­ they were¡­¡¯

    ¡®Yeah, you¡¯d be surprised. He seems to have all the ferocity of your tales but I don¡¯t think he¡¯s here to pillage and pilfer. In fact, I¡¯d say there¡¯s far more to the man. He acts like one who carries bitter pain and guilt. But he¡¯s tight-lipped about it.¡¯

    Asphales listened to Valinos¡¯ account of the Amarant with surprise. He was intrigued to find out that the Kerenani¡ªthe legendary raiders of old¡ªcould be so¡­ human. To see one in person, even if he had not realised it at the time, was unsettling and awe-inspiring. He reminded himself again how ignorant his sheltered existence in Silnod¨¬r had been.

    ¡®Still, he seems so scary,¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®No kidding. I spent some time with him earlier. His stare could keep cold meat frozen.¡¯

    ¡®Reminds me of a certain brooding friend of mine.¡¯

    Valinos sneered, throwing him a decidedly unpleasant glance. ¡®But now that we¡¯re on the topic of meat, do you reckon there¡¯s a nice meal waiting for us at the Hall?¡¯

    ¡®I sure hope so. I haven¡¯t eaten much today.¡¯

    ¡®Only one way to find out. Race you there?¡¯

    ¡®Valinos, I¡¯m no longer a fifteen year old boy.¡¯

    ¡®No,¡¯ he said, punctuating his sentence drastically, ¡®but you¡¯re still losing.¡¯ He dashed off before the last word was formed, leaving Asphales stunned in the darkness behind him.

    Spurred to action, Asphales took off after him. He ran after Valinos, who was a moving silhouette ahead of him. Shadows flitted in and out encroaching blackness as they passed street torches and their footsteps fell like an uneven drumbeat.

    The walls to his left were a blur. The grounds to his right were an unmoving mass of grey in the night. And still Valinos was edging near to his victory ahead of him. Asphales bemoaned his attire. His formal gear was not particularly suited to running. He longed for the freedom of his work tunic and trousers.

    In an attempt to gain the lead, Asphales took a winding corner and headed into a side-alley near the rear of the Hall of Records. He hoped the passage would emerge closer to the residential quarters. He clambered over obstacles awkwardly and had to dodge wagons and more people who were either dutifully transporting gear or gratefully heading to their homes for the night. Asphales only wished that Valinos ran into similar misfortune of traffic on his route.

    After what felt like an eternity of nondescript grey walls, Asphales came out into open space. Ahead of him, less than a hundred paces away, was the Hall of Residence. He recognised its towers and its many-windowed fa?ade. Many lights still gleamed inside. The building was alight with life.

    The plan had paid off. Valinos now lagged behind him a few yards. The race would be a close call, however. Asphales pushed himself further, feeling the sharp sting of fatigue draining his stamina. A pain in his side, a memento from an unpleasant time, complained with every added step.

    But the effort was worth it. He broached the perimeter of the Hall of Residence victorious. He stopped with a hand against a torchpost, huffing and wheezing. Valinos skidded to a stop not far behind him a few seconds after.

    ¡®That,¡¯ Valinos panted, ¡®was ridiculous. And entirely unfair. I¡¯m wounded, you know!¡¯

    ¡®Still,¡¯ said Asphales, his breaths not faring much better, ¡®you asked for it. And it seems I¡¯ve won.¡¯

    ¡®No, you both lose,¡¯ came a voice. It was anything but pleased.

    Asphales raised himself and tried to catch his breath, only to meet the steely gaze of Ithil¨¬r. The master-servant was fuming.

    ¡®Never before have I had the displeasure of minding such a pair of ingrates and loiterers. What in the name of¡­ what are you two doing?¡¯

    ¡®Warming up, Ithil¨¬r,¡¯ Valinos said after a cough. ¡®It¡¯s a cold night after a long day. Now we¡¯re simply winding down.¡¯

    ¡®Master Valinos, you of all people. I heard you made quite the show of the meeting this morning.¡¯

    ¡®Just giving people like you something to talk about. I know how desperate you must be for excitement.¡¯

    Valinos¡¯ tactless comment did not go down well. After a lengthy string of berating, Ithil¨¬r grudgingly led both of them inside and brought out a meal in the foyer¡¯s dining area. He set the table for them with all the gentleness and pleasant demeanour of a wild bear woken from hibernation only to find its cubs missing.

    Between bites of honey-soaked chicken roast, steamed mushrooms, and salt-coated boiled potatoes, Asphales and Valinos shared stories of the day and made jokes at Ithil¨¬r¡¯s expense. Half a watch and a full glass of Senh¨¬an orange drink later, Asphales was prepared to call it a day. He wiped his mouth with a frilled handkerchief and called his compliments to Ithil¨¬r. To call the master-servant¡¯s response a smile would be to stretch things.

    ¡®Thank you, Valinos,¡¯ he said as he rose from the table. ¡®We can make something of this yet.¡¯ He looked around the holdings of the chamber, but his gaze implied all of Fara¡¯ethar and its life.

    ¡®Perhaps,¡¯ Valinos said between sips of his own beverage. ¡®I don¡¯t understand everything yet, and I still want to discover why I am here. But yes.¡¯

    ¡®A good night to you,¡¯ Asphales said with a motion of exaggerated flourish.

    ¡®By the way,¡¯ Valinos added, as if remembering something, ¡®the girl from the forest is back.¡¯ He smirked contentedly, rose, and left for his quarters with a smug step.

    Asphales watched him go before considering his words. He smiled to himself. Tonight he would watch the stars again. Watch and think and hope. It was a day for dreaming, a day for longing.

 Chapter Thirteen - Scars Within the Sky

    A drip.

    A dream.

    A fall.

    A flame.

    A drop.

    A step.

    A silent scream.

    A word.

    A way.

    Awake.

    The woman woke to the pit-pat of moisture as it slid off the rock face and splashed into a small pool near her bedding. It was not much of a bed, a simple stone slab cushioned by coarse linen blankets, but it was all she had. She reached a hand drowsily to touch the tiny cascade of water in the dark. Like cold tears, they refreshed her thirsty skin. Was the earth weeping again? Even something with such a stony heart could hurt, it seemed. Could break. Could fall apart.

    The woman had been woken up by something bright. In her mind¡¯s eye, half enveloped by a dream, the brightness opened up far above her, a yawning chasm leading to unbounded freedom.

    No, it was but a trickle of light seeping through a taunting crack. The ceiling she now stared up at loomed suffocatingly close, the slit through which a faint song of light crawled in the only relief from total blindness.

    It was another day in darkness. She kept time as best she could in a place where light never showed its face and the stars did not turn. The woman had given up counting after what seemed a thousand upon a thousand days, but still she did not give in. She had not always been trapped here. Years before¡ªhow many years, years, years¡ªshe had a life outside. A life before the tears¡ªhow many tears, tears, tears¡ªwere spilled and spent. But there was no point crying or screaming anymore. Agony could never pierce the silent stone, the endless weight of earth above.

    The caverns had become her home.

    Home.

    No.

    This was not home.

    Not this.

    She missed the feel of grass, the way each blade caught between her toes. She pined for the gentle sands of her homeland. All she stepped on now was gravel, rock, and dirt. Traitorous and hurtful. This was not home. A dark place which scared her so much¡ªhow many fears, fears, fears¡ªcould never be a home.

    She tried to focus. She tried to remember her misty dreams. For at least in her dreams she was free. But it was like chasing shadows. And she knew that when she left this bed she would enter the shadows all around her, but they would not yield to her. They would show her nothing.

    The woman rose anyway. She threw off the blanket, a thin cloth cobbled together from different strips of fabric, and placed her feet on the cold, hard ground. In that moment, the mountain took a breath. A shuddering breeze swept through the innards of the cave and past the woman¡¯s face. It came from somewhere and carried its whispers off to who knows where. Oh how free the wind was. How free to come and go as it pleased, not bound by what shackled her.

    But then it was gone, and she was again surrounded by the stuffy cavern air. Gone like her dreams, out of reach.

    So, first things first. She stood up off the altar of her bed. Yet she always rose with the sickly sense that she had forgotten something. She always woke with the dread that things would be better if she had lain on that cold stone forever. But that would be giving up. And the harsh men who ruled this place would never allow it. Still, that disorienting sensation lingered.

    Who was she in this infinite darkness?

    It would not come to her.

    Her name.

    Her name would not come to her.

    Who was she in this darkening infinite?

    The woman looked around. Her name was not in her bed. It was not in the stone. She could not find it in the cobwebs of her mind. Every day she searched for it. Every day she came up short. She liked to believe that maybe one day she would stumble upon it. Her name had been pried out of her, beaten, thrown, and dashed against the rocks. Could it still be found?

    She had lost it. Perhaps her name was swept away by a river. Perhaps it dropped off a bridge into a ravine, lingering and lost. Perhaps it waited in a forlorn corner of this rancid cave, rusty and abandoned. Perhaps it waited on the lips of a welcome rescuer.

    No, those thoughts were folly.

    So every day she realised and accepted that her new name was all around her. In the dark. Her true name long-forgotten, this was the only thing she could cling to. It was what the others also called her.

    Midnight.

    A name to fit her moonstone eyes, which shone like twin lunar lights. A name to suit her hair, black and straight like sable blades. A name to match her beauty, pale and slender like the touch of a summer night¡¯s moon. Someone had once told her she was as pretty as the night sky. Long ago, when she could still gaze at the heavens until the late hours sang their lullabies and she fell for their songs. Long ago, when there was nothing above her but open, open, open sky.

    Midnight.

    So she knew that though her clothing was nothing special¡ªmere rags, dirty and hardly fitting¡ªshe was a gem in the dark. But she also knew beauty in a place like this had a price. The Heartless¡ªthose who forced her and a thousand other men, women, and children to labour and do their bidding¡ªwere cruel and fickle. The women who took the fancy of the Heartless fell prey to their whims and could be taken anywhere.

    No one would hear.

    No one would heed.

    No one would dare.

    What was the point of beauty if it brought sorrow? She had tried in the past to pry the beauty from herself. She had tried to rip out her hair, to scar her face and body. But the others never let her. Her fellows could not stand and watch her suffer out of pity. And the guards would not permit her to harm herself out of perversion.

    Worse things would follow if she did.

    So she lived on with this curse, each day wishing she was someone else, somewhere else.

    With her mental adjustments made, all the familiar physical sensations of a new day made their presence known. Her grumbling stomach¡ªwhich had long ago ceased being an accurate indicator of time¡ªcomplained vainly. Bruises which she had forgotten in her sleep returned with the vengefulness of an insulted ruler. Her blistered feet railed against her will to keep standing and walking. Without much else to see by, these pains were her only point of reference in the dark. Reminders that she was still here. Still here.

    But the harsh light soon came. A haze of firelight grew somewhere in the distance. The ridges of the cave¡¯s walls tremored as shadows fled from the torch. Scampering footsteps alerted her to someone approaching. The distinctive skip in stride told her it was old man Hops. Midnight¡¯s instincts, perked on edge like a deer in potential danger of a predator, relaxed. She breathed again.

    The old man appeared from a turn in the cavern¡¯s twists, enveloped in yellow and red. The torchlight accentuated his age, making each line on his face seem deeper etched than his actual years. Hops had been here before Midnight arrived years ago. The others named him that because of his limp. He hid it well when working and under the watchful eye of guards¡ªafter all, his prospects would not look good if his infirmity was known¡ªbut Midnight knew that in secret, when he was alone or with the others, his habit returned.

    ¡®Midnight, you¡¯re awake,¡¯ he said in a low tone. The acoustics of the rock chamber carried his whispers. ¡®You¡¯re late. Come on, it¡¯s the Rocks today.¡¯ He waved furiously, making the splash of fire on the walls shiver.

    The woman drew closer, traversing from the pinprick of light above her bed to the fiery circle around the old man. The walk between was thick with pitch darkness.

    ¡®You overslept, so you missed breakfast,¡¯ the curious old man said as she emerged from the black. ¡®But I saved you some.¡¯ Hops held out a bundle wrapped in dirty cloth. Inside were two things. A mangy cut of meat, bland and stringy. A stale slice of bread, dry and crusty. The usual. Midnight nodded appreciatively.

    She took the items and devoured them. They did not settle the protests in her belly. If anything, they were a stronger reminder of what was lacking.

    Still, Midnight did not speak. She never did. Her voice had gone with her name somewhere in the muddle of the murky darkness. Now she could not find the energy to speak. Tormented words¡ªhow many words, words, words¡ªlonged to be released but they remained shut up. She wanted to thank him, at least. But she could not even do that.

    ¡®Now,¡¯ said the curious old man, watching her with wide, silver eyes the same hue as his thinning hair, ¡®come quick. We don¡¯t have long. There¡¯s a guard waiting.¡¯

    Hops turned and left down the same narrow passageway he had entered through. Midnight followed the silhouette departing in a sphere of fire through the winding corridors, the tunnels and crannies in the depths of the mountain. She had never seen the entire complex of caverns, but they reminded her of a great heart, each tunnel a vein or an artery. That¡¯s where she was. In the heart of the earth. She was a single heartbeat in a barren body.

    The guard was waiting for them as Midnight and Hops joined a central tunnel. The stout man was illuminated by unkind flickers of candlelight. He carried a weapon, a simple sword. The mere sight of it was more than enough to settle any unrest among the workers. Like an actor breaking into a role, Hops straightened his back and evened out his steps around the guard.

    Without signal, the Heartless one approached them, grabbed Midnight by her tunic, and threw her roughly against the wall. Her vision blurred from the slam, but she was denied the mercy of falling. A moment later, the man¡¯s hand clamped her chin, suspending her in her dizzy state.

    ¡®Awake now?¡¯ he taunted, his face mere inches away from hers. Midnight could not focus. Her head swam. The guard looked her up and down hungrily, but decided pushing her to the ground was more fun. ¡®Next time,¡¯ he said as she welcomed the stability of stone below her, ¡®it¡¯ll be more than food you miss out on. Try holding it down when you don¡¯t have a stomach.¡¯

    Midnight rose gracelessly. She squinted through watery eyes and blinked back her pain. This was nothing, she told herself. This was nothing.

    ¡®Now, go get the boy,¡¯ the guard spat. ¡®The bastard won¡¯t stop crying. Make him work or things will go bad for the both of you.¡¯

    That threat usually meant being taken to see the master of the caves. Midnight had never seen him, but she knew what would happen. Those who were abducted never came back. Or if they did, they were no longer themselves. She had once seen a man work mindlessly until his joints had given out and his body failed him after a visit to the master.

    Too scared to contemplate that outcome, she complied with the guard¡¯s request. Once her vision and balance returned to normal, Midnight oriented herself. Hops, who had stood aloof from the incident, now held out a hand and led her toward the place the boy was held.

    The guard made another threat as Midnight and Hops crawled into a space leading to another cave, but she did not pay attention. Her mind was set on finding the boy. Poor Th¨¬r. For someone so young to be brought to a place like this¡­

    Th¨¬r was crying in the dark. She could hear his weeping in the walls before they emerged in his chamber. Hops¡¯ torch spilled firelight into the cramped space and revealed a young boy huddled against the rock. Scrawny and poorly dressed, Th¨¬r held his head in his hands. His hair was an unkempt mop, dirty as a kitchen rag and about as undefined in colour. When he looked up, his satin black eyes were specked with shimmering crystals.

    Poor Th¨¬r. He was the only one with something of a real name in here. The boy always dreamt of things beyond these walls, his imagination fed by the same scraps of story Midnight could remember from others of the world outside.

    ¡®I¡¯m still hungry,¡¯ he said through thick sobs, ¡®and they beat me. I¡¯m not gonna work again! I¡¯m not gonna work!¡¯

    Midnight knelt before the boy. She examined his body, noting fresh welts around his shoulders, elbows, and calves. She wished she had not eaten the morsels Hop saved for her. All she could do now was embrace the boy and restrain his wracking body. She kissed his forehead and took his hand in hers. Slowly, reluctantly, Th¨¬r¡¯s crying softened to a whimper.

    She went through a motion that had comforted the boy in previous years. It was the only way she could communicate. Midnight cupped her hands together over her heart as the boy watched, transfixed and silent now. Then she gingerly released her hands, slowly, slowly, further from her body. She spread them out, keeping her thumbs interlocked, and fluttered her fingers like a butterfly as they groped for the boy¡¯s chest. They landed softly there and the boy broke into a grin. He received Midnight¡¯s motion by cradling her hands over his own heart.

    My heart to yours. We¡¯ll stay together and fly free. How she wished she could say the words.

    ¡®See, now,¡¯ Hops said as he watched, ¡®she¡¯s given you her heart again. Don¡¯t upset Midnight by not doing what you¡¯re told.¡¯

    ¡®I know,¡¯ Th¨¬r said resignedly. ¡®I¡¯m sorry.¡¯

    ¡®Good boy,¡¯ the old man said. ¡®Let¡¯s hurry now. There¡¯s lots to do.¡¯

    Midnight rose holding the boy¡¯s hand and led him back down the passage. She shuddered beneath the guard¡¯s icy gaze as they came out into the main shaft, but held Th¨¬r close by to protect him from whatever retaliation the Heartless had in mind. Fortunately, he did nothing beyond pointing stiffly with his weapon toward the deeper darkness. Toward the Rocks.

    Each day, workers were led to one of two places: the Machines or the Rocks. The Machines was the more pleasant one, if only comparatively so, for the wider space in which they constructed mechanisms was marginally more welcoming and the fact that they could use tools and pulleys to aid their work. The Rocks, on the other hand, was a cramped system of labour tunnels in which they toiled at shaping unwieldy boulders into seated vehicles. None of the workers knew what the function of these strange contraptions was, for none had ever been seen in use around the caves. Each day they laboured with only the most rudimentary of hand tools, shaping and carving and etching and setting stone for unknown purpose. Their shifts at the Rocks rotated between working on those peculiar devices or digging for precious gems and jewels deeper into the earth. It was menial and menacing work.

    As Midnight, Hops, and Th¨¬r were escorted along the length of the main tunnel by the guard, they glimpsed the enormity of the mountain¡¯s hollowness through natural arches in the stone to their left. Whatever force had bored through the cavern rock left windows in its wake, and Midnight could see the tell-tale signs of activity far below. Torches lit up a small portion of the massive space, revealing tall wooden structures set in place amid the rocks. Indistinct figures toiled there like ants before an anthill. The sporadic shouting of guards and cracking of whips rose over the more regular sound of grinding gears and load-bearing ropes¡ªthe lifeblood of operating machinery. Midnight could almost smell the collective sweat of hundreds of overworked men and women.

    But she was going to the Rocks. Being slightly overworked was a luxury there.

    Midnight looked around at her companions. She wondered grimly how much longer the old man could keep up his act before the toll on his body became obvious and the Heartless took decisive action. And as for Th¨¬r¡­ she desperately hoped his stubbornness would not land him in severe trouble.

    The Heartless guard watched them, she knew, through cold and calculating eyes. Uncaring. They were nothing to him. Expendable and nameless slaves.

    Just then, the old man stumbled. The uneven, unforgiving surface they walked on proved too much for Hops and he tumbled to the ground. Midnight¡¯s breath caught in her throat. Before the guard could do anything, she leant over and helped him up. She looked back with apprehension. The guard already had his sword at the ready, but evidently decided against taking any action. Hops thanked Midnight quietly as he was lifted to his feet again.

    ¡®Keep up the pace, witless filth,¡¯ the Heartless growled.

    Soon, the naturally sculpted corridor¡ªunnaturally lit by pale lamplight¡ªwidened and split into several sections. The pace of the group pushed on by the guard slowed as they joined a cue of other workers being led to their daily areas of duty. Ahead, a taskmaster sorted each approaching labourer into divisions. The process moved like clockwork, each person stepping forward, receiving their appointment, and filing out with lifeless precision.

    Once Midnight was through the sorting, she lost track of Hops and Th¨¬r, who were herded toward other sections of the Rocks.

    The countless hours that followed bled into one another, a bland mash of timeless time, indistinguishable from other days. The same labour. The same pain. The same loneliness. The same nothingness.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    All save for one event.

    At some point, when Midnight braved a look around in brief respite from the rock before her, she spotted a curious object not far off. She pretended not to notice, keeping stride and pace in her work lest any unwelcome gazes fall on her. But the thought of that object kept her going through each tiring strike.

    Later, in the bustle of departing workers, she scurried over to where the curiosity was. On the ground, discarded in the dark, was a length of wood, smooth and slightly curved. She felt as if she had seen something like it long ago. Scooping it up as if it were the most precious thing in the world, she examined it. The dark wood shaft was about as long as her arm, and shaped into two even arcs. Near the centre, a strip of leather was tightly wound around it, forming a comfortable grip. At both ends of the curved piece of wood there were grooves inset, as if something was meant to attach to it. Though Midnight did not fully understand what the object in her hands was, she decided in this moment to keep it.

    The seeds of a plan took root in her mind. It was a small sprout of hope.

    She quickly hid the treasure underneath her tunic, trying to shelter it inconspicuously between the loose garments. The walk out of the Rocks was made with bated breath. Midnight expected to be searched, to be punished.

    She made it through.

    Back in the main tunnel, she could not wait for Hops or Th¨¬r. The object in her keeping demanded attention. It had to be put away for safety. Back in her chamber. A million miles away in the dark.

    She hurried on through the darkness, feeling as if peering eyes were all around her. She stepped in rhythm with her heartbeat, an accelerating tap-tap-tap in the silence of the cave.

    Thump. Tap. Thump. Tap. Thump. Tap.

    The distance was maddening, and the intense pressure of carrying her contraband beat down on her harder than all the hardship of the Rocks. The lightless air around her was almost tangible, reaching unseen tendrils to halt her progress. To make her stop. To give her away.

    Midnight kept going.

    As if determined to discover her, the darkness conjured two shapes ahead. Two Heartless, chatting idly and patrolling, were heading her way. They had not seen her yet. In her dismay, Midnight leant up against the wall, trying to blend into the darkness. However, no solid stone was there to meet her frenzied dash. Instead, she kept going into the black, momentarily in freefall. When she collected herself, Midnight realised she must have entered one of the side tunnels. At least here she would be out of the gaze of torches and the path of guards. Not content with her current cover, she retreated further and further into this secluded hole. She could wait here until the danger passed.

    As Midnight backed deeper into this tunnel, she became aware of a faint light and an unfamiliar scent sneaking in somewhere above her. Looking up, she noticed openings in the rock, much like the ones overlooking the Machines but far smaller. Indistinct words carried through these rock-windows. Against wisdom to the contrary, Midnight stood up and craned over furtively to see through the opening.

    She caught glimpse of a chamber lit by evenly distributed torches on brick pillars. She spotted luxuries she did not have: carpets and furniture. What appeared to be a very large table lined the length of the room, and even the meagre foodstuffs set on its surface were a feast that set her mouth watering. Near the back of the hall, a large stone chair was set on a raised platform. A figure occupied this throne but he was too obscured to be properly described. Another man, dressed in attire far fancier than that of normal Heartless, slowly paced before table. A faded blue cloak enveloped him.

    Midnight jumped when someone burst through doors somewhere in the room. The newcomer was evidently outraged, overturning chairs and spilling items from the table to the floor.

    ¡®You¡¯re not in a good mood,¡¯ said the figure in blue, looking in the other man¡¯s direction. Midnight could see the blue-cloaked man properly now. He was tall and well-built, and sported a rather large scythe-like weapon. He had eyes of savage carnelian, almost bloodshot. The rest of his face was masked, but he spoke with a voice like the dark of night.

    ¡®Spare me, Rem,¡¯ said the intruder. Midnight froze. It only took a moment for recognition to settle in. Before she saw the ruffled chestnut hair and that spiteful stride, she recognised the man. His proud, demanding voice was unmistakable.

    He called himself Shurun¡¯el.

    A panicked breath escaped Midnight¡¯s lips. She cowered deeper into shadow and clutched the object desperately. She hated that man. She hated the way he touched her, the way his breath brushed against her neck. She hated him.

    ¡®What the hell happened to you?¡¯ the man called Rem asked.

    ¡®Doesn¡¯t matter,¡¯ Shurun¡¯el said, ¡®I¡¯m not here to talk to you.¡¯

    Midnight dared to look again and saw the hated man draw neared to the throne.

    ¡®My lord,¡¯ he remarked, ¡®I saw him. His heart is ripe for moulding. I believe it¡¯s time.¡¯

    Their conversation resounded across the length of the cave. It did not matter should any slave be within earshot, Midnight realised. For what good would the information they are privy to be to them?

    ¡®And yet you failed.¡¯ Whoever had spoken was clearly in command. His booming voice burrowed through Midnight. It quaked somewhere deep inside her. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to be elsewhere, far away. Even though the enthroned figure was concealed by shadow, Midnight could feel his terrible countenance.

    ¡®What you believe is of no concern to me,¡¯ the commander continued. ¡®What you can do is another matter.¡¯

    ¡®It was not my fault,¡¯ Shurun¡¯el said apologetically, fear lacing his voice. ¡®He was helped. That red-headed wench¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Ah, the Seastrider¡¯s mistake. Did I not say his oversight will cause problems in the future?¡¯

    ¡®Well, given her state I don¡¯t think she¡¯ll be a real problem.¡¯

    ¡®And yet,¡¯ Rem chimed, ¡®look what she did to your face.¡¯

    Shurun¡¯el growled. ¡®That wasn¡¯t her, it was¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Oh, someone other than an Amarant did that to the mighty Shurun¡¯el? If I were you, I¡¯d have stuck with that story and saved whatever pride you have left.¡¯

    ¡®Why doesn¡¯t the maggot leave this cocoon and prove himself, then?¡¯ Shurun¡¯el snarled.

    ¡®Remeriel! Shurun¡¯el!¡¯ the man on the throne roared, and his voice was like an earthquake, harder to bear than all the weight of the mountain. His interruption promptly ended the squabble of the two underlings, who dropped to their knees in reflex. ¡®No matter. This will not be a major setback, I presume.¡¯

    ¡®Not at all,¡¯ Shurun¡¯el said, not daring to raise his head.

    ¡®Everything else runs according to plan,¡¯ Remeriel supplied. ¡®Production is steady.¡¯

    ¡®Enh¨¥,¡¯ the throned man said. ¡®Good. Shurun¡¯el, you will be outfitted with a new squad. Your coming alone signals to me that less than happy circumstances have befallen them.¡¯ To this Shurun¡¯el said nothing. ¡®Do not disappoint me again.¡¯ Having said this, the figure stood up, stepped off the platform, and came into the light.

    The woman recoiled. She fell backwards into the comfort of darkness. She could not process who¡ªor what¡ªshe had seen. The figure in command was¡­ she did not know what he was. But she knew she needed to be away from here, away from him. Was that the master of the caves? She did not want to find out.

    Midnight retraced her steps with her breath held close and her object closer. With all the speed she could muster in noiselessness, she darted back out to the main tunnel, almost too careless to check if other guards were making rounds.

    She completed the trek to her little corner of the mountain without incident. The shadows did not betray her. The silence did not reject her. She returned to her chamber sweaty and sweltering, perhaps more so from the exhilaration of extracting the treasure or the shock of the enthroned Heartless than the labour at the Rocks. She relaxed as much as she could with all this dark distance between her and that man. Still, there was that dreadful voice. And his face¡­

    She occupied herself with the task at hand. She counted ten moments of silence, until she was sure of absolute loneliness and the only sounds were the pounding of her heart. Only then did she draw out the wooden object from beneath her clothes. Admiring it one last time, she covered it with a discarded strip of cloth and nestled it in the nook of a nearby wall. Safe in the dark at last.

    The day would then end as most did, with a trip to the Pools, a bathing square with natural springs. Though it was the most bearable place in the mountain, even there proceedings were strictly regimented. Even there she could be watched.

    When Midnight arrived, the natural steam produced by the clean, warm water made her feel the grime with renewed awareness, like cogs bogged down with grease. Other women were already making use of the pools. Midnight breathed a relieved sigh when she noticed the absence of guards on duty.

    All she took was a single step into the water. Before she could savour the warmth creeping pleasantly into her legs, someone entered behind her. She did not need to turn to see who it was. The quiet gasps that erupted out of the other women told her everything.

    ¡®Hello, lovely,¡¯ Shurun¡¯el said. Midnight shuddered at the playful poison in his tone. ¡®Everyone else, get out. Get out!¡¯ he bellowed again when his command was met with the slightest reluctance. The others vacated the pools in a hurry, leaving behind strewn items and articles of clothing.

    He grabbed her hand and turned her around forcefully. The dreamlike water reflections thrown against the stone did nothing to soften Shurun¡¯el cruel appearance. And it was only now that Midnight saw what Remeriel had teased in that clandestine meeting. The right side of Shurun¡¯el¡¯s face was shrivelled and disfigured, barely settled into fresh scars. But the wound was only cold satisfaction. It would not stop him.

    ¡®Bathe,¡¯ he said. ¡®Quick. I¡¯ll be watching.¡¯ There was no patience or kindness in his voice. His one eye was filled with lust and rage. She knew what he wanted next.

    But she would not make a sound. Not for him. Not for anyone.

    It was another day in silent darkness.

    * * *

    A wan sky withered above the world¡¯s end. Sheneh-Adrani, a ring of three islands overlooking a distant ocean, was wreathed in grey. The surrounding seas mimicked the dullness of the clouds.

    And in this ghostly light, an assassin walked among roses.

    The rose beds were the only colour in a world being slowly abandoned by the sun. They kept their brilliance even in this colourless dusk. Crimson, like a memory of blood. The flower fields were the sole remarkable feature of Amarea, Beorosa, and Celenda, a triplet of triangular isles tucked away in the far northern corner of the Western Sea. They comprised the beating heart of Despreaux¡¯s Domain, far beyond the reach of the cartographer¡¯s inquisitive hand, where the known map kissed the edge of the abyss. The islands would have looked idyllic had it not been for the grey weather, frequent storms, and other dangers lurking in their waters.

    These things did not concern Umariel now.

    He paced the flowered steppes, glad to be on land again after weeks out at sea. He was headed to the beach. From there he could observe the water without fear of being swallowed by its jaws. But even as Umariel passed the rocky ridges leading to the beachfront and even as he stepped on familiar sand and took in the scenery, he could not relax. His mind was still engaged. He knew the place by heart. Twelve positions of concealment. Six vulnerable locations. Three vantage points.

    Zero places of serenity and comfort.

    He gripped the daggers by his belt a little tighter. The snakeskin handles fit him perfectly. These blades were his serenity, his comfort. Purity and Peace. Things that he would never know.

    He had received these daggers the day after Luneder burned. Umariel closed his eyes and wrapped the cloak closer around himself, a shield against the wind. He was taken back to that day¡­

    Umar was kneeling in a dark room before a man whose eyes seemed to harbour fire long after the last smoulders of Luneder had given out.

    ¡®This day you prove yourself, Umar,¡¯ his lord said. ¡®You are an accelerating force. You bring all things to their destination. Do you understand?¡¯

    ¡®I do.¡¯ As he spoke the words, Umar pushed the faces of those he had ended in that town out of his memory. The mothers, the fathers, the watchers, the workers.

    The pirate captain retrieved a weapon case swathed in felt. Clicking it open, he produced two daggers. Pommel to tip, they were works of art. Winter-grey blades engraved with serpentine motifs were embedded to black handles. Their edges glinted in the weak light.

    ¡®Take them.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you, my lord.¡¯ Umar reached for them, gripping the twin blades reverently. They were almost weightless, yet emanated a quiet, heavy force.

    ¡®Tools for the task. You are shadow. You feed on the light. There can be no doubt now. Do you accept your new name and calling, Umariel?¡¯

    ¡®Yes, Lord Despreaux.¡¯

    A rustle stunned him back to the present. Twelve years passed in a blink. Umariel turned expertly and flashed his daggers at an approaching figure. Head to toe, the assassin was poised to kill.

    ¡®Sorry, m¡¯lord. Didn¡¯t mean t¡¯scare ya like that.¡¯

    It was only Kest. Umariel lowered his weapons and his guard. As he appraised the man standing before him, Umariel remembered that Kest, too, had been there that day. The years had not been kind to the pirate. Kest¡¯s girth tested the limits of his leather overalls. His face was pocked with impurities and his nose was more crooked than a shipwreck¡¯s mast. His remaining hair grew in patchy tufts of oily brown.

    ¡®What do you want, Kest?¡¯ As he put away the blades, colour returned to Kest¡¯s face and his eyes reverted to a normal size.

    ¡®Jus¡¯ lettin¡¯ you know that with our lord out, yer in charge tonight.¡¯

    ¡®Ah.¡¯

    ¡®We might wan¡¯ t¡¯celebrate, y¡¯know? With things goin¡¯ so well in Kerena an¡¯ all.¡¯

    Kerena. Yes. The chaos they had caused in that land would have created a stir by now. Another speck of starlight snuffed. Another piece of the song torn.

    ¡®I¡¯ll think about it, Kest.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you, m¡¯lord.¡¯

    ¡®Have you seen Fr¨¬ri?l?¡¯

    ¡®I fancy she¡¯s out feedin¡¯ those beasties. If you needed me for somethin¡¯ I¡¯d be happy to oblige but I ain¡¯t goin¡¯ near th¡¯ bloody things. I ain¡¯t losin¡¯ ¡®nother leg.¡¯

    ¡®Of course. I¡¯ll see you and the rest tonight.¡¯

    Kest bowed awkwardly and then lurched off back toward Fort Amarea, a weathered mass of mossy stone. The man had accustomed himself to walking with the unnatural clank of a wooden leg.

    Umariel walked on. The breeze picked up, and the shivering rose beds soon gave way to endless mounds of sand and wind-tossed waves. And there, suspended by the seaside, a wooden pier dared out over the chaos of the waters.

    It was here that Umariel realised he was wrong on two counts. There was colour elsewhere. And there was a place of peace. There was her.

    Fr¨¬ri?l darted around the pier, her eyes on the water and rusty bucket in hand. He did not want to guess what sloshed inside, whatever she was using to bait the beasts she affectionately treated as pets. She was eccentric. But considering what she had been through, he could not blame her. Even so, there was no one whom Umariel felt closer to.

    When he drew nearer, her features captured him like the dawn of a new day. Small and slender, Fr¨¬ri?l donned a billowing cloak that moved like fire in the wind. It was black on the inside as though singed and blood-red on the outside. Her lengthy sanguine-red hair blew wildly about her gentle face. She focused on the seas with gleaming brown eyes of chrysanth-stone, and when she called for ¡®Tiama¡¯ her voice was clear and warm as the rising sun.

    Umariel halted. He had to remind himself. This girl was dread and death. But he could not deny that she was beautiful.

    He took his first steps onto the wooden planks of the pier, distracting himself with a small woodcarving in his pocket. He drew out the small spinning top and twirled it between his fingers.

    Fr¨¬ri?l turned to face him. She was a patch of bright against the grey.

    ¡®What do you have there?¡¯ she asked.

    Umariel smiled. ¡®You¡¯ll have to come and see, Riri.¡¯

    Just then, there was a movement beneath the waves. Something broke the surface and bobbed underneath as quickly as it had come. Umariel caught glimpses of spines, scales, and fins. Something large. Far larger than any fish or sea serpent. A guardian of Sheneh-Adrani.

    ¡®There you are, Tiama!¡¯ Fr¨¬ri?l exclaimed, her attention temporarily averted from Umariel¡¯s toy. She leaned over the right side of the pier and dumped the contents of the bucket into the sea. Various chunks of meat splashed into the murky water. A shadowed shape converged upon the meal and dragged it under.

    Fr¨¬ri?l placed the bucket on the wood and walked over to where Umariel performed feats of sleight-of-hand and other curiosities with the spinning top.

    ¡®Show me what you have!¡¯ Fr¨¬ri?l demanded, but her voice was curious, almost childish.

    ¡®Catch, Riri,¡¯ he said as the top sailed toward her.

    She did so, but something else was on her mind as she tromped over.

    ¡®Don¡¯t call me that,¡¯ she protested, pounding Umariel lightly. ¡®I¡¯m not a girl anymore. I¡¯ll have Tiama eat you!¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯re right,¡¯ Umariel said with a laugh. ¡®What should I call you, then?¡¯

    She thought for a moment. ¡®Princess Fr¨¬ri?l of Sheneh-Adrani, Tamer of Seas and Serpents.¡¯ She grinned proudly.

    ¡®That¡¯s it?¡¯

    ¡®It sounds royal, doesn¡¯t it?¡¯

    ¡®It¡¯s boring.¡¯

    ¡®Whatever, Umariel,¡¯ she said, pouting.

    ¡®If you would grace me with my full title, please. You shall address me as Umariel the Unmarred, Lord of Shadows and Conqueror of the Twilight Ocean, Heir of the Roselands and Foremost of the Seven.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s grand.¡¯

    ¡®I thought so.¡¯

    ¡®I was kidding. It¡¯s silly. As silly as your little toy.¡¯

    ¡®Oh. That¡¯s not nice, Riri.¡¯

    She stomped her foot. ¡®Fine. I¡¯m not a royal, and you¡¯re not a¡­ whatever you called yourself.¡¯

    ¡®What are we, then?¡¯

    Riri pondered for a while. ¡®We are fire and shadow.¡¯

    ¡®I like that.¡¯

    ¡®It means that you follow wherever I go.¡¯

    ¡®Well, you can only appreciate the shadows where there is a bright fire.¡¯

    ¡®When one dies, the other does also.¡¯

    Umariel looked at her, but she only smiled. Then she squeezed his arm jovially and placed her head on his shoulder. He could almost feel the flame of her presence. In the distance, clotted clouds were arguing. Soon, the results of their altercation would rain down on their hapless islands. But he did not care. Not now.

    ¡®I don¡¯t see the Moonbreaker, Riri.¡¯

    ¡®Lord Despreaux¡¯s taken it out again. He loves this weather.¡¯

    Umariel grunted noncommittally.

    ¡®But I think there¡¯s more to it,¡¯ she said. ¡®He seems troubled and restless to me. I don¡¯t know what bothers him.¡¯

    ¡®Well, with such a great task ahead, I would be as well.¡¯

    Curtains of tender rain came down, as if the grey above collapsed in great veils of water. And like the ceaseless rain, the songs of starlight were vivid in Umariel¡¯s mind, scraping constantly. But they would break these songs. They would prove them wrong.

    ¡®There¡¯s a storm coming,¡¯ she said, leaning closer and closing her eyes.

    ¡®Yes, there is.¡¯

    No, Fr¨¬ri?l was no longer a girl. Yet Umariel was afraid. Of her. Of what would happen when the songs ended. Of everything. He snuck a trembling hand around her and pulled her in.

    He was closer to the fire.

    They stood there on that pier, swaddled in a rainstorm that could not drown their flame, and watched the end of the world.

    * * *

    Sanah¡¯?l hated days like these. Days when she felt out of place. When the oppressive opulence around her reminded her she was second rate. She ignored the fixtures of her room. Today she did not want to be here. She wanted to run. She picked up her closest companions, her weapons. A shortsword and a shield decorated with an avian crest. She threw a worn brown cloak over her form¡ªneither sensual nor fearsome, she reflected¡ªand Sanah¡¯?l was out the door.

    A note lay scrunched and discarded in the corner of her room. A message informing her of Shurun¡¯el¡¯s attempt and failure.

    She ignored that as well.

    Sanah¡¯?l walked down elaborate staircases and into the star-like light of a great hall where everything was golden. But there was no music to wind its way through the hanging chandeliers. No dance graced its crystalline floors.

    There was only weeping.

    Lady Isila wept with the weight of what was about to happen. She howled like an autumn wind. Her golden face was drenched in bitter tears. Her voice carried through the empty hall. As hollow as the endless night peeking in through the stained-glass windows.

    ¡®My lady,¡¯ Sanah¡¯?l said as she approached and kneeled before the winged throne.

    ¡®Soon he will come here,¡¯ lady Isila sobbed, seemingly disregarding Sanah¡¯?l¡¯s presence as if in a trance. ¡®And he will know. He will know.¡¯

    ¡®I will ensure things still go according to plan.¡¯

    ¡®That is what scares me, child,¡¯ lady Isila said, suddenly lucid. Her eyes were a mess of tears and make up. ¡®But go.¡¯

    Sanah¡¯?l kissed her lady¡¯s hand and rose. She faced the great doors leading to the outside. An old, old story was carved on these gates, a story on which she would not dwell now.

    ¡®So, you¡¯ve heard that your brother screwed up,¡¯ someone said. The voice cut the air like sharpened steel. ¡®Looks like failure runs in the family.¡¯

    Rubi?l. The last person she wanted to see today. Sanah¡¯?l kept her composure as she spun to face the woman leaning casually against one of the hall¡¯s pillars. Rubi?l was accosting her with those perfect eyes of piercing sapphire, a flawless complement to her jet black hair which fell in immaculate waves. Tall and lithe, and often snugged in tight leather, Rubi?l drew the gazes of every man around and held them long after she disappeared from sight.

    Compared to her, Sanah¡¯?l was plain. Average in every way.

    ¡®I don¡¯t need this right now, Rubi.¡¯

    ¡®So what, you think you can just go out and make amends? Do you always cover for his mistakes?¡¯ she said in a dangerous tone. She was not only beautiful, but deadly. An ornate rapier hung loosely at her side. Even in swordplay, Rubi outmatched her.

    ¡®I¡¯m looking out for the interests of the Order!¡¯

    ¡®Am I supposed to be impressed by your altruism? Please, like we don¡¯t have many cards left to play.¡¯

    ¡®Maybe I choose to play mine now.¡¯

    ¡®If you¡¯re going out just to see¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Drop it!¡¯ Sanah¡¯?l screamed and burst through the gates into the outside. She stomped through the outer courtyard, past the Lord¡¯s Tower¡ªa building of bizarre purpose, for the lord was often not around¡ªand on toward the landing platform.

    She would not deal with that woman today. Rubi was a constant thorn in her side, so Sanah¡¯?l relished days when she could go out on missions. Often she would do it for the satisfaction of being away from here.

    Was this it? Was this her new world? Was this better? The panged memories of begging and crying and starving told her that it was.

    She trudged on, stepping up to the pedestal where her chariot waited. The rock-chariot was a curious thing. No horse pulled this contraption. Precise holes were bored out of the surface and precious gems of all cuts and colours were set all along its outer rim.

    Sanah¡¯?l climbed in. She stared out into the cloudless night. Here, miles above the world of men, the scars within the sky were far more vibrant. Every star was a diamond cut with the skill of a celestial lapidary.

    But she was not going up. The fear always got to her. The plunge terrified her. She chastised herself. She should not be scared. After all, Rubi never was. And he had gone out already. Taking a deep breath, Sanah¡¯?l stilled herself. She sang a rhyme that never failed to comfort.

    It flows alight through living stone

    In not just flesh and fragile bone

    If trust you give and true you stay

    The wind will take you home

    Her voice was carried by the air currents, and then she pushed. The stone hummed to life. She took off into the night, falling through the sky in an exhilarating descent. Falling, falling toward a land whose dying breath signalled its last days. She could still hear lady Isila¡¯s wailing.

 Chapter Fourteen - This Rising Hope

    The dream was a welcome one, like the touch of a summer wind or the kiss of evening coolness. The setting was a familiar room, its scents closer than air, its colours more a part of it than skin or bone. Then the dream spoke. And it spoke with a voice more pleasant than music.

    ¡®This ship sails on a sea of stars,¡¯ said Thalassia. Asphales was eight again and he looked up to see his mother. Her silver strands contoured a gentle face focused on the page. Her tender hands traced lines across the book in her lap. But Asphales could not take his eyes off her. Some deep part of him, in another place, another world, reached out to her. But that touch met only a paralysing barrier. He knew he could only observe.

    ¡®Asphales, are you paying attention?¡¯

    ¡®Yes! Sorry, mother,¡¯ he said. He was glad to hear her talk. ¡®But I don¡¯t get it! It doesn¡¯t make sense.¡¯ Asphales bemoaned his lack of imagination, and the deep part of him, the part that looked on, could not help but stifle a laugh.

    ¡®It will come to you as you learn more stories,¡¯ Thalassia said. There was no impatience in her voice. Her eyes, bright and pure amethysts, looked on him with love. ¡®When you gaze up,¡¯ she continued, ¡®you see all those who have passed on, those whose stories proved worthy. You see those who even now would lend their strength.¡¯

    ¡®I don¡¯t understand. What do you mean?¡¯

    Her mouth moved but no sound came.

    A ringing deafness swallowed all. And then the room became more distant. Its colours and its welcome song faded. He begged and prayed that this moment would not slip away from him. He wanted to be in this place with her for a second more. His petitions were met with uncaring silence.

    There was a shift in scene, like everything was plunged in the deep. Like a soundless ocean had swallowed all the earth in its tidal maws.

    Grey.

    Asphales was on that endless sea of grey again.

    Give her back, he pleaded. Give her back. I want to see her again.

    For one terse moment, he thought that perhaps the room would return with its starlight-warmth. He thought that perhaps he would see Thalassia¡¯s face once more.

    Instead, he sank beneath the waves.

    No, she is not here, he reminded himself as he fell. She is still out there.

    The void rushed past him in a measureless, featureless riot. His only companion was there, always there. Falling, chasing, pursuing, leading. He could feel the blast of its wings, the storm of its breath.

    Asphales felt weak, as if the merest touch of this beast would shatter him like frail glass. He feared its touch more than any impact from the fall. He kept his eyes closed, as if he could shut out the dragon¡¯s terrible visage. But still its gaze found him.

    The crash came without warning, without pain.

    Asphales found himself before that gargantuan gate again. An abyssal portal stood supported by immense and ageless pillars. Four broken sigils, four fractured chains lay strewn around it.

    Then out came one in shapes of shadow. It was undeniably a man, and yet somewhat formless, wreathed and writhing in blackened tendrils. The beast came to rest beside him like an obedient pet. Even in the bleary opacity of this state, it was clear that the figure was bound to the gate, as if some energy was drawing him back toward it. As if he was fighting the pull of a mystic force.

    ¡®Arnath¡¯e Anarah? Th¨¦nel il Rinulm¨¬r,¡¯ the man said. Asphales cowered before him. His voice was the shadow, the dark. The figure reached a hand toward Asphales, and even from a distance the man¡¯s grip was winter, cold and heartless. A sword coalesced in the figure¡¯s hands, a dreadful blade that emanated intense pressure. Asphales felt the deep crush him. Above all, in that moment he wanted to shut the screaming in his head.

    Suddenly, he snapped awake. Asphales woke with lungs heavy from imaginary dread and water, and a deathly chill gnawed at his chest. He was twisted among his sheets. They grabbed at him, desiring to pull him back into that dream. Outside it was still night. Dawn¡¯s inviting embrace seemed far away. The moon peered through his windows and the gentle crash of waves far below carried on unaware.

    Asphales breathed. The enveloping calm chased away the phantoms. Why is this happening? What am I seeing in my dreams? But more than the terrors haunting his sleep, the absence of his mother was a thing to be felt this night. As real and yet as intangible as the glow of moonlight. Though he had no idea what the hour was, he lay in bed as the senseless minutes passed and the loud, troubled thoughts swirled.

    Asphales rose. He had to leave the confines of this chamber. No strength had come from the stars tonight and he did not want to face those dreams again. His father¡¯s sword, swaddled in its sheath and resting nearby, provided no comfort, either. He could still hear the whisper of the shadowed man¡¯s voice. So, moments later, he was dressed and ready to head out into the silence.

    His door creaked open and he snuck into the eerie blue of the night-washed hallway. He made his way along the windows overlooking a sleeping castle and slipped down into the main foyer. The usually lively receiving area of the Hall now rested in a dark slumber. A few tireless servants minded their own business, seeming to pay no heed to Asphales¡¯ scampering nor to the lateness of the hour. What if he ran into Ithil¨¬r? Asphales¡¯ mind played out a terrifying scenario in which his stealthy mission was discovered by the master-servant¡¯s severity. He had already aggravated the poor man enough tonight. Asphales chuckled and walked on toward the exit.

    The clear sky and crisp breeze outside were pleasant changes. The scenery was quieter also. With most of the lights around the courtyard snuffed, Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s immensity was dwarfed by the night above. The castle¡¯s grey blocks reached up into an expanse dotted with glimmering lights. He wandered on, eyes gazing upwards into the sidereal depths, without much focus as to where he was going. Asphales was happy enough to be out and about, happy enough to feel the solid ground beneath his feet and the cool air of a world away from his suffocating nightmares.

    He could not remember exactly when the dreams started, only that they began to intensify in recent years. What were once hazy visions of mist and shadow had gained unsettling clarity. Until now, Asphales had never been aware of their significance. He never fathomed they would be connected to the story and the struggle he now found himself amidst. He wondered if and when the pieces would all fall into place. He wondered whether he would see his mother again. She is out there. I know it.

    His midnight walk took him around the outskirts of the Hall of the Elders until he edged the palace gardens. He grew calmer. The silence deepened in the dead of night, in the cold, small hours when the world sleeps. He was ready to head back, relieved of his nightmares¡¯ malignance. But then and there, Asphales stopped in his tracks. For that is when he saw her. He saw Ad¨¦lia Amal¡¯ethar, the knight among the flowers, walking in the gardens. He saw a dance of scarlet and emerald swaying beneath the blackened shroud of a starlit canopy.

    * * *

    The gardens slept under the lullaby of moonlight. Reds and violets, yellows and blues, all faded for the night. Their garish, playful performance stopped, stowed away until the rising sun would rouse them once more.

    Yet here among them, Ad¨¦lia was a flower undreaming. She stepped by the dozing plants like a watchful guardian, dressed in the same pale colours. The palace gardens were not so wild and free like the vast fields surrounding her home in Gohenur, but they were a piece of what she knew. A token, a delicate memento of the things that brought her peace.

    A reminder of better times before the cruelty of fire.

    But even her enjoyment and delight in flowers, her admiration of these colourful snippets of life, was marred by an ever-present, static black. All the things that would stir and move within her spirit were halted by a pulsing darkness constricting her from the inside. It had been so ever since that day. She had been like a tree that would not grow, dead to sunlight. Like a heavy stone sinking to the depths while the river rushed past.

    Becoming an Amarant and gaining strength had not helped solve the problem at her core. It did not change the fact that Ad¨¦lia was very wrong. She was askew. Perhaps nothing could fix that. Perhaps nothing could mend the painful yearning of her heart.

    ¡®Ad¨¦lia?¡¯ someone called out. ¡®What are you doing here?¡¯

    She jumped, startled from her thoughts. She had not expected to hear that name on the lips of another. The voice was familiar. It was like a burst of light intruding into the dark rhythm of her song. She spun only to see the boy with eyes of jasper staring back at her.

    ¡®Hello, Asphales,¡¯ she said, releasing her hold on a clump of purple tulips. ¡®Isn¡¯t it a bit late to be exploring the castle?¡¯

    Asphales smiled and stepped closer. Memories of their meeting in the forest flooded back. Everything she had felt at that time was in disarray. Even Asphales himself had looked different then. Scared, confused. So lost. And though now he still seemed to walk with a deep uncertainty clouding about him, Asphales appeared more confident also. His face was bright and seemly, and his deep brown locks no longer looked like shelter behind which he would retreat. Some new purpose had changed Asphales Es¨¦linor.

    ¡®I guess it is,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®I would love to keep looking around. I¡¯ve only been here for a day but I don¡¯t feel like I¡¯ve seen enough yet.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m sure. Do you like these gardens?¡¯

    ¡®They are beautiful,¡¯ Asphales said as he looked around. ¡®Do you take care of them yourself?¡¯

    ¡®When I am able to. I enjoy spending time here because it reminds me of Gohenur. What brings you to the gardens?¡¯

    ¡®I couldn¡¯t sleep,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®What hour is it?¡¯

    ¡®It is nearly third watch. Windsell, if you¡¯ve forgotten.¡¯

    Asphales rubbed his eyes, as if lack of tiredness was not what had been keeping him awake. She sensed an unspoken weight behind his words.

    ¡®You know,¡¯ she began lightly, ¡®you can¡¯t always come to me when you need to find out the time.¡¯ Asphales laughed. His voice resonated in the night. Something just shy of a smile tugged at her mouth. It was all she could muster.

    ¡®You¡¯re right. This is not the first time I¡¯ve had to ask you. For the second time I find myself in your debt.¡¯

    ¡®That which is freely given garners no debt,¡¯ said Ad¨¦lia.

    ¡®And the pleasure of companionship absolves all that is owed,¡¯ Asphales finished, quoting Al¡¯ur the Wise.

    ¡®Good, you remember that story.¡¯

    ¡®Of course,¡¯ Asphales said proudly. ¡®But truly, it¡¯s thanks to you that I¡¯m here. I never would¡¯ve made it to Fara¡¯ethar without you.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia curtsied, accepting his gratitude. ¡®Still,¡¯ she said, ¡®I was not aware of what part you and Valinos were playing in this. It took me by surprise when I found out.¡¯

    ¡®Believe me, none more so than myself. I discovered many incredible things about me. And about you.¡¯ Asphales¡¯ eyes landed on her fiercely. They were dipped in earthen colours, Ad¨¦lia realised, but the energy behind them betrayed his true affinity. Restless like the sea. Is that why she had been afraid to capture them in paint? Or was it her inability to truly contain his vitality?

    ¡®Oh?¡¯ she asked. ¡®How much do you know?¡¯

    ¡®For a start, I worked out that you are Lady Catena, Amarant of Fara¡¯ethar.¡¯ He sounded both incredulous and awestruck.

    ¡®Yes, I am she.¡¯ Catena. A shield to hide behind. A wall to screen out sorrow. A decoy to divert attention from her true nature.

    ¡®The company we travelled with spoke about the Amarants. Captain Ledner especially held them in high regard. And after running into you I can see why. You made quick work of those bandits, but I only put things together later.¡¯

    ¡®You seem duly impressed by them yourself, Asphales.¡¯

    ¡®Well, yes.¡¯ He paused and the night¡¯s silence quickly filled the gaps for a few ticking moments. She knew what he would ask. ¡®Look,¡¯ he began, ¡®I don¡¯t know why you have taken on a different name here. I don¡¯t know why you gave me yours. I don¡¯t know all you¡¯ve been through and I don¡¯t expect you to speak of it. But there¡¯s something I need to tell you, Ad¨¦lia. I know what you are, for we are much alike.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia drew closer to him apprehensively. This was not what she expected. Yet before he even formed the words, something stirred within her. Some part of her protested and raged, threatening to engulf her in that dark pain if she even entertained the connection she felt with this man, a link that made itself known upon their first meeting.

    ¡®We are children of starlight,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®Children of the Elders.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia gasped. For a terrifying instant, Ad¨¦lia felt shorn of her protection, the secrets she wrapped around herself like armour torn and exposed. ¡®So you knew.¡¯

    Asphales nodded.

    ¡®You are right,¡¯ she said quietly. ¡®Menkalinan was my father.¡¯

    ¡®I am Hadar¡¯s heir. I don¡¯t know what that means exactly, but I find myself thrown into something huge.¡¯ Asphales paused, seeming to brace himself for what he would say next. ¡®I think we both have to prepare for this. The stories we know and love are more than stories. They¡¯re coming true and unless we¡¯re both ready, the world will fall.¡¯

    ¡®Yes. I grew up knowing the truth of those stories. But like you, I did not suspect I would find myself in them.¡¯

    ¡®I didn¡¯t have that privilege,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®After I lost my parents, none around me believed. It was only when I arrived here that those tales were vindicated. It was Amaleron who told me of these things. He spoke of you also. That¡¯s why I felt I needed to approach you. You probably know more about what being an Elderchild entails.¡¯

    ¡®So this is what Amaleron¡¯s mission was about. Yes, it was Amaleron who found me years ago. He¡¯s always known who I am. And now two children of starlight are gathered. It seems the world stands at a turning point. We¡¯ve both been beset by hardship. Perhaps such is the lot of an Elderchild, Asphales. The two of us have suffered and lost much. But now, I am so glad you are here with me.¡¯

    ¡®Ad¨¦lia, I¡¯m willing to find out what this means for us. If the evil of the past is threatening to rise, I¡¯m determined to stand against it. I know I am weak. I don¡¯t have the strength or courage of an Amarant. I need you to fight with me.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find you are courageous in your own way. You pushed through and made it here.¡¯

    ¡®I did not do it alone. Valinos is with me. And even though he does not know his role in this yet, he also will stand by me.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, I met him earlier. He seems to be doing better. Who is he, truly? Is he also a¡ª¡¯

    ¡®He is my closest friend. And he may not be like us, but he¡¯s also left behind a life of hardship. He now seeks answers. Whatever awaits his search, Valinos has bound himself to this quest. I can ask no more of him. So I will also help him in whatever way I can.¡¯

    ¡®I knew there was something different about you, Asphales,¡¯ she said. Ad¨¦lia watched him, absorbing the quiet intensity of his eyes, the gentle passion on his face. ¡®You earnestly care for those around you and you don¡¯t expect more than they can give. Thank you. That means more than you know.¡¯

    Asphales blushed. ¡®Perhaps I am overstepping in my request,¡¯ he said, and his shyness made him appear to shrink. ¡®We barely know each other, and yet such a great deal will soon be asked of us.¡¯

    ¡®No, Asphales. Think nothing of it. It would be my honour to fight beside you. We¡¯ll have the full might of Fara¡¯ethar behind us in this.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m grateful for that. I do hope it will be enough.¡¯ Asphales shook his head. ¡®I can¡¯t even fathom what we¡¯re up against.¡¯

    ¡®Well, we are holding council in just a few hours. Hopefully, with all the recent happenings, things will become clearer then. Now, I would love to continue but I do believe we should be getting some sleep in preparation for it.¡¯

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ Asphales said, then smirked. ¡®In the future I¡¯ll try to shift our meetings to a more agreeable time. Anyway, I should get back. I don¡¯t want to imagine what will happen if Ithil¨¬r finds me.¡¯

    ¡®The master-servant? He¡¯s harmless.¡¯

    ¡®Maybe for those who are nice to him. I fear I¡¯ve transgressed the standard of etiquette he¡¯s looking for.¡¯

    ¡®Asphales Es¨¦linor, child of starlight and hero poised to rescue the world, scared off by Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s attendant.¡¯

    Asphales gave her a deflated smile.

    ¡®Good night, Asphales,¡¯ she said, then held up three fingers. ¡®Starlight guide us.¡¯

    ¡®Starlight guide us,¡¯ Asphales repeated, mimicking the sign somewhat awkwardly. The boy with jasper eyes¡ªno, for he was far more now, a man entwined in starlight¡ªmade off toward the Hall of Residence. She watched him disappear in the dimness of the night¡¯s fog.

    Asphales Es¨¦linor, the son of starlight. One who knew her. Ad¨¦lia¡¯s heart careened in shock and surprise. Yet this was also comforting. She felt as if two things had fallen into place, exactly where they ought to be. As if two discordant strings finally played in tune. What would await her¡ªand him also¡ªfrom here on?

    Ad¨¦lia left her sleeping gardens to the stars¡¯ care and walked toward her Amarant¡¯s quarters. This was not her forest or her home, she knew. She was far from the safety and comfort of Gohenur. And still, there was something in Asphales which brought her peace.

    Then the gaping darkness took hold. An all too familiar pain shot through her. She had made herself too vulnerable, peeling back the layers of her heart. But still, so many things remained hidden to him. What would happen should they come to light?

    Ad¨¦lia could not mention how afraid she had been for many years, in the loneliness and confusion that followed the disaster of Luneder. She could not mention how haunted she had been by the phantom who claimed her family and her home, and robbed her of the very force of life. She could not speak of the hate which often consumed her.

    For even now she could not escape the barrage of dreams. This undreaming flower was steeped in nightmares. She was swallowed by visions in which forest trees turned to vicious waves and swamped her as she ran. They dragged her off to the depths, and in the cold and dark she always saw the pirate¡¯s face and heard his mocking laughter. His voice, heavier than the tide, followed incessantly. But there was not even a name to focus her distress and anger. There was no trace of the demon which destroyed her childhood. There was only the lingering sorrow, constant and all-encompassing as the rain.

    One thing Ad¨¦lia knew. She had been allowed to live. Now, she would use her life to end his. For Menkalinan. For Cassia. For Luneder.

    * * *

    The light broke overhead, washing away the last sign of fading stars. A bloody sunrise announced another day, betraying it and concealing its true burdens with deceptive, playful rays. The rising fire caught Amarant Darius on the beach of the Barracks district, already deep into his training. Warm with sweat and effort, the man did not welcome the morning.

    Darius continued. His scarred body complained with every exercise. His weary muscles tried to hinder every swing and thrust. His thoughts turned traitorous and whispered failure. But in the end, both body and mind obeyed. Everything surrendered to the call of the awry fire within him and the cold will of his blade, Blackfrost.

    Yes, both would be sated soon enough.

    With recent events occurring as they had, Darius wondered whether the time had come. Though not all the puzzle pieces were in place, the renewed activity of the Order and the reappearance of the pirate phantom indicated change and acceleration in the enemy¡¯s plans. Darius thought of Lady Catena¡¯s connection with that menace. He had not summoned the courage to tell her of his return. She would find out very soon either way.

    But the arrival of the visitors from Silnod¨¬r proved to be the most disturbing development. Shurun¡¯el himself was involved. A haunting name. Someone Darius had rather hoped he would not see again. It seemed that troublesome stain had become associated with far more dangerous things than trafficking and robbery.

    An idea lit as Blackfrost sailed through the air and cleaved a target dummy in half. Darius halted. Shurun¡¯el was crucial, yes, but merely a missing link. He could be the first to fall on a trail that would lead to the true target.

    I hope you left an ugly scar on that filth, Captain.

    Darius immediately rebuked himself. This was no way to honour the memory of the dead. He knelt, offering a silent prayer for his fallen squad. He committed their spirits to gentler snows and continued his routine. Sand kicked up as the Amarant moved through different stances and strokes.

    You SWORE an OATH, you fool.

    Blackfrost screeched, slicing through both sack and post. The immense metal frame of the blade came down with the ease of a diving hawk.

    You left that life far behind you. Dead and buried.

    The Amarant screamed as his blade picked up again.

    You will protect and serve. You will NEVER go back to what you were.

    Darius swung the sword. Sparks followed.

    Those around you are not steps for you to tread on.

    Blackfrost spun and soared. It cut through mist and morning air once all else was felled.

    This fire you carry will burn no others. You will go down with it alone.

    Darius fell to his knees as the last target lay crumpled. He dropped Blackfrost. He would never take his Amarantship for granted. He would not let his competing interests cloud his judgment and cripple his duty. Darius was not foolish enough to believe he could relieve himself of this desire that burned within his bones. No. But he was at least wise enough to determine not to drag anyone else into this.

    Guldar. El¡¯enur. Darius knew they would follow him. But he could not allow it.

    You will go down with this fire alone.

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ he said to himself.

    Such were the conflicting thoughts occupying the mind of the Amarant as dawn pushed through and the sun made its slow crawl over the horizon. A tortured silhouette stood ashen still and spent against the morning¡¯s glow.

    Later, with the training done and the chaos of the beachfront behind him, Darius headed toward the dormitory area of the Hall of Residence to collect his companions for the council. He rounded the corner to the west of the building, where the families of key personnel were given lodging. It was barely past the seventh hour when Darius knocked at the door of his cavalry division¡¯s sub-commander.

    ¡®Come in,¡¯ Guldar called in his gruff, familiar voice.

    Darius pushed through and into the man¡¯s chambers. The d¨¦cor was as he remembered; simple and settled with stability. No gaudy colours or ornaments were in sight. Guldar lived up to his name, living with the simplicity of the mountains. The man himself was reclining at a sturdy table that looked to be made of more stone than wood, enjoying the one luxury he deemed necessary: coffee. His wife Innareth sat across from him, sipping a blend no doubt as strong as her husband¡¯s own from her mug.

    ¡®Good morning, Darius,¡¯ she said. ¡®Come on in, take a seat.¡¯ Guldar¡¯s wife was a woman for whom age was not an unwelcome disfigurement but a stately sign of wisdom and weathered beauty. The creases along her bronze skin spoke of time-tested strength. The grey that peppered her rich, brown hair looked no more out of place than the peak of a snow-capped mountain.  She was a perfect match to Guldar¡¯s resilience and easy-going vigour.

    ¡®Lady Innareth,¡¯ he replied with a nod. Closing the door behind him, he moved forward and dragged a nearby stool into place.

    ¡®Mornin¡¯ to you,¡¯ Guldar said after taking a long draught of his coffee. He belched.

    ¡®Don¡¯t be rude, dear,¡¯ Innareth said.

    ¡®Guldar, are you ready? Amaleron¡¯s called for council at eighth watch.¡¯

    ¡®No sense in beating the sun to readiness, man. But yes, yes, I¡¯m prepared now.¡¯

    When Guldar didn¡¯t stir, Darius grinned. ¡®I¡¯ll let you finish your coffee first.¡¯

    ¡®Thegyou,¡¯ Guldar mumbled with the mug to his mouth. His wife shook her head and smiled.

    Suddenly, a rackety commotion made its way to the dining area like a whirlwind. Two young figures, a boy and a girl, rushed to the table, forceful as their father and fair as their mother. Their eyes widened when they saw Darius.

    ¡®Woah, Amarant Darius is here!¡¯ said the girl.

    ¡®Darius! Darius!¡¯ the boy said as he tugged at the Amarant¡¯s trousers. ¡®Are you gonna kill anyone today?¡¯

    ¡®Feri!¡¯ Innareth snapped. She looked to Darius apologetically.

    Darius smiled and signalled that no trouble was made. Innareth promptly collected the children and dragged them off for a lecture. ¡®What stories have you been telling them, Guldar?¡¯ Darius asked.

    ¡®Nothin¡¯ too far from the truth,¡¯ Guldar said, then returned to his coffee. He choked the drink down when Innareth stormed over to hit him.

    ¡®An Amarant doesn¡¯t kill anyone, you idiot,¡¯ the girl reprimanded Feri. ¡®They protect people. They keep us safe. You see that giant sword? Anyone who¡¯s smart is too scared to fight against that!¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s a good girl, Sela,¡¯ her mother said.

    Darius admired her purity and naivet¨¦. If only things were that simple. He suddenly sensed the weight of the blade that rested by the door. He felt the gravity of what it had done. What it was going to do. A tap on his shoulder brought Darius out of his thoughts.

    ¡®I¡¯m ready,¡¯ Guldar said after he put his mug down. ¡®Let¡¯s go.¡¯ The man rose from the table, and as he did, both Feri and Sela abandoned their post at their mother¡¯s scolding and clung to their father.

    ¡®Bye, father,¡¯ they said in unison.

    Guldar bent down to kiss each one on the forehead and smiled. When Innareth walked over, he stood up and kissed her. ¡®See you later, love.¡¯

    ¡®Let¡¯s go get El¡¯enur,¡¯ Darius said.

    ¡®What do you wager that he¡¯s sleeping?¡¯

    ¡®Too much simeh has made you a gambler, I see, and I¡¯m no fool to bet against that. But chances are you¡¯re right.¡¯

    ¡®Should¡¯ve expected this,¡¯ Guldar groaned.

    ¡®Be nice to him,¡¯ Innareth called. ¡®He¡¯s a lovely young man.¡¯

    Guldar sighed and walked out the door with Darius. The two men stepped through the alleys of the castle grounds, heading for the other side of the Hall of Residence where El¡¯enur lived. Given that El¡¯enur had no family, he opted to live in the upper storeys of the Hall with the majority of the younger soldiers comprising Darius¡¯ mane. The Amarant left Guldar on the lower floors, not trusting that he¡¯ll contain himself from breaking the door down should El¡¯enur actually be asleep. As Darius ascended the steps, he questioned if El¡¯enur was even ready. The young man had not taken the loss of his brother well. Soon, Darius¡¯ knuckles rapped against the door of the sub-commander¡¯s chamber.

    ¡®El¡¯enur!¡¯

    A short period of silence gave way to rattling inside. He heard the young archer make his way through clutter as footsteps approached the door. El¡¯enur¡¯s head appeared behind a reluctantly opening door. His hair was unkempt and his eyes were cloudy with sleep.

    ¡®Good morning, commander,¡¯ he said blearily.

    ¡®Morning. Do you know what time it is?¡¯

    ¡®Oh! I¡¯m so sorry!¡¯ El¡¯enur disappeared again. Darius had to keep from laughing. A few moments later, El¡¯enur emerged once more, clearly hastily dressed and hair not exactly stylish. His bow was only loosely strapped to his back.

    ¡®How are you holding up, El¡¯enur?¡¯This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    ¡®I¡¯m fine,¡¯ he said, voice still croaky. ¡®I apologise again. Sir, I know I acted up yesterday. I couldn¡¯t take it. It won¡¯t happen again.¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t apologise for your emotion,¡¯ Darius assured him. ¡®Caring for your brother is not your weakness. Now, come along. Amaleron is waiting at the council. And so is Guldar. Downstairs.¡¯

    ¡®Oh, great.¡¯

    El¡¯enur jumped into his footwear, locked the door, and joined the Amarant outside his room.

    ¡®You look trashed. What happened to you?¡¯ Darius asked as the two soldiers made their way toward the stairs.

    ¡®Last night?¡¯ El¡¯enur said sheepishly. ¡®Uh, I went on a date¡­ of sorts. Drinks at the Commons. One drink turned to three. Then I lost count, and I kind of lost sight of my date as well.¡¯

    ¡®Who was it this time? Mara? Erina? Ren? Any of the others?¡¯

    ¡®Look, commander,¡¯ El¡¯enur began, sounding hurt, ¡®I know you don¡¯t approve of my¡­ romantic habits¡ª¡¯

    ¡®To put it mildly,¡¯ Darius interjected. ¡®I know firsthand that nothing good comes of such flippant relationships.¡¯

    ¡®¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t anything like that. It was Nelesa.¡¯

    ¡®Nelesa is one of my own soldiers,¡¯ Darius said. His tone was ice. ¡®What did you want her for?¡¯

    ¡®Oh, I was doing¡­ research.¡¯

    ¡®Research involving several bottles of brandy?¡¯

    El¡¯enur laughed. ¡®No, I had her look into the Archives for signs of the Order. As in, perhaps the histories will reveal something. These guys are claiming a link with the ancient Order of Seven. Maybe there¡¯re some patterns they¡¯re replicating. It could give us a clue as to what they¡¯re up to.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s not a bad idea. But there are no books in Commons.¡¯

    ¡®I knew you¡¯d like it, commander. You can trust me. I don¡¯t want to miss anything. Nel and I are close. So, knowing her, she¡¯ll probably have something by today¡¯s council already.¡¯

    Darius looked over the young man in silence. Don¡¯t be blind to what¡¯s in front of you, boy. Don¡¯t you see how she sees you? But he did not say it. This was something El¡¯enur had to work at himself.

    ¡®Good. We¡¯ll see if it¡¯s helpful. Let¡¯s get to it.¡¯

    The Amarant and the archer met Guldar downstairs and the three men departed for the Hall of the Elders. It was no longer a bloodied day, a heavy day. The clear blue overhanging them was light, but by no means easy. For the primary task still lay ahead of them. This council would decide what action Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s military should take against the Order¡¯s activities. They were all that stood between light and darkness.

    This was the Amarant¡¯s task. This is what he would follow through on. He would not fail the men who stood beside him. Nor would he take their companionship lightly or make a mockery of them. When the fire fell, when the time came to answer the clutches of the flame, he would not drag them down with him.

    * * *

    The crowd of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s elite streamed toward the entrance of the Hall of Elders. Soldiers and scholars were funnelled up the stairs of the Hall and in between the ancient pillars of the antechamber. No amount of drinks could have dimmed El¡¯enur¡¯s apprehension in this moment. But there was an exhilarating rush also, a sense of being swept up into something that mattered. El¡¯enur had desired the soldier¡¯s life, not for pay or petty entertainment, but for the chance at significance. As troupers, his family always pretended. They played the roles of mighty saviours and towering defenders, but that had never been enough.

    Well, you got what you asked for, didn¡¯t you, El?

    Here he was, included among those whom now were called to the impossible. He would not run away again.

    ¡®El, are you alright?¡¯ Nelesa asked as she walked alongside him. Perhaps it was only the residual effect of alcohol, but her eyes seemed especially deep today, and the streaks in her hair peculiarly rich with a sky-touched azure.

    ¡®Hm? Oh, fine, Nel. Just a bit jumpy. We¡¯re only dealing with a group of madmen who are trying to bring about the destruction of the world.¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯re right,¡¯ she said with a smile, ¡®it¡¯s not like they prepare us for this in the Academy.¡¯

    ¡®Not sure how much those bookworms do prepare us for.¡¯

    ¡®Hey!¡¯ she squealed. ¡®That¡¯s not fair. What happened to the El¡¯enur who learned to appreciate history?¡¯

    ¡®He¡¯s history, probably still at the Commons talking to one of those blue-heads.¡¯ He beamed a smile.

    ¡®You¡¯d probably still be talking to a wall,¡¯ Nel said testily, ¡®especially after drink number five. It was not exactly the most sophisticated engagement.¡¯

    ¡®Oh, no. What did I say? I¡¯m sorry about that, Nel. I¡ª¡¯

    ¡®No, please. No need to apologise.¡¯ Her serious face soon crumpled under a smile. ¡®Besides, I was quite interested in finding out exactly how you do skin a cat and make shelter using only eggshells and dry cheese.¡¯

    ¡®What? Oh, starlight¡­¡¯

    Nelesa giggled. ¡®Not to worry, El. While I didn¡¯t follow your request to teach you how to speak horse, I did look into the Order¡¯s history for you.¡¯

    El¡¯enur was sure his face had turned as red as a batch of freshly cast metal. ¡®So no hopes of getting a primer on horse grammar?¡¯

    Nelesa struck him. ¡®You know you could write one given the noises you were making last night.¡¯

    El¡¯enur chuckled. He enjoyed the vexation his antics had caused Nel but he was also embarrassed by them. ¡®Find anything?¡¯

    Nelesa¡¯s face fell. ¡®Not much, unfortunately. There¡¯s barely even anything written during Ulm¨¬r¡¯s reign. A few names here and there and a basic overview of their makeup and skills, but that¡¯s it. Then they just vanish for four hundred years. There¡¯s nothing until Feres. Now they¡¯re back and carrying out their duty again? It doesn¡¯t make sense.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s a long grudge to hold.¡¯

    ¡®Or someone really knows their history.¡¯

    ¡®Alright, thank you for looking into it, Nel. Looks like I won¡¯t have to read, after all.¡¯

    Nelesa smiled. ¡®Wouldn¡¯t want you to hurt yourself now.¡¯

    ¡®How nice of you,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, but then his attention was caught by someone he spotted not far ahead. Asphales and Valinos were walking together. Those two, as unlike as summer and winter, had somehow bonded. Even El¡¯enur could see that. What had they been through? What part did they have in all this? ¡®Hang on a moment, Nel. I¡¯ll be back.¡¯

    ¡®What are you going to do with your old sword?¡¯ Valinos was asking as El¡¯enur approached.

    ¡®Asphales! Valinos!¡¯ he intervened. ¡®Good morning.¡¯

    The two turned to face him gladly. ¡®Hey!¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®Look,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, ¡®I know last time we spoke I was not¡­ entirely together.¡¯

    ¡®You weren¡¯t the worst of it,¡¯ Valinos said. ¡®After you left I ended up irking your Amarant to the point he had me pinned.¡¯

    ¡®Really? If that¡¯s all he did, you got off lucky.¡¯

    The three of them laughed in unison until Darius himself stepped past. They promptly adopted more dignified faces.

    El¡¯enur patted them both on the shoulder. ¡®I wanted to say that I¡¯m with you.¡¯

    ¡®What do you mean?¡¯ Asphales asked. Valinos simply looked on, confused.

    ¡®Ser¨¬n saw something in you. He gave his all so you could make it. I will do the same.¡¯

    Valinos stood speechless, his wintry eyes unreadable. Asphales looked taken aback. ¡®That¡¯s very kind of you, El¡¯enur,¡¯ he said.

    ¡®Please, call me El. But yes, my brother did so much for me. It¡¯s taken me a long time to realise that. And how could I repay him?¡¯ El¡¯enur looked at both of them in turn. ¡®The best I could do is trust the people he did and see this through.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you, El,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®Ser¨¬n taught us a lot.¡¯ His eyes sheened sadly. Suddenly, there was a hollow echo between the pillars of the Hall. An absence. A lack. But no, there would be no more mourning.

    ¡®He gave you the riddle, didn¡¯t he?¡¯

    They both nodded.

    ¡®He learned that during his days as a trouper. As an actor he had to be careful that his role ended when the play did. There was no benefit to continue feigning. It¡¯s a good leadership lesson. Don¡¯t pretend to be more than you are. Work on your real qualities.¡¯

    ¡®And we got a drink out of it.¡¯

    El¡¯enur laughed. ¡®So you solved it. Ser¨¬n could never take losing a bet. Must¡¯ve sulked for hours. Alright, lads, I¡¯ll see you inside. Let¡¯s see what we¡¯re all getting into, shall we?¡¯

    As he left them, El¡¯enur caught Darius¡¯ eye. The Amarant held his gaze intently and gave an approving nod. Not for the first time, El¡¯enur marvelled at the Amarant¡¯s uncanny ability to stay aware of everything going on. He chuckled to himself and then drew back to keep pace with Nelesa as the doors of the Hall¡¯s main chamber opened.

    * * *

    Like heaven¡¯s bodies in the boundless deep

    So stand and dimming starlight keep

    Amaleron¡¯s voice was stentorian. The council was convened. Even Valinos could sense the solemnity of the moment. Under the gaze of ancients, fewer than twenty people assembled to halt the advance of darkness and change the fate of the world. Those who made their way in now huddled silently beneath the bizarrely pure and gentle light streaming through the stained glass. The irony of the situation made a smile creep onto Valinos¡¯ face. He was here to alter the direction of a story he had not even believed in.

    But now here he was. Valinos felt as if he stood on the precipice, moments before a dive. Only this was no recreational dive with Asphales at the Dragon¡¯s Horn. There, all their cares were whisked away by the fall. Here, they were plunging into something far more sinister. Something that would change them forever.

    He looked around at those gathered. The Amarants and their sub-commanders remained at post, keen-eyed as if they were preparing for battle. Amaleron paced the pedestal around the throne, looking just about ready to address everyone. A few others, various soldiers, scholars, and political leaders perhaps, hung about nervously.

    And of course, Asphales was next to him. His best friend. The fisherman from Silnod¨¬r. Valinos did not begrudge him the role he was about to play. He did not envy him. He merely felt a pang of regret at the hardship he had caused him throughout their childhood. Remorse for the insults hurled at one who clung on to the story when he had lost all else. Asphales had found the truth of this. Was it too much to wish that he, too, would find guidance and direction?

    Amaleron stirred and there was a shuffle to attention in the chamber. ¡®I thank you all for gathering today,¡¯ the steward began in his commanding tone. ¡®It is with some disappointment that I look out and see only our small number, for what we shall speak of concerns all Anardes and indeed even beyond.

    ¡®Lord Elan is absent, for instance, but Taeladran will soon be swept up in this. The Eastern Nations continue in their recalcitrance. I need not repeat the horrors of the Battle of Feres and how our appeals for cooperation were spurned. The matriarchs of Hyad? and Pleiad? have made their choice, it seems.¡¯

    ¡®Semera is insane,¡¯ Guldar fumed, breaking Amaleron¡¯s stride. ¡®She exiled her own husband. What would we even gain from someone like her?¡¯

    The steward seemed unperturbed by the sub-commander¡¯s vocal interruption. ¡®You are right. Negotiations have failed. We have the defector Tel¡¯aren to thank for the information that has leaked to us. There seems to be something far deeper behind the Eastern hostility. At any rate, they are not here.

    ¡®Our Western neighbours, Senhia and Kerena appear to be completely uninterested. There is no chance King Cerus would be in attendance and no delegation has been sent. Perhaps it is that the Order¡¯s influence has seeped so deeply as to affect these nations¡¯ disposition.¡¯

    ¡®There are movements,¡¯ Darius said, ¡®like worms beneath the earth. They rear their heads and we attempt to strike, but we are unaware of the tunnelling depths and their entwining links.¡¯

    ¡®And that is what we are here for, Amarant Darius. To try and put together some of those links and, more importantly, to assess and decide what we are to do about it.¡¯

    ¡®How did this all start?¡¯ Asphales asked. ¡®I¡¯m sorry, but so much of this is new to me. What led to the division of the nations?¡¯

    Amaleron looked around, appearing to gauge approval on a tangent from those to whom such details were well-known. Valinos was glad when he prepared to answer the question. He knew even less than Asphales, given his prior aversion to history.

    ¡®Ulm¨¬r¡¯s halcyon days did not last long. The disaster of his covenant with Anarah and the summoning of the Shadow are wounds from which we still reel. The unification which Ulm¨¬r achieved came undone in the aftermath. Everything he worked for crumbled. But I need to weave in the fate of his children in order to tell this tale fully.¡¯

    ¡®Ulm¨¬r had three children, right?¡¯ Asphales questioned.

    ¡®That is correct. Ed¨¦ri?l the Silverflame was the eldest. She was full of grace and kindness, taking after her mother. Elm¨¬r the Lightning, the Dragonking¡¯s only son, was brave and mighty. With Ulm¨¬r¡¯s reclusiveness in the wake of Retela¡¯s death, it was Elm¨¬r who took charge of the military. Ah, he led the Seven at such a young age¡­¡¯

    ¡®What about Ereden? What happened to her?¡¯

    Amaleron fell silent. Valinos noted a peculiar sadness which passed by the old man¡¯s eyes. ¡®In his madness,¡¯ the steward said, ¡®Ulm¨¬r sacrificed his youngest daughter. He believed that was the catalyst which made contact with the Shadow.¡¯ The old man¡¯s voice wavered as a tear traced a path between the ancient lines on his face. ¡®That is when we knew we had lost him. Ulm¨¬r was gone. He had to be stopped.¡¯ Amaleron faced the crowd once more. ¡®That is the depth of evil we face.¡¯

    Asphales drew a deep breath. ¡®I still find it so sad that Ulm¨¬r fell in such a manner.¡¯

    ¡®To none more so than us, Asphales. In many ways, Ulm¨¬r is the Nodir¨¬m¡¯s mistake. Our hearts break to see the damage he wrought, to see all that he marred. We cannot help but be panged by guilt also, with the knowledge that it was we who brought him to power.

    ¡®That sentiment was channelled negatively by others after the War of Sealing, however. With Ulm¨¬r locked away, something had to be done to contain the chaos and confusion. Ed¨¦ri?l reigned briefly at this time, but her rule was contested. Something or someone incited those who would splinter and form the Eastern Nations to revolt during her days on the throne.¡¯

    ¡®The Eastern Nations were originally Anarda?an?¡¯ Asphales asked incredulously.

    Amaleron nodded. ¡®Those who founded the Seven Cities of Pleiad? and the Five Strongholds of Hyad? were the daughters of Daleran, the chief instigator in the civil war. He decidedly opposed Ulm¨¬r¡¯s royal line, and the whole monarchy in fact, for he lost his monopoly on the land when the Anarda?an states became the Empire.¡¯

    ¡®So the whole affair was economic?¡¯ Valinos chimed in.

    ¡®I do not believe so, for Daleran¡¯s hatred went far beyond that. He spoke cryptically of restoring rule and order to where it belonged. He challenged Ed¨¦ri?l to single combat, but it was Elm¨¬r who stood in for her and duelled. Daleran lost, and so he fled to the East with his clans. The story goes that he did not marry off his daughters before he died, and hence rule fell to a line of Eastern matriarchs. Anardes had little contact with the East after their exile.¡¯

    ¡®What happened to Kerena and Senhia?¡¯

    ¡®They seized the chance to become independent once more. Senhia, particularly, suffered heavy losses during Ulm¨¬r¡¯s annexation of those nations. The Senh¨¬ withdrew immediately afterwards. They are a patriotic and self-seeking lot, but their wariness and suspicion is understandable. They did not weigh in either way. As for Kerena¡­¡¯

    ¡®Kerena became obsessed with the Dragonking,¡¯ Darius said coldly. ¡®By some magic or madness, they were convinced Ulm¨¬r was the true king, the one who would ¡®rebirth the world,¡¯ and that he was unlawfully snuffed by the Elders. I grew up with deceitful tales of the Dragonking¡¯s glorious return.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, so Kerena continued to trouble the dwindled Anarda?an Empire for some time. In fact, their persistence caused Anardes itself to repudiate the monarchy when the pressure was too great. Ed¨¦ri?l herself was forced to abdicate and the whole affair was erased. The once-regent went into hiding. Elm¨¬r fled also, disbanding what was left of his renewed Order of Seven. In the Kerenani mind, Ulm¨¬r could brook no rivals and so they relentlessly pursued his heirs. Elm¨¬r was killed at sea and his body displayed proudly in Kerena. Ed¨¦ri?l was reportedly assassinated as she travelled eastwards. Thus came to an end the offspring of the Dragonking. Both Kerena and the East settled after that, and an uneasy quiet rested over the world for nearly four hundred years. Until now.¡¯

    ¡®What did the Elders do?¡¯

    ¡®We knew that we were targets. Soon enough, the world would figure out that the Nodir¨¬m were the key to holding the Dragonking in his seal. We split, partly to avoid being together and risk detection, partly to attempt informing the people of the true state of the matter. And all the while, we were searching and awaiting the promised of the Eldersong.¡¯

    Murmurs spread through the small crowd. ¡®What has come of that search?¡¯ an elderly voice perked up. It belonged to a wizened scholar with blue hair. ¡®Have we learned the identity of this ¡®promised one¡¯ or the timing of their arrival?¡¯

    ¡®Patience, man!¡¯ Guldar piped up. ¡®That is why we¡¯re here.¡¯

    The old scholar shot Guldar a miffed glare, but said no more.

    ¡®There is no need for that, Guldar,¡¯ the steward said. ¡®For here we stand with welcome news. We are few in number, true, but we possess something that I daresay the enemy does not. Those heralded by the Ode of the Nodir¨¬m stand amongst us.¡¯

    The murmur grew like a rumble of thunder. ¡®How can you say this? How do we know it is true?¡¯

    ¡®This is wonderful!¡¯ another voice said. Valinos recognised Nadros¡¯ cheerful tone. The sailor looked ready to skip with joy. But something was amiss in Valinos¡¯ mind. Did Amaleron hint that there were more children of Elderlight than Asphales alone?

    ¡®The song of sealing,¡¯ Amaleron said, ¡®was but the prelude to the grander song that is now being composed. The fragments we possess speak of descendants of starlight itself, children sired by the Nodir¨¬m, who will stand against the Shadow. The only two such children that I am aware of are right here at Fara¡¯ethar. Would you step forward, Asphales Es¨¦linor?¡¯

    Total silence fell as Asphales stepped up to the steward¡¯s platform. Valinos had to give him credit for not making the nervousness he surely felt overt. The world¡¯s destiny rested in the hands of a fisherman. Valinos felt a nudge on his shoulder. He looked over to find El¡¯enur accosting him with a dumbfounded stare. ¡®Did you know about this?¡¯ he whispered. Valinos could only shrug to relay his surprise. ¡®Not until recently.¡¯

    ¡®The other Elderchild has served the Empire for many years already.¡¯ The steward nodded to someone in the gathering. ¡®Our own Amarant Catena is an Elder¡¯s daughter.¡¯

    That total silence somehow deepened. The woman¡¯s footsteps reverberated as she joined Asphales and Amaleron on the plateau. The knight from the forest, an Elderchild? So she was not only a deadly Amarant but also one empowered by an ancient force. Valinos made a mental note never to cross her again.

    ¡®The enemy has attempted to grasp at these two, but they have evaded the Order¡¯s clutches and now¡ª¡¯

    Suddenly there was a scream. A desperate, hopeless shriek. All eyes turned to a scrawny figure who cowered in terror and kicked himself wildly away from the crowd.

    ¡®She¡¯s the fiery one,¡¯ he rambled. ¡®She¡¯s the fiery one. She¡¯s the fiery one.¡¯

    ¡®Rast!¡¯ yelled Nadros as he rushed to the man¡¯s side. ¡®O blackened bones, Rast! What has gotten into you?¡¯ The man on the ground shoved the Amarant away. Darius and Guldar stepped in to restrain his writhing movements.

    ¡®No, no, no, no,¡¯ Rast said. ¡®I don¡¯t want to go there again.¡¯

    Amarant Nadros returned and gripped the man¡¯s shoulders. ¡®Rast, it¡¯s alright. They are not here. The Order will not hurt you again. You are safe.¡¯ Rast¡¯s whimpering subsided and eventually his motions relaxed. He embraced the old Amarant and sobbed softly. All others in the room looked on with horror.

    ¡®What is the meaning of this?¡¯ Amaleron asked.

    ¡®This,¡¯ Darius said as he stepped forward, ¡®is the Order¡¯s handiwork. One of the Elders lived in hiding in a small Kerenan town. When we got there, everything had been burnt down and destroyed. Rast here is the only survivor. He managed to hide but clearly he has lost his mind in the process. He is still haunted by what he¡¯s seen.¡¯

    In the corner, Nadros was still comforting the shaken Rast. ¡®Don¡¯t worry. Lady Catena is not the fiery fiend. She will not hurt you.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, Caph was killed in that Kerenan assault,¡¯ Amaleron said as he shifted his attention back to the gathering.

    ¡®How many others are dead?¡¯ asked El¡¯enur.

    ¡®Is it true that only six seals stand between us and darkness?¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®How did you come to know of this?¡¯ a scholar asked.

    ¡®I¡­ I think I see it in my dreams. I¡¯m trying to understand them. Last night I had another and I saw it again. I saw Anarah. And I think I see the sealing place of the Dragonking. How can that be?¡¯

    ¡®Are dreams truly reliable testimony, steward?¡¯ Guldar asked.

    ¡®What you see, Asphales,¡¯ Amaleron began, ¡®is the World Departed. It is just as real as the World That Is, yet tragically separated by the veil of death. As one who shares in both starlight and mortal blood, you are able to stand on the brink, on a precipice between this realm and the next. It is there the Dragonking has lain in wait, neither alive nor dead, poisoned by the restless presence of Anarah for hundreds of years. Thence he will return.¡¯

    Asphales seemed to shiver visibly at the steward¡¯s revelation.

    Ad¨¦lia darted a worried look toward Asphales. Valinos had not seen such concern on the capable warrior¡¯s face before.

    ¡®So it¡¯s true, then,¡¯ El¡¯enur said. ¡®How have we lost so many already?¡¯

    ¡®Yes. Seventeen years ago, Maia was murdered in the East. This seems to be the resurgence of the Order¡¯s activity, but they did not make this open until the Battle of Feres, where we began to glimpse their influence. Five years after that, Menkalinan and Hadar were eliminated here in Anardes. And just recently, Caph was lost in Kerena.¡¯

    ¡®What are we doing about that?¡¯ Guldar asked. ¡®I don¡¯t imagine it will go well for us if Elders keep dropping off.¡¯

    ¡®Very perceptive,¡¯ El¡¯enur said. ¡®I believe that¡¯s exactly what we¡¯re trying to avoid.¡¯

    ¡®Boy, I haven¡¯t heard a useful thing out of your mouth yet,¡¯ Guldar retorted.

    ¡®Masters El¡¯enur and Guldar, please,¡¯ Amaleron said. ¡®This is not the time. For that is not all there is to this. Even in this apparent darkness there is fortuitous light. The Nodir¨¬m who have fallen have left behind their fragments of the new song. Unfortunately, we do not have the words of Maia, but three other pieces are known to us.¡¯

    ¡®And? What do these songs do?¡¯ Guldar inquired.

    ¡®They channel the lifeforce of the Nodir¨¬m. The words carry the strength of starlight, ready to be received by those of Elder blood. This is a song far greater and more powerful than the Song of Sealing. Comprised of ten fragments, this ode will at once reveal the workings of Regulus in the world and empower the heirs of starlight to fight the schemes of Sirius.¡¯ The steward walked over to Nadros and Rast. ¡®How is he feeling?¡¯ he asked.

    The old sailor looked down at the Rast¡¯s crumpled figure and called his name. Rast slowly uncurled himself and looked around. He proved calmer, his mind more collected. ¡®I am sorry,¡¯ he said, ¡®but I feel better now.¡¯

    ¡®Are you ready to share what you know?¡¯

    ¡®Yes.¡¯

    Rast stood up and hobbled alongside the steward as they made their way back to the platform. He straightened himself and addressed the crowd. ¡®I saw what they did to the singing man, this Elder of yours, and it ain¡¯t right. He was peaceful.¡¯

    ¡®What did you see, Rast? Who was involved?¡¯

    Rast paused before continuing. ¡®There were two of them. A girl in red. A man in black. They killed and burned everything. And they answered to one more terrible than both. He¡­ I¡¯m sorry, I do not want to recall. But the one you wanted, the Elder, he sung this just before he died. I hope it will be of some use.¡¯

    Rast took up the words of the dying Elder. He did not sing, for his voice seemed too dry to handle a tune. Rather, he recited it.

    Fragmented world by avarice and lust

    True bravery its pain will cease

    ¡®spite shadowed tyranny and broken trust

    The burdened earth shall find its peace

    All nature eager looks to heroes just

    And free of curious caprice

    Alas through patient shifts of time it must

    Await vicarious release

    Valinos listened on, enraptured despite the man¡¯s lacking voice. The words lodged themselves in memory, where a melody etched itself alongside the stanza.

    ¡®It may not seem like much,¡¯ Amaleron said, ¡®but these words will carry a Nod¨¬r¡¯s strength like a river current. Master Asphales and Lady Catena¡¯s lifeforce will grow and be shaped by them. Their potential is immense. Our hope rises with these two. And so, our best course of action¡ª¡¯

    ¡®What about your fragment, Lord Amaleron?¡¯ El¡¯enur interrupted. ¡®Won¡¯t that help?¡¯

    The steward sighed. ¡®My boy, regretfully, I do not yet have access to my part of this song. The words have not coalesced yet. It is¡­ difficult to explain the process, but I believe these fragments are given to us naturally. I cannot concoct it when I wish.

    ¡®But what is clear with the parts we do possess is that the Elderchildren will fight. We must assist them in every way we can. For this reason, our immediate course of action should be to train them. Asphales and Catena, you will be sent to Taeladran in order to hone your skills and be instructed in the workings of lifeforce.¡¯

    ¡®Why Taeladran?¡¯ Darius asked.

    ¡®In the fortress city of Taeladran another Nod¨¬r dwells in hiding. The one who will teach these two has the most advanced grasp of lifeforce and its uses. He may give us the best chance. Amarant Darius, I wish that you accompany them also. Your skill with the blade is unequalled and you have proven an able instructor.¡¯

    ¡®As you will,¡¯ Darius replied.

    The steward¡¯s eyes scanned the crowd and landed directly upon Valinos. ¡®As for you, Valinos, I know you are still searching. But will you join your friend in this? Training could be beneficial for you also.¡¯

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ Valinos said. ¡®I will go where Asphales does.¡¯

    ¡®Good.¡¯

    ¡®What about our enemy, the Order?¡¯ Guldar said. ¡®Have we learned anything more about them? What are we to do about their movements? What are we up against?¡¯

    ¡®Given these events and the hunt for the Nodir¨¬m, there can be no doubt that the group calling itself the Order of Seven intends to be seen as a resurrection of the ancient order which swore fealty to Ulm¨¬r.¡¯

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ Nadros said, ¡®and Sanaros seems to be their port of operation.¡¯

    ¡®So far, they have been a step ahead every time. They locate and eliminate the Elders for their dark goal of unsealing the Dragonking. Make no mistake, for behind them stands Anarah itself. We are not dealing with simple men, crazed or clueless. Even the old order was so loyal to their king and his purpose the Nodir¨¬m were forced to fight through them. Beside Elm¨¬r himself, only one other stood down and defected. He disappeared in the chaos. Expect the same zeal and dedication. They answered only to the king.¡¯

    ¡®Is there anything of help for us in that?¡¯ El¡¯enur wondered.

    ¡®Hang on,¡¯ a voice cut in. ¡®Here, I believe I may have something.¡¯ It came from a young woman near El¡¯enur. Her blue and black hair rocked wildly as she ran up to the platform. ¡®Master El¡¯enur has asked me to research the Order¡¯s origins. I dug through the Archives and, while I did not find much, I stumbled upon something which could prove useful.

    ¡®Lord Amaleron, you mentioned that only the king could direct the Order¡¯s affairs, but that¡¯s not quite correct. Ulm¨¬r consulted three military advisors, according to the histories. They divided the Order into three parts, each with respective duties. It only occurred to me now that these three divisions may still exist currently. Rast mentioned that one of those present seemed to be in charge. Potentially, this man may be one of three who rule the group. It¡¯s likely Darius¡¯ group dealt with the Kerenan division.¡¯

    ¡®Nel, you¡¯re brilliant,¡¯ El¡¯enur called out.

    ¡®If that¡¯s true,¡¯ Guldar sulked, ¡®we have more enemies than we thought.¡¯

    ¡®More targets to draw information out of,¡¯ Darius said.

    ¡®That is quite useful, and you are right,¡¯ Amaleron said, evidently not minding the young woman¡¯s audacity. She returned to El¡¯enur with a satisfied smile. ¡®So we have something else to be mindful of,¡¯ the steward continued. ¡®Very well. This will tie in with the second prong of our operations. Amarant Nadros, you know your way around Sanaros and have already discerned much useful information. Will you return and continue monitoring the Order¡¯s activities?¡¯

    ¡®Yes, my lord,¡¯ said Nadros.

    ¡®Assemble a team, small by necessity, and sail for Sanaros Island. Your task will be to keep track of the Order¡¯s knowledge and discern hints as to locations of other Nodir¨¬m. If the Order is aware of others, we must reach them before they do. It is our only hope at collecting each fragment of their song.¡¯

    ¡®I understand.¡¯

    ¡®You will have to be discreet. I am not comfortable sending you to a location at the heart of the Order¡¯s activity again. There is also the added sensitivity of Kerena¡¯s presence there. Take the utmost care.¡¯

    Nadros giggled. ¡®Don¡¯t worry, my lord. Discretion is my speciality.¡¯

    Guldar groaned. ¡®I¡¯ll probably end up going with you, old man, on one of your costumed hunts.¡¯

    ¡®Good,¡¯ Amaleron said. ¡®It is settled then. We will make preparations and execute these plans after the Feast Day of Anardes.¡¯

    ¡®When is that?¡¯ Asphales asked.

    ¡®This coming Sunsfell, on the first day of N¨¬this,¡¯ Nadros said.

    Amaleron smiled warmly. ¡®It will be good to celebrate. Fortune is with us. It is best to go into this with our hearts merry, so we have until then to set things in order.¡¯ The steward looked around the room. ¡®Concerning what has been spoken here today, I solemnly charge you all and trust you with secrecy. The enemy has already latched on to too many of our plans. We cannot fail here. This council is adjourned. I thank you all for your time. May Regulus¡¯ blessing be upon our efforts. Starlight guide us all.¡¯

    ¡®Starlight guide us,¡¯ the room droned together.

    For Valinos, the rest of the day passed rather slowly. He took time out to process the developments from the morning¡¯s meeting. After a brief meal with Asphales at midday, he found himself in his room, pondering his place, as was his wont. His thoughts circled like the tired clouds overhead.

    Be content with this, he told himself. Your job now is to assist your closest friend. Even if this did not bring the answers he desired, Valinos understood what an important task befell them. Still, he wanted to carve a path he could call his own. He gazed around the simple yet comfortable holdings of his chamber. The setting sun threw chaotic and fiery light against its walls.

    His eyes fell to the two blades resting against his bed. Anfr¨¬r and Gulren. Asphales had returned his sword earlier with gratitude. Since he was now in possession of his father¡¯s blade, Asphales no longer had need of this one. Valinos decided to keep its name even if it belonged to him once more. And there was Gulren, named rashly when his thoughts swirled around revenge. That title would stay also. Both swords looked weary, dulled by their usage and scarred by battle.

    Valinos rose, resolved to mend these blades. If they were to serve their purpose again, they would need fixing. He picked up both sheathed weapons and carried them out of his room. He found Ithil¨¬r on the lower floor of the Hall of Residence, intending to ask for direction toward the castle armoury.

    ¡®Master Valinos,¡¯ the statuesque servant said as he saw Valinos approach. ¡®How may I be of help?¡¯ If Ithil¨¬r still felt belittled by Valinos¡¯ behaviour the previous night, he made a good effort not to show it.

    ¡®I need to find the smithy,¡¯ Valinos said. Ithil¨¬r raised his nose when he spotted the bundled weapons.

    ¡®I can¡¯t say I approve of this desire to fight, master Valinos, but if you insist, I will take you to Resina, master of arms.¡¯

    ¡®Ithil¨¬r we both fight, in our own way. I may use blades and armour while you make do with bibs and aprons, but we both intend to keep peace and order. There is a certain¡­ decorum to your art form that bears appreciating. I¡¯m simply asking you to help me carry out mine.¡¯

    ¡®Very well,¡¯ Ithil¨¬r said with the slightest crack of a smile. ¡®Follow me.¡¯ The master-servant relieved himself from his current duty, delegating his tasks to a few other servants, and took the lead.

    Valinos was taken outside Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s walls through the Lion Gate and down the road leading to the Barracks. From this height above Guladran¡¯s districts, outside the confines of the castle, everything looked idyllic. The sea, aglow with orange, nipped shyly at the docks. Endless snaking buildings lazed in the gentle light of sundown. Hardly the look of a land teetering on the edge of collapse, Valinos thought.

    In the Barracks region, they passed through groups of soldiers in the final hours of the day¡¯s training. Ithil¨¬r brought Valinos to a building as rough as the materials it dealt with, nestled so completely between the cliff¡¯s rocks it seemed a natural extension of it. Inside, the fire and steam of forges burned, unaffected by the cooling days of autumn outside. Valinos was instantly reminded of Paran¡¯s workshop and his former occupation in Silnod¨¬r.

    ¡®Resina,¡¯ the master-servant called out, ¡®I¡¯ve brought someone to see you.¡¯

    From somewhere behind the mounds of tools, weapons, and machinery, a woman stepped out. Though Valinos had seen her before, at the tavern, her imposing size was all the more daunting up close. Resina was a solid woman, truly built as one fit for the demanding tasks of a blacksmith.

    ¡®Do show her more respect than is your custom,¡¯ Ithil¨¬r said. And with that, he disappeared. Valinos imagined that the heat inside this armoury would surely melt the master-servant¡¯s sternness if he had abided much longer.

    ¡®What can I do fer ye?¡¯ the blacksmith asked with a voice like forging steel, and in an accent Valinos could not place.

    ¡®I request the use of a whetstone, master armourer. Got some blades here in need of sharpening.¡¯ Valinos unslung the sheaths containing the two swords and held them out.

    Resina sniffed roughly. ¡®Call me Res, boy. You don¡¯t look like the type to grovel. And anyhow, steel makes a right mockery of propriety.¡¯

    Valinos gulped, only slightly terrified. ¡®Thank you.¡¯

    ¡®How much do you know? Ever worked a blade?¡¯

    ¡®I know my way around an armoury. I worked for¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Good. Oil and whetstones are out back. Don¡¯t cut yerself. This ain¡¯t the medical ward. Now, I¡¯ll show ye to the station.¡¯

    Once he was at the workstation, Valinos fell into a familiar rhythm. The strange, therapeutic motions of working with metal calmed him. Old muscles and habits came to their own. Soon the blades shone with a satisfying, fresh glint. Now polished and sharpened, Valinos sat back and breathed in relief.

    Then he picked up both blades. They felt good. Anfr¨¬r in his left hand, Gulren in his right, the blades belonged together. Valinos gave them a few practice swings. They sung a twin song, now a graceful, flowing harmony, now a piercing, staccato unison.

    I could get used to this.

    A sudden clatter resounded through the armoury. In his eagerness, Valinos¡¯ swords cut clean through a wooden support and knocked over several tools and buckets. Valinos flinched.

    ¡®What¡¯s that racket?¡¯ Resina said as she trudged over. ¡®This ain¡¯t a place for¡ª Boy, is that truly yer doing?¡¯

    Valinos looked at her, frozen yet glad that the stout woman had decided not to thrash him. ¡®Yes.¡¯

    ¡®Give me a look,¡¯ she demanded. He hastily handed her a sword.

    Resina ran a careful eye along the blade¡¯s length. ¡®You do good work,¡¯ she said in a tone that Valinos guessed came as close to resembling pleasure as it could. ¡®If you ever want to earn some coin, I¡¯d be happy for ye to tag along here. Could use yer skill.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you,¡¯ Valinos said. ¡®I¡¯ll think about it.¡¯

    The blacksmith returned the sword. ¡®Alright, boy. Consider it. Now, scram. I¡¯m about to close up shop.¡¯

    As if on cue, there was a clamour at the armoury¡¯s entrance. Someone had come in and knocked over more utensils.

    ¡®What in the¡ª¡¯ Resina exclaimed.

    ¡®Sorry!¡¯ came the flustered response. Valinos jumped. He knew that voice. Fen¡¯asel. He clasped the two swords to his belt and hurried over to the intruder. Fen¡¯asel was indeed there, dressed in a night-blue smock. A thick, cloudy-grey blouse covered and complemented her attire. Her eyes lit up when she spotted him. ¡®Valinos! You are here.¡¯

    ¡®Uh, yeah,¡¯ Valinos stammered.

    ¡®Master Ithil¨¬r said I¡¯d find you at the smith. Come along, I¡¯ve got something to show you.¡¯ Fen¡¯asel ran in, took hold of Valinos¡¯ hand, and dragged him out of the building. ¡®Sorry, Res!¡¯ she called out as they exited the blacksmith.

    Outside, the sun had completely set. The sea was no longer a thing alive with flame. The ashen glow of the moon, hemmed by the glitter of a thousand distant fires, lit up the night. The evening air did a wonderful job of cooling Valinos¡¯ heated skin. The two came to a stop beside the main thoroughfare leading into Guladran.

    ¡®What¡¯s this about, Fen? Did you come alone?¡¯

    ¡®Ithil¨¬r offered to escort me,¡¯ she said, sounding almost displeased. ¡®But I ran. I have safely lost my tail.¡¯

    Valinos laughed. ¡®I wouldn¡¯t be so sure. He pops up when you least expect him.¡¯

    ¡®Anyway,¡¯ she said, ¡®tonight there¡¯s a festival in Guladran¡¯s central district. On the week leading up to N¨¬this, we celebrate the founding of Anardes. I thought I¡¯d take you so you can experience life here at Fara¡¯ethar outside of meetings. What do you say?¡¯

    ¡®Is this why you arrived like a pillager?¡¯ Valinos said with a laugh. ¡®Of course. Lead the way.¡¯

    ¡®Wonderful!¡¯ she said. Grabbing his hand once more, she led him into Guladran. Valinos wondered whether such hand-seizing would become a regular occurrence.

    As Valinos and Fen¡¯asel neared the city¡¯s centre, passing through the maze-like makeup of Guladran, the commotions one would expect of a festive occasion rose up around them. Lights of varied alchemical compositions and colours, hung on tall, block-like buildings all around, decorated the plaza around a massive fountain. The bannered Lion of Anardes dangled proudly off most of the structures. Activity buzzed around this central location. Hundreds of figures, mere silhouettes in the overwhelming lights and fires, observed the proceedings. Even more people who were not part of the action at street level looked on from their windows.

    Costumed performers and actors, musicians and merrymakers, and other jesters and artisans, all played their part in the parade before them. There was a demand for other services also. Various stalls offering foods and trinkets set themselves up around the plaza¡¯s perimeter.

    But the centrepiece drama was carried out on a mobile platform, a stage-like construction erected by the fountain. A lifetime of living with Asphales¡¯ stories enabled Valinos to recognise what was going on. These performers were acting out key moments of the conflict between Ulm¨¬r and the Elders. As he watched, Valinos was struck by a pang of melancholy. Some of this could be very real once again. This story would burst out of its professional trappings and engulf the world.

    ¡®Hey, is everything okay?¡¯ Fen¡¯asel asked beside him. ¡®What do you think?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m fine. Thank you for bringing me here, Fen. I needed a distraction.¡¯ He let himself be swayed by the morass of lights and sound. His mind needed not dwell on heavy things tonight.

    Fen¡¯asel smiled. ¡®Wait here just a moment.¡¯

    Valinos watched her skip over to a stall. She moved among all this so freely, as if she belonged. She was pure and light. There was nothing tugging at her, derailing. Like a bird freely soaring on the wind, undeterred and unconcerned by the churning of the world. There was something enviable about her.

    She returned holding two small bundles. ¡®Here, try this,¡¯ she said, handing him one. Valinos looked at the pastry in his hand and took a cautious bite. Fen¡¯asel was already devouring hers.

    ¡®What do you call this?¡¯ he asked, his face twitching at its pleasantly sour taste.

    Fen¡¯asel laughed. ¡®It¡¯s called Hawkspie. Guladran¡¯s specialty. Its filling is a mix of berries and citrus. How do you like it?¡¯

    Valinos took another bite, attempting to restrain his facial gymnastics. ¡®It¡¯s very good.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m glad to hear it.¡¯

    Valinos downed the rest of his pie as the performance in front of them unfolded. The music accompanying the struggle rose to a crescendo. Ulm¨¬r was surrounded by the Ten, their weapons drawn, their starlight flaring. The crowd cheered for the heroes and poured disdain on the demon.

    ¡®Will you stay?¡¯ Fen¡¯asel asked suddenly.

    ¡®As long as there¡¯s this Hawkspie stuff, sure,¡¯ Valinos said, his attention still on the action ahead.

    She chuckled. ¡®No, I mean here at Fara¡¯ethar. The friend you came to the castle with, he has a huge job, doesn¡¯t he?¡¯

    Valinos turned to Fen¡¯asel. Her eyes were focused onto his. ¡®That¡¯s true,¡¯ he said. ¡®My friend Asphales has a lot to do from now on. Places to go.¡¯

    ¡®So, what will you do? Will you stay?¡¯

    Valinos thought about the possibilities. He could find work in the armoury, continue his trade as a blacksmith. He had never thought about the future in Silnod¨¬r, for it was such an undesirable notion. In the fog of his former life, Valinos had no plans for a future beyond escape. But here, there was opportunity. There was a chance to settle. At the same time, there was the nagging question of his place in the Order¡¯s plans. That was not business he intended to leave unfinished, either.

    ¡®Well,¡¯ he began as he tried to organise his churning thoughts, ¡®I promised him that I would help. I won¡¯t go back on that. It may mean I travel with him for a while. But I don¡¯t wish to return to where I came from when everything is done. When I am able to, I will stay here in Fara¡¯ethar.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m happy with that,¡¯ Fen¡¯asel said. She leaned in. For an instant, there was nothing else around them. No lights, no sound, no frothing thoughts. No song of victory or roaring crowd. There was only the lightest brush of her lips against his cheek. ¡®I¡¯m happy with that, Val,¡¯ Fen¡¯asel said. But when she pulled away, a panicked look crossed her features. She rose without another word and departed, leaving nothing behind but the ghost of a kiss and the lingering warmth of her presence.

 Chapter Fifteen - This Momentary Starlight

    The end of day arrived with thick indigo curtains. But whereas the drapes were closing on one stage, they would shortly open on another. For it was the First of N¨¬this and the joyous occasion this date heralded had finally arrived.

    The night was waiting. Ad¨¦lia noticed it in the subtle shift of mood among the castle servants. It was in the lights which flickered around the courtyards like ordered stars. It was in the blank new moon that hung unseen yet tantalisingly close, ready to be redrawn. Fara¡¯ethar anticipated the night¡¯s proceedings with bated breath.

    Once a year, the Hall of Revelry was garbed in festal decorations, appropriate attire for hosting a grand banquet. The colours which flooded the Feast Hall on this evening harked back to times before the shadow. The sounds which filled the great hall echoed lighter days before the weight fell. It was the one night when everyone would forget, forget, forget. It was the time for mirth and music and meals to flow with lively energy.

    But Ad¨¦lia could never put that darkness out of mind. She had realised long ago that Ulm¨¬r¡¯s burden lay heavier on her than others. Like the land of Anardes which wilted and withered until it was torn out of shape, so there was something not quite right about her. She knew this. She felt it. She lived it constantly. The five days since the council had only renewed Ad¨¦lia¡¯s fears. For although she had not let her ailment detract from her military achievements, Ad¨¦lia wondered how much she could truly give. How much longer could this waning flower hold?

    Yet here on this night, she prepared to contribute to that lively energy. That she could do.

    ¡®It¡¯s looking to be a great night out there,¡¯ said Ulfen as she came in through the doors to the parlour and pantry. The master of banquet let in a burst of the festivities before she shut it behind her. ¡®How¡¯s everyone holding up in here? I hope we¡¯re nearly ready to go.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia craned her neck to watch the feastmaster rush through the corridor with determined and efficient steps. She stole a glance at Ad¨¦lia, who was sitting on a chair before a vanity, being tended to by Fen¡¯asel, and moved on to a cupboard full of crockery. She whistled and several servants appeared as if from nowhere. Ulfen promptly began handing out piles of dishes.

    ¡®Please face forward, my lady,¡¯ Fen¡¯asel said as she pivoted Ad¨¦lia¡¯s head toward the mirror. The young woman was styling the Amarant¡¯s hair into swirling braids. The scarlet wilderness of Ad¨¦lia¡¯s curls was being tamed into a crowned plait. She watched her transformation uneasily.

    ¡®I do not see the point of this braiding,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said.

    ¡®It¡¯s a party,¡¯ Fen¡¯asel complained. ¡®You are to go on stage and sing. You should look even more presentable. Now, hold still, my lady. Not long to go.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia pouted and stopped her fidgeting, watching Fen¡¯asel sweep over more clumps of hair artfully. The girl¡¯s own hair was already prepared, hanging in a long, braided tail over her shoulder. It was complemented by a loose and layered golden dress reaching all the way to the floor. She sported it all so freely and naturally. The Amarant felt uncomfortable in her silver ball gown. Its long frills seemed redundant. Even outside of her combat gear, she had never needed something so decadent.

    ¡®I know you don¡¯t always do this sort of thing,¡¯ Fen¡¯asel said, ¡®with you going away to the forest and to battle and all. This is¡­ a different kind of adventure.¡¯

    ¡®I will trust you with it,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said in resignation.

    ¡®Speaking of, you¡¯re travelling to Taeladran very soon, right?¡¯

    ¡®Yes. Tomorrow, in fact.¡¯

    ¡®Must be nice to see the rest of the world so often. I¡¯ve been there once, I think, but I can¡¯t remember much. This was back when father and I delivered a few birds and set up communications with Lord Elan.¡¯

    ¡®Well, you proved useful there, as you do here today. I have faith that you will keep the place in order while I am away.¡¯

    Fen¡¯asel smiled as she continued to tug at Ad¨¦lia¡¯s hair in that elaborate, mystical ritual.

    ¡®Ladies, are you finished?¡¯ Ulfen asked as she popped in from her post, somewhat agitated. She was clearly the lifeblood of activity behind the scenes of the feast.

    ¡®Almost,¡¯ Fen¡¯asel called out.

    ¡®Just a few more minutes,¡¯ she said, nodding. She turned in the direction of the kitchen. ¡®Fil! How are the meals coming along?¡¯

    ¡®Nearly done,¡¯ the chef called out from somewhere in the kitchen area.

    ¡®We¡¯ve got hungry people out there,¡¯ Ulfen retorted. ¡®It better be ready or I¡¯ll roast and serve you on a platter myself.¡¯

    At that moment, Nelesa walked out of her wardrobe in a black flared dress. ¡®How does this look?¡¯ she wondered as she tried to glimpse herself in the mirror. Ad¨¦lia was glad to know that the shy scholar volunteered bravely to join her in this performance. She did not particularly relish the idea of being on stage alone in such ridiculous attire.

    ¡®You look wonderful!¡¯ Fen¡¯asel cried. She skipped over to her and made slight adjustments to Nelesa¡¯s dress, hair, and the black and blue gemmed necklace adorning her neck. ¡®You two will be great tonight.¡¯

    ¡®Well, I hope those harp lessons will count for something.¡¯

    ¡®We¡¯ve practiced this,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia consoled, ¡®you¡¯ll do fine.¡¯

    Nelesa smiled and gave herself another look in the mirror, twisting and turning.

    ¡®You seem jittery, Nel,¡¯ said Fen¡¯asel as she returned to her task on Ad¨¦lia¡¯s hair. ¡®Might you be on the lookout for someone in particular tonight?¡¯

    Nelesa shifted nervously and her eyes dropped to the ground.

    ¡®It¡¯s that boy from Darius¡¯ mane, isn¡¯t it? El¡¯enur?¡¯ Ad¨¦lia met Nelesa¡¯s gaze in the mirror, and she knew. ¡®You¡¯re already good friends, are you not?¡¯

    ¡®Yes, my lady. But it seems¡­ well, I think he has eyes for everyone but me. Pardon me, but I know he fancies you, my lady.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia realised that one word held all her bitterness and longing. It held her distance and her pain. Her affection for the man who did not see her as she did him.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ Nelesa said, ¡®I spoke rashly. I do not bear any ill will toward you.¡¯

    ¡®El¡¯enur is foolhardy and overly confident. Yet, you truly care for him. I trust you to keep his head on straight. You know him better than anyone. He will see your strength and beauty one day.¡¯

    ¡®You know, for an archer he must have really poor eyesight,¡¯ Fen¡¯asel said. ¡®I mean, just look at you.¡¯

    Nelesa burst into laughter. ¡®You are too kind. Thank you.¡¯

    Fen¡¯asel continued her rant, but Ad¨¦lia¡¯s mind was now elsewhere. She was taken back to the scent of flowers and the sounds of family. She was at the table again in her cosy Luneder home. Her father and her mother sprang to life, ghosts from her memories resurrected, playing out the final scene before the fire.

    ¡®What is love, father?¡¯ Ad¨¦lia asked between bites of eggs and ham that tasted better than on other days. Her newly-given spear rested at the table, its constant glow a companion.

    ¡®Hmm?¡¯ Menkalinan mumbled as he looked up from his own meal. ¡®What has intrigued you?¡¯

    ¡®Old man Dronam gave me a rose today. He said that one day it is to be given to another in love.¡¯

    ¡®Ah, my dove, you are still so young. This may not make sense to you yet. But love is¡­ well, it is that which holds certain people together.¡¯

    ¡®Like you and mother?¡¯ she asked. Menkalinan stole a glance at Cassia, who toiled away at something, as she often did. Even though the feast was already laid out perfectly, Ad¨¦lia¡¯s mother found something to occupy herself with. She caught him staring and offered a smile back. No words needed be spoken. Perhaps it was then that Ad¨¦lia truly caught a glimpse of the connection between two souls in love.

    ¡®That is right,¡¯ he said, turning back to the table. ¡®Ad¨¦lia, the world around us is a sad thing in many ways. Light fades away and darkness creeps in. Fire dies down and cold settles. Hate drives men and women asunder. But love is the unquenchable force which holds us together when all else would pull apart. It is the will to fight for that precious spark, the decision to hold on.¡¯

    ¡®And one day I will meet someone who makes me feel like that?¡¯

    ¡®Not just feel, Ad¨¦lia. It will be someone who encourages you to act. For it will take more than feelings to keep that attraction. It will demand effort and sacrifice. But there is no more worthy cause to be devoted to.¡¯

    ¡®That is why we named you so, Ad¨¦lia,¡¯ her mother said as she neared the table and set another plate down. ¡®We hope you will embody the kind of love that holds back the crumbling of the world, the kind of strength and service that lays itself down for the good of others¡­¡¯

    ¡®And done!¡¯ Fen¡¯asel cried. Her voice tore through the memories. Ad¨¦lia was once again in the parlour of the Feast Hall. She looked at herself in the mirror. Fen¡¯asel¡¯s handiwork was complete and complemented by interspersed flowers. Bright yellows and whites arrayed her scarlet crown. She thanked Fen¡¯asel and rose just as Ulfen arrived. ¡®It¡¯s time,¡¯ the feastmaster announced.

    Ad¨¦lia and Nelesa walked toward the entrance of the Feast Hall. This may have been a night to forget the troubles wrought by an unloving tyrant and a malicious force, but it was also a night to remember fellowship and friends. It was a time to recall what one fought for. Because as the world fell apart, there were still threads holding people together. Unspoken bonds. Indescribable links which held off the advance of darkness and its separation. Even if she could no longer sense her own, Ad¨¦lia strived to strengthen them in those around her.

    * * *

    Asphales was surrounded by a crowd. He was lost in the bedlam of hundreds of roistering people. Though the night had barely begun, men were rowdily calling for drinks to slake their thirst. Mirth rang through the rafters, and filtering starlight mingled with the playful fires of the feast. Fara¡¯ethar knew how to throw a party, it seemed.

    Even the setting was foreign to Asphales, for he had never celebrated in anything larger than a tavern. The Feast Hall dwarfed the Waypoint inn, both in size and ornamentation. Dozens of tables seating up to twenty people lined the room in connected rows. They were arranged so as to allow easy viewing of a large stage framed by black curtains at the rear of the chamber. Currently, the stage was empty save for an unattended harp.

    Around the hall, exquisitely-shaped torches filled the gaps between windows. Banners sporting the Lion of Anardes in black and gold hung beneath these lamps. Higher up, among the beams and overpassing arches of engraved steel, ornate chandeliers were suspended along the room¡¯s breadth. The entire hall was bathed in dazzling gold light.

    No feast was complete without its accompanying smells, of course. Whereas the aroma of drink floated aplenty, overpowering even the collective odour of closely-packed guests, a fresh, more pleasant smell began wafting in from the kitchens. Asphales suspected the Empire had spared no expense catering for an occasion such as this.

    At his own table, Asphales was seated with only a few people he recognised. A few seats across from him, Valinos was chatting to someone. Farther down at a table, Amarant Darius, Nadros, and El¡¯enur were enjoying conversation and their drink. Asphales also picked out Guldar easily in the crowd. No matter how he looked at it, the grizzled commander reminded him of a boulder. Sturdy and solid. Only this boulder could speak and spit and drink.

    Master Arhavel was sipping his brew quietly next to him. He seemed to be the only reserved person among the boisterous throng.

    ¡®What are we celebrating?¡¯ Asphales asked the old man. ¡®Does this happen every year?¡¯

    Arhavel downed more of his drink before answering. ¡®It¡¯s called the Feast of Starlight. Yes, every year we do this. But I¡¯m sure you know why this night is special. We¡¯re celebrating you, master Asphales. We celebrate hope. So come, drink up.¡¯ The scholar raised his mug again, waiting for a toast. Asphales lifted his wine goblet. The vessels clinked and Asphales braced himself for the fiery sensation pouring down his throat.

    ¡®Are scholars shy of something with a strong kick, Arhavel?¡¯ the man directly across from Asphales asked. ¡®Is this the year you try a real drink?¡¯ The man¡¯s complexion was one of angles and jagged edges. His simple, square face and neatly trimmed but whitening beard commended his respectability. A warrior, perhaps.

    ¡®We¡¯re not exactly afraid,¡¯ the older man retorted, ¡®but it does cloud the judgment, I find. And some of us have to get to work in the morning.¡¯

    The man chuckled. ¡®You learned types are a riot.¡¯ He then turned to Asphales and a look of recognition crossed his face. ¡®You¡¯re the lad I toppled over on my way out. Sorry about that, boy. Darius¡¯ horse is a bit of a wild one.¡¯

    Asphales recalled the incident. He had been too distracted to mind it much. ¡®No harm done,¡¯ he said.

    ¡®Ishak Rynell,¡¯ the man said with an offered hand.

    ¡®Asphales Es¨¦linor,¡¯ he answered, returning the gesture.

    ¡®Yeah, you¡¯re the talk of the castle, boy. You and Lady Catena both. I never guessed that things would turn out this way for my own commander.¡¯

    ¡®Oh, you¡¯re the infantry mane¡¯s second-in-command.¡¯

    ¡®Bah,¡¯ Ishak blurted. ¡®At this feast, I¡¯m just another man like you, enjoying a drink.¡¯

    ¡®At least you handle your spear half as well as you do your drink, Ishak,¡¯ Arhavel said with a smile. ¡®Otherwise, you¡¯d be out of a job.¡¯

    Ishak smiled and toasted the older man. ¡®To honest work and honourable friends.¡¯

    Asphales took another swig. Just then, a bright flash shone for a moment in the direction of the chief table. All heads in the room turned toward the spectacle and conversations died down. The noise significantly dropped. Amaleron was standing, staff in hand. Asphales noticed servants moving into position around the hall.

    Arhavel groaned. ¡®That¡¯s one way to grab our attention, old man.¡¯

    ¡®Beloved guests, it is my pleasure to welcome you to this year¡¯s Feast of Starlight,¡¯ the steward said. ¡®Tonight we rejoice in hope and in friendship. By all means, enjoy yourselves. Meals will come out momentarily. Prior to that, however, we do have a very special performance.¡¯ The steward sat back down briskly.

    On cue, the lights around the room went out. Only the dim, golden glow of the chandeliers remained. The curtains of the stage rolled back and two figures emerged. Two women took up position, one by the harp, one closer to the edge of the platform. Asphales suddenly realised that the woman about to sing was none other than Ad¨¦lia. She appeared different, dressed in a rich, silver gown, but it was her unmistakeable scarlet hair that identified her. And even from this distance the radiance of her emerald eyes was salient.

    As the harp strings started to resonate, sending out pensive melodies, the room hushed. All were drawn in. And Ad¨¦lia sang. Her longing voice filled the song in the way sweet spring envelops a forest after frost.

    Caressed by wind and touched by water soft

    The forest trees so sigh and sing and swoon

    My home enveloped shut yet held aloft

    Alive with sun and threads of sleeping moon

    Between the dark above and black below

    My heart at rest in wealds where nights abound

    Beneath the wand¡¯ring gaze of glittered glow

    Suspended, lost, and yet completely found

    Far older than the woods and now awake

    Ten thousand eyes that keep a vigil sight

    On passing tide, a dusk our time won¡¯t shake

    But longer still I¡¯ll wait for morning bright

    Wherein the flowers hidden things confide

    There ever and forever I¡¯ll abide

    When the song ended, each person still reeled silently. There was no thunderous applause. Not immediately. The feast hall held its breath as the last notes plucked on the harp faded and the final chord resolved. It savoured the vanishing echoes of Ad¨¦lia¡¯s ballad.

    Then a steady rising chant and cheer.

    Clapping like the long crash of a deafening ocean wave.

    Ad¨¦lia bowed. Asphales watched her. His eyes latched onto her smile, all paper-thin and frail. It was the most beautiful and broken thing he¡¯d ever seen.

    It was a long time after the torches were relit that conversation picked up again and liveliness returned.

    ¡®Now that doesn¡¯t happen every year,¡¯ Arhavel said as he finally turned away from the stage. ¡®So rare to be serenaded by the likes of Lady Catena herself. It¡¯s lovely to see their talents used outside of the battlefield.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m real good with numbers,¡¯ Ishak offered, ¡®but that helps out in wartime as well.¡¯ He shrugged. ¡®So you could say I¡¯m multi-talented. What are you going to do, Arhavel? Hit someone over the head with a book?¡¯

    ¡®If I had one on hand, I just might.¡¯

    Asphales snickered as he sipped his goblet. Here were two men who represented both of his interests at odds with one another. He breathed contentedly as the wine finally took its pleasurable effect. Asphales was starting to enjoy the feast, the chaos of being crammed among countless people revelling in the night. Even if, as was the case in front of him, that sometimes led to friendly banter and mild insults.

    Both scholar and soldier were distracted from their squabble when servants burst through the doors carrying platters. Food was the great equaliser, it seemed. Most of the feast hall¡¯s attention was diverted once more as eager guests were on the lookout for workers visiting their tables.

    Asphales recognised the maid from the Commons leading the procession. She was coordinating with a man across the room, speedily delivering meals to each table. This was the first time he had glimpsed the other master in charge of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s banquets, trade, and commerce. Young, handsome, and well-built, the man moved around the room with dark and distinctive, windswept hair.

    Other servants followed in pairs, hauling large trays filled with pork ribs and lamb chops or delivering pots of stew. Men called out their thanks as the clatter of plates landing on tables filled the evening.

    Soon, the master of banquet raced to Asphales¡¯ table. She appeared to be competing with the other man to see who could serve more dishes. Since Asphales¡¯ table was set up near the centre of the room, both feastmasters arrived simultaneously. It was the woman who placed Asphales¡¯ meal down. His plate was chocked full of food. The beef cut served in mushroom gravy, battered fish slices, salted potatoes, carrots and olives, and varied salads more numerous than he could name, all set his mouth watering. Buttered bread rolls and cream-garnished garlic loaves quickly accompanied the main dish.

    ¡®Thank you,¡¯ he said.

    The woman nodded and then returned to her duties. As she stepped back, the two feastmasters bumped into each other. They held one another¡¯s gaze for just a second longer than they should have, and in that moment Asphales saw it. There was strong infatuation between them but neither was willing to disclose their feelings. Both of them stole surreptitious glances like shooting stars when the other turned away.

    ¡®Ulfen and Filarin have really outdone themselves this year,¡¯ Ishak said between mouthfuls.

    Asphales sliced a chunk of his beef and brought it to his mouth. The quality of the meat was exquisite indeed. Succulent, perfectly cooked, and spiced with incredible aromas, the beef left its delightful presence long after it went down. And yet Asphales could not take his mind off what he had seen. He wondered if others knew of the feastmasters¡¯ attraction. He looked around, but all eyes were fixed on meals, and all mouths were busy either chewing or chatting with their immediate neighbours.

    ¡®Ishak, I don¡¯t mean to pry,¡¯ Asphales said, ¡®but is there something going on between the two masters of the feast?¡¯

    ¡®Hmm? Oh, Ulfen and Filarin?¡¯ Ishak paused as he wolfed down a large portion of meat and a helping of potatoes. ¡®Those two are hopelessly in love and unaware. Everyone knows it. But there¡¯s nothing wrong with that. Carinae made us to love.¡¯

    Asphales smiled and took another bite of his meal.

    ¡®Not that it¡¯s my business, but do you fancy anyone?¡¯ Ishak asked, leaning in. ¡®Is there someone waiting back home?¡¯

    ¡®Back there?¡¯ Asphales said, ¡®No. There was a girl once. We were both very young. We promised each other but it came to nothing. As we grew older, the prejudices of the place I lived in took over and she was given to someone else in marriage.¡¯

    ¡®Sorry to hear that. Forgive my prying, young man, but is there anyone you¡¯ve met here, then? I know you haven¡¯t been here all that long, but is there someone who¡¯s taken your interest?¡¯

    Asphales unintentionally let his gaze wander. He eyed Ad¨¦lia, who was now sitting at a nearby table. Asphales could not deny it. He felt something for her. From his initial meeting with the knight among the flowers in Gohenur, something had drawn him to this woman. More than her beauty, more than her poise, more than her kind demeanour. It went beyond her wisdom, her skill with song and spear, her generosity. Asphales could not yet place it, but he knew he longed for her in a way unlike anything he had felt before. He turned back to the conversation. Ishak had caught it. He knew.

    ¡®Ah, so that¡¯s how it is,¡¯ Ishak said. His voice was solemn.

    ¡®I¡ª¡¯

    ¡®I don¡¯t blame you, boy. She¡¯s strong, beautiful. Countless men have set their sights on her over time. But she has warded them all off. Not for fickleness or indecision, you see. Not because of some smug sense of superiority or distance.¡¯ Ishak considered his next words and lowered his voice. ¡®I warn you, she is¡­ broken. I don¡¯t know from what, I don¡¯t know if anyone does, but she is hurt. That girl is in need of mending.

    ¡®Some design has bound you two together as children of starlight. I can¡¯t imagine the loneliness she¡¯s felt over the years. Or the relief that washed over her when she found you, another one like her. Look, she may not need someone to win her heart right now. I hope you know that. But she does need someone by her side. Someone with whom to share this task. You both do.¡¯

    Asphales weighed the man¡¯s words. ¡®Thank you, Ishak. I won¡¯t do anything imprudent.¡¯

    ¡®I pray you don¡¯t. You¡¯re a fine man, Asphales. I¡¯m not sure what will come of this, but be patient, lad.¡¯

    Asphales nodded. Ishak pulled away back to his seat, finished his ale, and stretched his neck. Sounds of the party seemed to bleed back in. ¡®I could do with more food,¡¯ he said. ¡®I think I will grab some of the pork ribs. You want any?¡¯

    ¡®Yes, please.¡¯

    Ishak stood up and wandered off into the cacophony of the feast, hunting for trays that had not been picked clean. Asphales remained with his reflections. He stared into his swirling cup. He though back to the commander¡¯s words as the ripples settled.

    Then, music picked up again in the Feast Hall, distracting him. Figures re-emerged on the stage. The same harpist as earlier took up position. This time, however, a male and a female joined her. The two figures danced as a rolling melody erupted from her instrument. Other musicians came out also. She was accompanied by an energetic lutist who could not have been older than fifteen. A percussionist appeared last of all, driving the rhythm of the piece and occasioning cheers and claps from the audience. The two dancing figures weaved in and out of each other¡¯s grasp. Their spinning motions threw up blurs of colour. Finally, their movements slowed, they drew close together, and the two began a duet of entwining voices.

    How strange the turnings of the mortal heart

    No mind can fathom or unveil its will

    Were I to halt its force or tempt to still

    In wonder wrapped

    How strong does love its scrutiny impart

    Somewhere beyond a blizzard and its bliss

    Our passion burns, a ripe and reddened flame

    Were I to snuff its heat or try to tame

    I would be trapped

    Somewhere between a kindle and a kiss

    The onlookers showered their approval vocally. Many stood to offer their enthusiastic ovation. Even the man sitting to the left of Asphales, a scarred, burly warrior with seemingly no artistic bone in his body, whistled his appreciation. Amidst this acclamation, Ishak returned, apparently oblivious to what the spectators had witnessed.

    ¡®What did I miss?¡¯ he asked as he sat down with two plates of juicy pork ribs. He slid one across to Asphales.

    ¡®Just a cultured performance,¡¯ Arhavel quipped, ¡®nothing you would¡¯ve appreciated.¡¯ The scholar turned to Asphales and winked.

    Ishak muttered something unpleasant, but the force of his words was muffled by a mouthful of pork.

    ¡®You¡¯re just proving my point, Rynell,¡¯ said Arhavel while taking a smug sip of his drink.

    Asphales laughed as he bit into a pork rib. Juices seeped into his mouth and the taste overwhelmed him. ¡®Is it always like this around here?¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t be misled,¡¯ Ishak said, ¡®we also get up to serious business at Fara¡¯ethar. When we have time.¡¯

    Arhavel chuckled and set his mug down. ¡®But nights like this are all too rare. So go on, master Asphales, smile and jest. Show the world that the Dragonking could not take away our joy.¡¯

    ¡®And as for what has been stolen,¡¯ Ishak said, ¡®we will stand and fight and take it all back. How does that sound, lad? Could you get behind that cause?¡¯

    Asphales looked around, taking in the festivities once more. This was what held people together in the wake of devastation. The coming force of darkness would silence all the songs and crush all bonds of fellowship. It would merely destroy. Asphales determined not to let that happen.

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ he said. ¡®I could.¡¯

    * * *

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Darius smiled as the warm touch of the ale settled in his stomach and the ridiculous flair of El¡¯enur¡¯s story raptly drew in the listeners around his table. The Amarant noted with some disapproval that several of the handmaidens had been distracted from their task to listen to him. Still, Darius had to hand it to El¡¯enur. He knew how to hold a crowd.

    ¡®So there I was,¡¯ the young archer said, ¡®about two hundred yards from the creature. An unearthly fog had come down and I could barely see a thing. It was cold. My hands were unsteady on the bow. My fingers trembled.¡¯

    ¡®Maybe ¡®cause you were scared,¡¯ Guldar offered as he took a draught of beer. Clearly, he was not enamoured with the tale.

    ¡®Shh,¡¯ El¡¯enur snapped. ¡®Let me tell the story.¡¯ Guldar mocked a gesture of deferral.

    ¡®I was crouched in a thicket,¡¯ El¡¯enur continued, returning to his perch and waving his goblet, ¡®and I knew in front of me somewhere, death waited. It was time to act. I strained my eyes and ears in the dark. There was a rustle ahead. I calmed myself, took a breath¡¯¡ªEl¡¯enur paused dramatically, mimicking the action¡ª¡®and released the arrow.¡¯

    ¡®What happened next?¡¯ spoke an enraptured voice.

    ¡®He woke up,¡¯ Guldar cut in. Those seated around him roared in laughter. Nadros spit out his beer and banged on the table. Darius simply chuckled and shook his head.

    El¡¯enur scowled but continued on unperturbed once the laughter died down. ¡®No, the beast collapsed with a shriek that filled the night. Then I heard nothing more but the falling snow. I had won.¡¯ He sat down triumphantly. ¡®And that¡¯s how I took down a Kerenan bear.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s ludicrous,¡¯ Nadros said, ¡®but I¡¯m sure this is why we all love dining with you, El¡¯enur.¡¯

    ¡®Mind you, Darius here did the same thing,¡¯ Guldar said. ¡®He was younger, too.¡¯

    ¡®And he has the proof, right there on his shoulders,¡¯ one of the men pointed out, running his hand over the fur around Darius¡¯ neck.

    Darius fixed a cold stare onto the man. ¡®Don¡¯t touch the pelt,¡¯ he said. ¡®Last time someone did¡­ well, let¡¯s just say he had to eat with his feet.¡¯

    The man drew his hand back as if he had just touched a hot stove. El¡¯enur and Guldar turned away, pursing their lips as if attempting to hold something in. Then they both burst into laughter.

    ¡®I¡¯m joking, of course,¡¯ Darius said. The man chuckled nervously, but was still visibly relieved to still be in possession of his hands.

    ¡®That¡¯s an old one,¡¯ El¡¯enur said. ¡®You need some new material.¡¯

    ¡®Like El¡¯enur here,¡¯ Guldar chimed. ¡®He¡¯s always spinning new tales from who-knows-where.¡¯

    ¡®What really happened, Darius?¡¯ asked Nadros. ¡®Did El¡¯enur actually slay such a beast?¡¯

    ¡®He did,¡¯ Darius said. But before the crowd¡¯s admiration got too out of hand, he added, ¡®a small one.¡¯

    El¡¯enur shrugged. ¡®A win is a win.¡¯ He signalled to one of the servants for a drink. The maid came by, carrying a pitcher, and refilled his goblet. Several others at the table did likewise.

    ¡®Would you like anything else, sirs?¡¯ she asked.

    ¡®The pleasure of your company,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, ¡®preferably away from these boors.¡¯

    There was a collective groan from those seated around him. Darius thumped the young man with his foot under the table. ¡®What he means to say is: Thank you for the drink,¡¯ he said.

    ¡®And another coffee for me, please,¡¯ Guldar requested.

    The servant nodded and rushed off.

    ¡®Look at that, Guldar,¡¯ said El¡¯enur, ¡®always scaring the ladies away.¡¯

    ¡®Weren¡¯t you just swooning over Lady Catena a few minutes ago?¡¯

    ¡®Aye, she was fantastic,¡¯ El¡¯enur began elatedly, ¡®like a¡­ like a full moon on a cloudy night. Except, I mean, you can see this moon. And it¡¯s beautiful and silver. So, she was more like a¡­¡¯

    ¡®What?¡¯ Nadros asked, cringing.

    ¡®Pipe down before you hurt yourself,¡¯ Guldar said. ¡®I know you loved the song but even I can tell poetry isn¡¯t your thing, boy.¡¯

    ¡®Just like style isn¡¯t yours,¡¯ El¡¯enur said under his breath, running a hand through his rich, golden hair. Nadros chuckled, seemingly having caught the archer¡¯s quip.

    Darius glanced at the stage. Young Nelesa was still on there, plucking away a gentle melody on her harp. He sighed inwardly and turned back to the table. Oh, El¡¯enur. Darius looked at the young man, so confident and yet so ignorant. So competent and yet so untested in life¡¯s matters. The Amarant had appointed El¡¯enur not simply because of his skill, but because he was reminded of himself. Or rather, what he would have been like had he remained uncorrupted and pure.

    Darius wanted to groom El¡¯enur into a young leader without the bitterness that war-torn age brings. A leader who knew what he fought for. Unclouded by deception and mistakes. Sure, the lad had a big head. He was oblivious to many things. But he had a good heart. Time would teach him wisdom and humility.

    Just then, a chair scraped noisily against the stone floor. A figure pulled up and sat at the table. Lilac perfume made a woman¡¯s presence known. She had luscious black hair tied in a bun, full lips the colour of sunset, and a shapely face¡ªhigh cheekbones and nary a wrinkle on her unmarred, tanned skin. Her slender form was garbed in a formal velvet jerkin donned over a white shirt with flared sleeves and jet leather trousers. Although she wore nothing ostentatious¡ªcertainly nothing as elaborate as some of the other women in their dresses¡ªshe still carried herself with an air of dignity.

    ¡®Evening, boys,¡¯ she said, eyeing the seated men sharply. Her jade eyes leered wolfishly beneath sharp, arched eyebrows. She tapped on the table with polished fingernails, as if awaiting recognition.

    ¡®Leara, is that you?¡¯ Nadros asked. ¡®Blackened bones, what¡¯s happened to you? Didn¡¯t recognise you without your hat.¡¯

    ¡®Some nights call for something new,¡¯ she said with a dismissing wave of her arm. The men around the table followed her motions like children fixated on a magician¡¯s sleight-of-hand.

    ¡®Hi there,¡¯ El¡¯enur said. ¡®I¡­ uh¡­¡¯

    ¡®Get a hold of yourselves, you bloody fools,¡¯ Leara said suddenly, dropping the act of the seductress, an act that Darius was sure had left them all short of breath. Her gaze changed, her posture shifted. Her voice abandoned honey-smoothness and took on the rough edges of the sea. Leara returned to being her regular self, the hardy sub-commander of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s navy. Beautiful, no less.

    ¡®Well, if we ever need a man¡­ distracted,¡¯ Nadros said, ¡®we know whom to call on.¡¯

    ¡®Can¡¯t say I¡¯ll oblige,¡¯ she retorted. ¡®I know my way around a ship far better than any beauty parade. I don¡¯t see the use of this is at sea.¡¯

    ¡®We were just surprised to see you out of your work attire.¡¯

    ¡®What, I can¡¯t dress womanly, Guldar?¡¯ she said with a smile.

    ¡®Where have you been, Lady Arandel?¡¯ asked Darius.

    Leara signalled for a drink. ¡®Well, some of us had business to attend to. Old man, we¡¯re leaving for Sanaros tomorrow,¡¯ she said, pointing an accusatory finger at Nadros. ¡®The Golden Sunset would lie anchored and useless if it weren¡¯t for me.¡¯

    ¡®Always trust you with the paperwork, I say,¡¯ the old sailor said with a wink.

    ¡®Did you just get here now?¡¯ El¡¯enur asked.

    Leara scrunched her features and looked over vaguely to the other side of the hall. ¡®No. I was cajoled into sitting with ¡®my own kind¡¯ at first. Those despicable dames. But you know how my mother is. Had to play my part. Still, I grew tired of the gossip.¡¯

    ¡®So you sought better company,¡¯ Darius offered.

    ¡®Well, certainly not cleaner company on the outside. But there¡¯s no one else I¡¯d trust to have my back.¡¯

    The men at the table laughed and raised their drinking vessels.

    ¡®You are beautiful woman,¡¯ said Kelon suddenly. He was a man who shared Guldar¡¯s origin but not his proficiency in the common tongue. The former mercenary loomed over the table, his size and build customary of the mountain folk. His face may have been fetching once, but was now decorated with scars. The man¡¯s nose had also seen better days. Sandstone-coloured hair sat unruly atop his head. Kelon¡¯s mouth bore the marks of severe damage, and when he spoke, his voice had all the melodious quality of a grindstone.

    ¡®What was that?¡¯ Leara asked, leaning over to the man who had spoken so openly.

    ¡®Among my people, green is colour of beauty,¡¯ Kelon said.

    ¡®Would you like to find out the colour of blood?¡¯ she asked testily. ¡®Among my people, it¡¯s the mark of a good beating.¡¯

    Leara¡¯s comments drew more laughter from those around the table. Kelon himself took it in good jest and smiled. ¡®You are tough,¡¯ he said. ¡®Is good.¡¯

    ¡®Darius, who is this?¡¯ asked Leara.

    ¡®Kelon here is a new recruit into the mane. Sellsword from Undorn looking to fight for something proper. Known him since way back in Sanaros.¡¯ At his introduction, Kelon straightened up. The motion flexed his considerable muscles, which were barely covered by the fur vest he wore.

    ¡®So, you are replacing Ledner,¡¯ Leara said. ¡®May he and all his men find rest.¡¯

    ¡®Is right. I grateful to Darius for offer to join.¡¯

    ¡®Hope he fights better than he speaks,¡¯ she said.

    ¡®I can vouch for that,¡¯ Darius said simply.

    A maid finally came around with Leara¡¯s drink. She took it and began to swig it immediately. ¡®Something with a real bite at last,¡¯ she said, clearly relishing its flavour. ¡®Well, at least there¡¯s that. You¡¯re one of us now, Kelon.¡¯ She raised her mug. ¡®To brothers in arms.¡¯

    ¡®And brothers of blood,¡¯ El¡¯enur added as he joined the toast. The others repeated the words. They raised their cups to the fallen captain¡¯s memory. There was a moment of silence, a pocket of solemnity in the midst of the feast¡¯s frivolity. The cups clanked down in unison.

    ¡®So, what¡¯d I miss?¡¯ Leara asked.

    ¡®Just the usual,¡¯ Guldar said. ¡®El¡¯enur here attempted to flirt with every maiden in sight.¡¯ El¡¯enur scoffed.

    Leara rolled her eyes. ¡®Remember what happened when he tried that on Lady Catena?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯d rather not,¡¯ the archer said petulantly.

    Nadros chuckled. ¡®I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve heard this story. What did she do to him?¡¯

    Leara leaned in conspiratorially. ¡®Well, the lady was too gentle to do anything. But Darius here¡­¡¯ All eyes turned to the Amarant.

    Darius laughed. ¡®I did what was needed to teach him a lesson.¡¯

    El¡¯enur rubbed at imaginary soreness on his arm. ¡®Couldn¡¯t shoot straight for a tide. I was young and foolish to go after her.¡¯

    ¡®Has anything changed?¡¯ Guldar goaded. ¡®You just picked the girl with the meanest guard dog. You¡¯ve got no one but yourself to blame when he bites.¡¯

    Darius smiled and took a drink. ¡®Ah, that was back before the lady was even an Amarant. El¡¯enur had just joined the mane.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯ve had more successes since then,¡¯ El¡¯enur said proudly.

    ¡®I¡¯d hoped you¡¯d matured as well,¡¯ Leara said.

    ¡®Well, the lad could become the youngest Amarant,¡¯ Nadros said. ¡®Lady Catena was twenty-one. He hasn¡¯t even hit twenty.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m too humble to take that position. My current status is just fine.¡¯

    ¡®You?¡¯ Guldar burst. ¡®You¡¯re as humble as a drunken king!¡¯

    ¡®So you agree I am a king! That¡¯s right, I wouldn¡¯t want to be showing up our dear Amarant here at half his age.¡¯ El¡¯enur offered Darius a pitying look.

    Darius laughed. ¡®Watch it, boy. I could make that damage more¡­ permanent.¡¯

    ¡®You wouldn¡¯t cripple your best archer,¡¯ El¡¯enur said.

    ¡®If I hadn¡¯t loved the sea more than weapons,¡¯ Leara said, ¡®I likely would have broken you on my way to the top.¡¯

    Kelon guffawed at her comment. Nadros had trouble keeping his beer in once again. People from other tables looked on at the revelry, confused.

    ¡®How about you, old man?¡¯ Leara said, turning to the sailor. ¡®Ready to pass on your position? You¡¯re so ancient you may as well be an Elder!¡¯

    ¡®Now hang on there just a minute,¡¯ Nadros retorted, ¡®I prefer to think of myself as well-lived. I could tell you young¡¯uns a thousand stories. You¡¯ve got much to learn.¡¯

    ¡®I have story to tell,¡¯ said Kelon eagerly. ¡®Once there was man who try take me on. We fight for glory of mountains and hand of maiden.¡¯

    ¡®And? What happened?¡¯

    ¡®His skull crack like oranges.¡¯

    Guldar cracked up uncontrollably. Everyone else was left in stone-faced silence.

    ¡®That¡¯s not a story, you oaf,¡¯ Leara said. Kelon shrugged.

    ¡®Oh, you don¡¯t get it,¡¯ Guldar said, wiping tears. ¡®In our dialect, ¡®orange¡¯ sounds like¡­ ah, never mind.¡¯

    ¡®Well, I didn¡¯t choose him for his storytelling,¡¯ Darius said with a chuckle. ¡®But if he can do that in battle, I¡¯m all for it. Now, let¡¯s drink up and make the most of this night.¡¯

    Leara narrowed her eyes at the Amarant. ¡®You¡¯re looking more relaxed, Darius. We should have you around more like this.¡¯

    ¡®Heh,¡¯ Darius said, raising his shoulders.

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ Guldar said. ¡®Take things easier, man.¡¯ Darius met his friend¡¯s gaze. Unspoken tension passed between them. He knew what the sub-commander was referring to.

    ¡®Alright,¡¯ Leara announced, ¡®I¡¯m going to find more food. Those dames eat like birds. If anyone wants anything¡¯¡ªthose at the table looked up hopefully¡ª¡®they¡¯ll have to get it themselves. Keep these clods out of trouble, Darius.¡¯ She rose and left, taking the lilac scent with her. Heads turned to watch her pass through. The crowd parted like leaves before the wind.

    ¡®You know,¡¯ Nadros said quietly as he leaned over to the Amarant, ¡®men would be jealous if they saw how she looks at you.¡¯

    ¡®Ah, I have not noticed,¡¯ Darius lied.

    ¡®Never thought about it? She¡¯s, what, thirty and not spoken for. Ever had a mind to settle down?¡¯

    ¡®No,¡¯ he said darkly. ¡®I don¡¯t deserve anyone like that.¡¯ He folded his hands together, not wishing to discuss it further. Nadros pouted and returned to his place, running a hand through his beard.

    ¡®There¡¯s my coffee,¡¯ Guldar exclaimed as a servant came around with a jug. She refilled his mug. ¡®Thank you,¡¯ he said.

    Kelon sneered. ¡®Is drink for goats.¡¯

    Guldar placed his mug down gently after taking a sip. ¡®Kelon here never learned what it means to be civilised.¡¯

    ¡®If you¡¯re civilised,¡¯ El¡¯enur quipped, ¡®then I am a rainbow horse.¡¯

    ¡®Civility is for old men,¡¯ said Kelon.

    ¡®Alright,¡¯ Guldar declared as he pushed his mug away and pulled up the sleeves of his cuffed shirt, ¡®let¡¯s settle this.¡¯ The two men cleared their area of the table and linked arms. A traditional contest of strength. ¡®Darius, you mind startin¡¯ us off?¡¯

    Darius shrugged and checked that their hands were level. He tapped their arms to signal the beginning of the arm wrestle.

    Almost immediately, the strain on the contestants¡¯ arms made the table quiver. El¡¯enur and Nadros looked on bewildered. Darius watched the men face off. Their arms bulged under the stress and their faces constrained with tension.

    ¡®Oi, they¡¯s having a duel,¡¯ someone called out. More onlookers arrived, crowding the table. Darius noticed Guldar¡¯s children, Sela and Feri, snake through bodies to sneak a look at their father.

    ¡®Make it beautiful, Guldar,¡¯ said Darius, ¡®you¡¯ve got a lot of admirers.¡¯

    ¡®Do it, da!¡¯ Feri cried.

    Guldar grunted. With one forceful push, he slammed Kelon¡¯s hand into the table. A loud clatter came down as the spectators¡¯ cheers went up. The man groaned in pain. Guldar raised his hands victoriously and bellowed a war cry.

    ¡®For goat, you fight very good,¡¯ Kelon said, panting.

    ¡®Thank you. Ah, I¡¯m on fire. Darius, how about a round?¡¯

    Without a word, Darius took up position. Kelon moved over. Guldar cracked his hands in preparation. The crowd took up their chant, one half shouting for the Amarant, the other supporting the burly commander.

    ¡®Are you a betting man?¡¯ El¡¯enur asked Nadros.

    But no sooner had Kelon readied the men than Guldar¡¯s arm crashed into the table. The crowd hushed. Mouths gaped open.

    Then laughter broke out.

    ¡®What¡¯s in your arms, man?¡¯ Guldar whimpered as he massaged his wrist. ¡®Steel and stone?¡¯

    ¡®Kerenan blood.¡¯

    ¡®Wolf stronger than goat,¡¯ Kelon commented.

    ¡®How about I interest you in another kind of contest?¡¯ Guldar collected his dignity and reached into the coat hanging by his chair. He brought out a deck of cards. Darius sighed.

    ¡®Do you always have simeh on hand?¡¯ El¡¯enur asked.

    ¡®Always. Now, this¡¯ll teach you some humility, boy. Because sometimes in life you¡¯ll run into somethin¡¯ insurmountable. That¡¯s me with cards in my hand.¡¯

    ¡®Can you even still hold them, after what Darius did?¡¯ El¡¯enur taunted.

    Guldar bared his teeth impolitely at the young archer then faced the crowd. ¡®Anyone here¡¯s free to join,¡¯ he said in a challenging tone as he shuffled the cards. ¡®You in as well, Darius? You won¡¯t win this one easily.¡¯

    The Amarant smiled. Leara was right. His usual guarded and tensed nature was eased. He felt the tension slacken, like a taut pulley relieved of its load. Darius still bore the flame, but here at Fara¡¯ethar, in this moment, he belonged like fire in a hearth. It was not destructive. Could he once more be a warming ember rather than a scorching coal?

    ¡®I¡¯ll do it, why not? I¡¯ll show you how the wolf preys.¡¯

    * * *

    Valinos stuffed another slice of honey-balsamic marinaded lamb into his mouth and looked around the Feast Hall. He wondered why Fen¡¯asel was tarrying. She had said she would meet him. He could not pick her out anywhere in the mass of heads and bodies spread before him. After a moment, he took a nervous bite of potato and downed it with a strange-tasting cider. Acrid hints of apple left their mark on his tongue.

    Some of his table had cleared out, dispersed to see some petty strength contest. His previous conversation partner, a sailor with a penchant for crudeness, had left as well. The man had expressed his disbelief at current events with artfully crafted curses and now seemed interested in the competition with equally coloured admiration. But the excitement was short-lived. The commotion had died down with a plate-rattling slam. Valinos¡¯ money was on Amarant Darius.

    A woman with raven hair and jade eyes carrying a dish strolled toward their table. Valinos recognised her as the navy¡¯s sub-commander from the meeting a tide ago. A faint, pleasant fragrance crept into his nostrils as she passed by. She seemed alarmed by the goings-on at Darius¡¯ table and picked up her pace.

    ¡®I take my eyes off you for one moment and you wreck the place,¡¯ she yelled. ¡®Leave any fun for me, at least?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m happy to have your eyes back on me,¡¯ El¡¯enur called out.

    ¡®Shut up.¡¯

    The woman¡¯s companions laughed. El¡¯enur retreated with a dejected look. Valinos would have observed their antics longer had a figure not approached his table and taken a seat. He spun, but it was not Fen¡¯asel sitting across from him.

    ¡®I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve met you, lad,¡¯ an older man said. ¡®Hasel Erilen, at your service.¡¯ He had a pleasant voice, befitting his kindly appearance. Mellow eyes peered under sagging brows, but they were a keen, lively brown. His beard framed a gentle face and barely clung on to the colour of its youth, whereas the man¡¯s hair had abandoned all hope. Solitary strands stuck out near his ears like patchy vegetation on a cliff side. The top of his head was as barren and pocked as the full moon. Still, dressed in an ultramarine silken doublet, Hasel comported himself with propriety.

    But beside all this, Valinos realised something crucial. This was the man in charge of Birdswatch. He had finally come face to face with someone who may provide answers.

    ¡®Good evening. Valinos of Silnod¨¬r.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, I know. I¡¯ve been meaning to talk to you, if you have a moment.¡¯

    Valinos took another sip of his drink. ¡®That makes two of us.¡¯

    ¡®You see, certain rumours have reached my ears.¡¯

    ¡®Oh?¡¯ For a moment, Valinos worried. The man before him was also Fen¡¯asel¡¯s father, after all. Perhaps he would bring up the subject of how much time he had spent with the girl lately.

    ¡®Yes, I am not quite sure what to think of these¡­ disturbing developments. I am told you accompanied Asphales Es¨¦linor and the Imperial guard. What brings you to Fara¡¯ethar?¡¯

    ¡®A very curious message.¡¯ Valinos breathed a sigh of relief, disguising it as an appreciative sigh of the cider.

    ¡®That¡¯s precisely what I want to speak about. What can you tell me of it?¡¯

    ¡®Well, it was brought by Gidius as we set out. Captain Ledner received it and reported nothing suspicious. He was concerned, but showed us the contents. It read ¡®Bring the armourer¡¯s apprentice also.¡¯ That¡¯s me. That¡¯s how I got here.¡¯ Valinos left the words hanging.

    Hasel¡¯s eyes widened, but what flashed on the man¡¯s face did not seem to be the recognition Valinos had been seeking. Hasel had caught on to something else. His lips twitched and his eyebrows furrowed.

    ¡®Hmm,¡¯ he intoned, ¡®that does seem troubling. The armourer¡¯s apprentice¡­ So you¡¯re Paran¡¯s boy.¡¯

    The words caught him like a sudden storm. ¡®What?¡¯

    ¡®How is your father doing?¡¯

    Valinos wanted to correct him. To confess that he despised the man. To reveal that he was galled by the notion of Paran¡¯s fatherhood. ¡®Fine. So you know Paran?¡¯ was all he could say.

    ¡®Aye. You were a wee lad when I first came by. Not surprised you don¡¯t remember. Back eighteen-course or so we had heard of a skilled smithy in the north. I was sent to negotiate and to establish a messaging system. That¡¯s how Fara¡¯ethar ended up enlisting the services of Silnod¨¬r¡¯s arms and armour production. I offered Paran a chance to move closer, at least south of the Valarion, but he refused every time. Said he liked it there. So, easiest way to keep in contact is through the eagles.¡¯

    ¡®Huh. Is that so?¡¯

    ¡®Aye. I haven¡¯t actually seen the man in quite a few years. He always said he¡¯d rear you up to follow his steps. Still, who would have thought I¡¯d run into his son in such circumstances?¡¯

    ¡®So then¡­ the message.¡¯

    ¡®Right,¡¯ he said, snapping as if from a long diversion. ¡®Sorry, it just took me by surprise is all.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m as surprised as you are, sir.¡¯

    Hasel gestured dismissively. ¡®Ah, don¡¯t worry about the sir, boy. It¡¯s like you¡¯re trying to pamper me for something. Far as I¡¯m concerned, you¡¯re like a family friend. Now, what I¡¯ve to say about the message isn¡¯t so pleasant. I have no memory of writing such a thing.¡¯

    The disappointment came like the blast of a lightning strike.

    ¡®If that¡¯s truly what you read,¡¯ Hasel continued, his features crinkling into unease for the first time, ¡®then we still have to figure this one out.¡¯

    Valinos¡¯ face fell. So this was it. The trail had led to a fruitless end. He could not help tightening his fists. He felt a wisp, a thin cloud of some bottled anger form in his mind. Why had he been toyed with so? Why had he been treated like the butt of a joke?

    Damn it.

    ¡®Look, lad,¡¯ Hasel said, placing a consoling hand on Valinos¡¯ shoulder, ¡®perhaps the message you received had been altered or corrupted. It¡¯s a common tactic in wartime. And judging by the Order¡¯s movements, it is war they¡¯re after.¡¯

    ¡®You really think the Order¡¯s clutches reach so far?¡¯ Valinos asked, voicing his concern. He reflected on the message. It seemed so genuine, bearing the seal of Fara¡¯ethar, as far as he could tell. Whoever had fashioned it had even known his occupation.

    ¡®Who really knows? They¡¯re crafty, though. And I wanted to advise you. Be careful. It looks like they¡¯re after you, for whatever reason.¡¯

    ¡®Yeah,¡¯ Valinos said blankly, ¡®another thing to discover.¡¯

    ¡®Stay strong, lad. Now, forgive me,¡¯ he said as he stood, ¡®I¡¯ve other guests to entertain. I¡¯ll leave you to your thoughts.¡¯

    ¡®When you visited,¡¯ Valinos said before the man could walk away, ¡®did you ever¡­ bring Fen¡¯asel along?¡¯

    Hasel turned back with a curious glint in his eyes. ¡®You¡¯ve met my daughter, I presume.¡¯

    There was a rush in Valinos¡¯ stomach. It was accompanied by a sudden clarity of mind, like the morning birdsong after a squall.

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ he said. ¡®She¡¯s quite impressive.¡¯ The old man gave him a sour look. ¡®I mean,¡¯ Valinos blurted, ¡®watching her work at Birdswatch¡­ it¡¯s a real joy.¡¯

    ¡®Aye, she has a way with birds that surpasses even my expertise,¡¯ said Hasel, smiling. ¡®No, she was too young to come along with me back then. Look, you take good care of her now,¡¯ he added knowingly and turned away. The man¡¯s footsteps faded into obscurity as the noises of the feast grew again. Valinos was alone once more. He looked across his table. Amarant Darius¡¯ entourage had quieted down slightly as a card game was under way.

    Before Valinos could retreat into his thoughts, someone nudged his shoulder and jumped into a seat next to him.

    ¡®Hello, you!¡¯ Fen¡¯asel¡¯s singsong voice called out. Valinos was still taken aback by her vivacity. ¡®Sorry I¡¯m late.¡¯ She placed a plate down and dug in immediately, attacking the food like a hungry beast. She mumbled something else through mouthfuls of lamb.

    Valinos laughed. ¡®What was that?¡¯ He was absorbed by her at once even as she ate. Her smile, her energy, her colour. She looked stunning in her golden dress, a perfect complement to the raw richness of her hair. Like one who moved easily between two worlds, there was something wild and gorgeous about Fen¡¯asel. Seeing her, his confusion dissipated like a puff of smoke.

    ¡®I was helping prepare all the performers,¡¯ she clarified.

    ¡®So you¡¯re the reason everyone on stage looked so dashing?¡¯

    Fen¡¯asel blushed with a mouthful of food. Valinos was glad to see her being her perky self again. She had already apologised profusely for her forwardness on their night at Guladran. Now, she seemed comfortable around him again.

    ¡®Don¡¯t worry about it,¡¯ Valinos said. ¡®I imagine there¡¯s still quite a bit of this feast to go. You enjoy your food. You look starved.¡¯

    Fen¡¯asel giggled and continued eating. ¡®What did my father want?¡¯ she asked. ¡®I saw him stop by.¡¯

    ¡®He said I should treat you well or else he¡¯ll toss me off the top of Birdswatch himself.¡¯

    Fen¡¯asel scowled playfully. ¡®Somehow, I don¡¯t believe you.¡¯

    ¡®It¡¯s true, more or less,¡¯ Valinos said, holding his palms up innocently. ¡®But get this, it turns out your father knew my old man.¡¯

    Fen¡¯asel swallowed a chunk of lamb hastily. ¡®Really?¡¯

    ¡®Apparently they became friends on a visit to Silnod¨¬r when I was five perhaps. Ended up striking a deal with the Empire over the procurement of weaponry and armour.¡¯

    ¡®So you¡¯re the son of a smith?¡¯ she asked. ¡®That explains why you were in Res¡¯ armoury that night. Maybe this will allay my father¡¯s fears.¡¯

    ¡®He¡¯s got nothing to be scared of. I¡¯ll protect you, my lady. It¡¯s what I grew up learning.¡¯ I sound like Asphales, he reflected foolishly.

    Fen¡¯asel laughed. The sound was as pleasant as a fresh breeze and intoxicating as fine wine. ¡®You haven¡¯t spoken of your family much,¡¯ she said. ¡®What are they like?¡¯

    ¡®I didn¡¯t really know,¡¯ Valinos said, gripping his mug. ¡®The one who raised me is my foster father. I never knew my real parents.¡¯

    ¡®Oh,¡¯ she said, ¡®I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to¡ª¡¯

    ¡®It¡¯s nothing,¡¯ he interrupted. ¡®It was a long time ago.¡¯

    ¡®My mother died when I was very young,¡¯ Fen¡¯asel said after a pause. ¡®Father¡¯s done his best trying to raise me. And here I am.¡¯

    ¡®I think you turned out wonderfully,¡¯ Valinos said, trying to lighten the mood. Fen¡¯asel¡¯s eyes brightened. ¡®I mean,¡¯ he added quickly, ¡®yes, your father should be commended.¡¯

    Fen¡¯asel smirked and took a sip of some concoction, keeping her eyes on him. ¡®Did you ever sort out your business with him?¡¯ she asked after putting her cup down.

    ¡®Sort of. That¡¯s why he came to see me, actually. I¡¯d rather not talk about that right now. We¡¯ve spoken of pain enough already. But we can still enjoy this night, though.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s true. Never spoil the batch over one rotten fruit, I say.¡¯

    Valinos chuckled. ¡®Am I the rotten fruit?¡¯

    ¡®Only if you keep sitting there sulking,¡¯ she said, leaning in.

    ¡®Are you going to whisk me off somewhere tonight as well?¡¯

    ¡®I might have something planned, yes.¡¯ She was maddeningly close, her voice dangerously low. She let out icy breaths that tore through the warmth of the chamber and caressed his face intently.

    ¡®Valinos!¡¯ someone familiar yelled out and stomped toward their table. Asphales approached and sat down next to Valinos as forcefully as Fen¡¯asel had. ¡®There you are, my brooding friend.¡¯

    ¡®I was hiding from you, you know,¡¯ Valinos said, pulling away from Fen¡¯asel. ¡®Took you long enough.¡¯

    ¡®Well, I figured I can¡¯t leave you roaming the castle on your own. People might think the feast was cancelled due to rain.¡¯

    Valinos sighed. ¡®Fen¡¯asel, this is my blundering companion, childhood friend, and theatrical knucklehead, Asphales.¡¯

    ¡®A pleasure to meet you, Fen¡¯asel,¡¯ Asphales said, bowing his head and fanning out the sleeves of his dark blue doublet.

    ¡®The pleasure is mine,¡¯ she responded. ¡®So, you¡¯re Asphales Es¨¦linor.¡¯

    ¡®Yes. And I see you¡¯ve already acquainted yourself with my lovable friend. He can turn any feast into a funeral.¡¯

    ¡®How about the next one is yours?¡¯ Valinos said.

    ¡®Oh, he¡¯s not that bad,¡¯ Fen¡¯asel said to Asphales with a raised eyebrow.

    ¡®This is what I¡¯ve had to put up with for twenty-three years,¡¯ Valinos said with another sigh.

    ¡®Poor you,¡¯ Fen¡¯asel said, mocking his pout. Then she latched onto his arm and laughed.

    ¡®Is everything to the masters¡¯ liking?¡¯ asked a servant from behind Valinos. It only took a moment for him to realise who was speaking.

    ¡®Yes, Ithil¨¬r,¡¯ Asphales said, ¡®but there¡¯s a distinct lack of sweets.¡¯

    ¡®Do not worry about that, master Asphales. Desserts will be brought out shortly.¡¯

    ¡®How about more drinks?¡¯ Valinos asked as he turned around, meeting the master-servant¡¯s steel eyes, still as a statue and as blank and unreadable. ¡®We¡¯ve dried up like a parched river.¡¯

    ¡®Very good. I shall return with refreshments.¡¯

    ¡®And can you get me a Hawkspie?¡¯

    ¡®I am not your butler nor your chef, master Valinos.¡¯

    ¡®Thanks, Ithil¨¬r,¡¯ he called amicably yet expectantly after the servant. He turned back to the table, only to be greeted with incredulous looks from both Asphales and Fen¡¯asel.

    ¡®Well,¡¯ Asphales said, ¡®the ruffian¡¯s feeling himself like royalty, huh?¡¯

    ¡®We live in a castle now, don¡¯t we?¡¯ All three of them laughed.

    ¡®But what¡¯s a Hawkspie?¡¯

    ¡®That,¡¯ Fen¡¯asel added eagerly, ¡®is a delicacy you simply must try. Valinos here is crazy for it now.¡¯

    Asphales raised his eyebrows. ¡®This I have to see. Probably not the only thing he¡¯s been crazy about lately, though.¡¯

    ¡®And where is your lady friend?¡¯ Valinos asked, prodding.

    Asphales blushed suddenly as he was put on the defensive.

    ¡®What¡¯s going on with you two?¡¯ Fen¡¯asel asked, shifting a suspicious gaze between Asphales and Valinos.

    A blessed commotion arose in the hall which diverted Fen¡¯asel¡¯s attention from the embarrassing topic at hand. Not far off, near the stage, tables and chairs were cleared out by servants, shoved aside to make space. In mere moments, roughly a quarter of the Feast Hall had been emptied. Guests and servants huddled the perimeter of now-unfurnished tiles and stones.

    On the stage itself, musicians came out in droves. The harp player from earlier was still there, now joined by more flautists, lutist, percussionists, and even those playing more unrecognisable, exotic instruments. Valinos feared what would occur next.

    ¡®What¡¯s happening now?¡¯

    ¡®Looks like drinks and desserts will have to wait,¡¯ said Fen¡¯asel.

    The cue was given. The band began a raucous, cheerful tune. Driving rhythms, pulsating melodies, sweeping harmonies. Whoops and shouts went up as a dance arose. Guests rushed in an orderly manner toward the open space, moving in chaotic patterns.

    ¡®We¡¯re not going to¡ª¡¯

    ¡®We are,¡¯ Fen¡¯asel said with a wink. She took hold of Valinos¡¯ hand and began to move toward the crowd. Driven by the music, their motions ebbed and flowed like a tide.

    ¡®Hey, wait for me!¡¯ Asphales said as he followed. They moved quickly through onlookers. As they neared the dancefloor, Valinos was puzzled as to how they would even breach the insanity playing out before them.

    ¡®Ready?¡¯ said Fen¡¯asel.

    ¡®This is so stupid,¡¯ he said to no one in particular.

    ¡®It¡¯s your last night before you leave,¡¯ she protested. ¡®You asked to be taken somewhere tonight, didn¡¯t you?¡¯

    ¡®Yes, but I didn¡¯t mean¡ª¡¯

    She took a step, still clutching his hand. Then they were in the cyclone of people and song. ¡®Thus Valinos, Prince of Gloom, is impelled to dance,¡¯ he heard Asphales say before he was caught in the chaos of the dance. Laughter swirled from somewhere around him. Cheering. Spinning.

    Soon he lost track of his one anchor also. The dance required changing partners. He reluctantly let go of Fen¡¯asel¡¯s hand as he was swept in the other direction. He felt like a windblown cloud as he passed different people. He ended up in the embrace of an old woman who was entirely too adventurous in her groping. He whizzed past a man who smelt of sour wine and something worse.

    Finally, he landed in Fen¡¯asel¡¯s arms. She was laughing. He focused on her eyes¡ªlivelier and more beautiful than all the lights around them. Where all else was spinning, blurring, fading, her face provided much needed clarity. He was grateful for this instant of calm after confusion. In this moment, he saw what he wanted. He knew where he should be. Valinos gave in to the music.

    And long after the grey clouds grew tired and the moon was lulled to sleep did the fires of Fara¡¯ethar still burn with mirth and gladness.

    * * *

    Fara¡¯ethar was sleepless on this glorious night. Even after his time at the feast was over, Asphales could see stalls and tables set up around the courtyard of the castle. The festivities had spilled out of the hall into the bailey in order to accommodate the multitude of guests.

    But they were now silent, distant companions.

    Perched on his tower, Asphales stared out and he stared up. The land spread beneath him. The muddled shape of mountains smeared the distance. They were all but pale streaks against the infinite deep of the sky. They seemed a simple frame to the fresco of the night. A million lights, a million stories shone. Not a cloud was to be seen, not a simmer not a speck. As if the air itself dared not mar the perfect picture of the celestial abyss.

    It was quieter here. Away from the tiresome noise of the feast, Asphales could think. He had come here often in his brief time at the castle already, seeking solace and solutions. The Feast of Starlight been a celebration indeed, but now it was time to simply sit and watch.

    The sky was his sight.

    The sea his music.

    He listened to its ceaseless murmuring, shouting yet never speaking. This roaring thing, restrained by an invisible barrier. There was much to listen to, much to think about.

    Then foreign sounds intruded into the calm. Asphales jumped as he heard scampering somewhere beneath him. A figure had indeed found their way up the same passage and was now climbing up. Deftly, the figure shuffled along the wall and hoisted itself up over the bricked barrier and onto the spire¡¯s tiles.

    Even in the dim moonlight he could not have mistaken her.

    Ad¨¦lia.

    ¡®I hope I did not alarm you,¡¯ she said. Her voice was soothing.

    ¡®Ah, no. I just didn¡¯t expect anyone to find this place.¡¯

    ¡®It took some time,¡¯ she said. ¡®But there¡¯s no better place in Fara¡¯ethar from which to watch the sky.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia came closer. She was a shard of daylight in the night. Her locks were free again. Her hair was a wind-tossed cataract cast in smouldering scarlet. No longer garbed in her silver gown, she nevertheless looked fitting in the simpler attire she had donned. A long-sleeved creamy overcoat covered a modest green blouse. Her breeches and boots looked far more mobile than the formal gown, and she carried a pouch by her side.

    ¡®Fara¡¯ethar really knows how to celebrate,¡¯ Asphales said with an eye on the festivities below as she stepped over to him. ¡®I can¡¯t say I¡¯ve ever been a part of such a massive party,¡¯

    ¡®I do hope you enjoyed it,¡¯ she said, kneeling next to Asphales.

    ¡®I did. I know we didn¡¯t see each other over the feast, but I saw your performance. You were truly wonderful. I mean it.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you. You had already heard me before, in Gohenur.¡¯

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ he said, thinking back to that afternoon. ¡®You were no less incredible then. But tonight I was struck by how much was conveyed by your song.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia said nothing. An innocent silence filled the gap.

    ¡®It seems I¡¯ve failed you, Ad¨¦lia,¡¯ he said with a chuckle. ¡®I don¡¯t think this is any more agreeable a time to meet. It¡¯s so late.¡¯

    ¡®No matter,¡¯ she said with a weak smile, ¡®this time I sought you out. And what better night is there to stargaze?¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s true,¡¯ Asphales said, leaning his head against the tower¡¯s spire and glancing at the sky once more.

    ¡®But I came to bring you something,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said. Asphales looked over to see her rustle through the pouch at her side. She brought out a small clothed bundle and held it out gently.

    ¡®What¡¯s this?¡¯ he asked.

    ¡®For you. Something I made.¡¯

    Asphales accepted the parcel and uncovered it. It was a small painting. He could discern the pastels in the moonlight. His likeness was on the canvas, captured like a bottled moment. A frozen smile, a glance of midnight stillness. The brown waves of his hair, the jasper glimmer of his eyes, all there as if trapped in a page.

    ¡®This is amazing,¡¯ Asphales said, his eyes glued to the canvas. ¡®It really looks like me!¡¯ He held up the painting and tried to imitate the smile. Ad¨¦lia looked on to what must have been a ridiculous sight. ¡®Thank you,¡¯ he said.

    ¡®It¡¯s only a small thing, Asphales,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said, ¡®but I hope you treasure it. When we met in Gohenur, there was something about you I found approachable. I saw in you someone just as lost as I was. And yet you kept going. Even when your burden became heavier, when you arrived here and discovered what you truly are, still you relentlessly pursue and fight for a way forward.

    ¡®So keep this,¡¯ she added, ¡®as a small memento. Know that you are not alone in this. Know that I am thinking of you. I have already pledged my sword and spear. Take this as proof of my commitment. But more than that, I hope it is a reminder that you have a companion who shares your burden and duty.¡¯

    And that¡¯s all she can be, Asphales thought. He remembered Ishak¡¯s words. He realised how much it meant for her to know another one born of starlight. He would do nothing rash or improper. Though his feelings for Ad¨¦lia bubbled wildly every time he saw her, he would not act on them. Their task as Elderchildren took priority. Their stories were entwined even if their hearts could never be.

    ¡®You have my gratitude, Ad¨¦lia. Truly. It means everything to know I don¡¯t face this evil alone.¡¯

    ¡®Tomorrow we begin this quest proper. We¡¯ll see what awaits us then.¡¯

    ¡®Do you ever wonder,¡¯ Asphales began, ¡®why this task fell to you¡­ to us? As much as I adore the tales, I doubt I would have chosen this willingly.¡¯

    ¡®And yet here you are. You could have abandoned this long ago. But something¡¯s made you stay.¡¯

    Asphales smiled weakly.

    ¡®I¡¯m glad you did,¡¯ she said. ¡®I had nearly given in before I met you. So yes, I do often wonder. I also doubt. But I have never questioned my love for this world. I want to see its story continue. I want the stars to keep shining. I wish its rivers to keep flowing. I do not want to see love snuffed by darkness. And I suspect you are much the same.¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯re right, that is what drives me. Someone must do it.¡¯

    ¡®Perhaps that is answer enough.¡¯

    Asphales gazed up at the guiding lights once more. It was N¨¬this, the turn of the Hourglass. The inscrutable passage of time and change. Things were about to change, indeed. Asphales hoped he had the strength to carry through. Father, you are up there somewhere. Do you guide me still?

    ¡®Do you mind if I stay a while?¡¯ Ad¨¦lia asked.

    Asphales came to. ¡®No, not at all. But there¡¯s not much room here,¡¯ he said, looking around the small platform. ¡®I don¡¯t think the designer of this tower had two stargazers in mind.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia smiled and shuffled over to the other side of the spire. Asphales faced the sea, she the forest. But they shared a common sky. They were alone together and together alone. If the moon had been watching, it would have looked on curiously.

    ¡®You¡¯re an artist,¡¯ Asphales said as he examined the painting again. ¡®I have a humble request.¡¯

    ¡®What is it?¡¯ she called out from the other side. Her voice was carried gently by the midnight wind.

    ¡®Would you paint a portrait of yourself?¡¯

    There was a moment of silence. ¡®Why?¡¯

    ¡®For one, as much as I love this gift, I know what I look like. I think you¡¯re much lovelier to look upon, anyway. But consider this. Would it not be a good idea to keep our portraits for posterity? When future generations tell the story of the two heroes of starlight, I should like for them to have illustrations.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia let out a wisp of laughter. It sounded like spring. For a moment, her voice carried warmth that overpowered the cool autumn air.

    ¡®What, you don¡¯t think our stories will join the likes of Lanurel and Vildia?¡¯ he asked.

    ¡®There truly is no one like you, Asphales. I will think about it.¡¯

    Asphales returned to watching the sky. Many sparkling words nestled in the blackened pages above. But tonight, only two mattered to him. Two names huddled under this momentary starlight. That¡¯s all there was for him this night. Still, the hidden moon allowed all the heavenly lights to truly shine.

    ¡®The stars are so bright tonight,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said.

 Chapter Sixteen - This Pained Goodbye

    Midnight dreamt of stars.

    She woke abruptly beneath a blank sky.

    Cold. Stony. Lightless.

    There was nothing above her but black. Still, her eyes did not meet the silken canvas she once knew. Midnight no longer danced in distant fields of light. She was here, here, here, trapped in the mountain¡¯s heart.

    Loud, rhythmical marching mumbled through the rocky walls surrounding her. Whatever soundless memories her dreams had wrought faded with the footsteps. She rose quickly, rubbed off sleep and ache as well as she could, and hurried across the cold, dark expanse of her chamber to join the throng outside.

    Hops did not meet her this day. Nor could Midnight see him in the low light of the tunnels among the dozens of workers trudging on. A Heartless ensured the crowd kept steady pace. It was the same sight each day. An uncaring guard watching over a rolling mass of men and women whose empty, haggard faces flashed by in the torchlight.

    This was her. Another featureless drop in a pond. Her step fell in line with theirs. She walked on for time uncounted.

    ¡®Midnight! Midnight!¡¯ burst a sudden voice. Then came the warmth of touch. Midnight felt a dirty hand grip hers. She looked down. A shadow shorter than the rest walked beside her. Th¨¬r. There was a momentary smile in dimming fire before the dark of the tunnel swallowed it again. No one else even flinched.

    ¡®It¡¯s the Machines today,¡¯ the boy said, squeezing Midnight¡¯s hand.

    There were not many around Th¨¬r¡¯s age in the caves. Midnight was relieved at that, for the sight of even this one boy broke her heart. She did not know how he ended up in the mountain. Midnight could not ask and Th¨¬r had never spoken much of his home. But on other subjects, the boy could speak plenty for the both of them.

    ¡®Do you want to hear a story?¡¯ he asked quietly.

    The boy had picked up old man Hops¡¯ habit of telling tales. It was the one way to reach and remember the outside. Hopeful words spoken in a hopeless world. Midnight nodded but the boy did not wait for her approval to begin.

    ¡®It goes like this. A long time ago in a faraway kingdom that no one can remember¡ªno one but me, of course¡ªlived an archer. His name was Thrind¨¬r and he was the lord of his land. His was a land of green hills, blue rivers, golden fields, and silver cities. He was the greatest archer in his kingdom¡ªhe could shoot any target. Fair Thrind¨¬r loved his country and his people, and everyone loved him. Dark of hair and light of eyes, he had a hard face but an easy smile.¡¯

    Midnight closed her eyes for a moment to conjure up the boy¡¯s images. She allowed herself to think of things beyond the caves. Patchy pictures of her homeland appeared. To her, it truly was a faraway kingdom on the brink of being forgotten.

    ¡®Thrind¨¬r wouldn¡¯t go anywhere without his trusty bow. With it he could hunt any game¡¯¡ªthe boy¡¯s enthusiastic motions accompanied the story¡ª¡®He could defend his friends and defeat his foes. It is said that he never needed more than three arrows, for he would launch them with all the force of the wind and the song of storms behind them.¡¯

    Midnight felt a jolt. She remembered. She was taken back to words coolly spoken beside a lake mingling with moonlight. Midnight remembered a father¡¯s steady hand guiding her shaky aim. She was reminded of arrows flying free beneath a harsh summer sun. And she recalled a cast-off weapon tucked in the secret safety of her chamber. A pulse shook the numbness of sleep, and she knew what she had in her possession. The seeds of a plan sprouted, throwing out uncertain shoots. Should she even dare to dream?

    ¡®But not everyone was happy with Thrind¨¬r,¡¯ said Th¨¬r, his voice taking on a sombre tone. ¡®There were evil men who grew jealous of his skill and service. The Harathi. From over the black mountains they came and back to the mountains they crawled. But they couldn¡¯t touch him. So they bribed cowards hungry for coin, men from Thrind¨¬r¡¯s own land who spied for this rival nation.

    ¡®While fair Thrind¨¬r was out hunting, these spies secretly broke his bow under the pretence of assisting him. When the beast came, they fled and Thrind¨¬r could not protect himself. And so it was that the Harathi found him wounded and bleeding in the forest. They captured him and dragged him into the darkness of their dungeons.¡¯

    Midnight shuddered. It had happened to her so long ago. Those memories were fuzzy now. Muffled shouts. Shadowed hands which dragged her away, away, away. They took her far from names and faces which will never again see the light of sun or moon.

    ¡®But even in prison Thrind¨¬r did not give up hope. Even when the Harathi hung up his broken bow as a symbol of his broken spirit and broken land. Even when the days and nights passed by without mercy. For it was here he met Princess Medina.

    ¡®You see, the Harathi had captured the princess of a nearby kingdom and it so happened that Thrind¨¬r discovered her in the dark. Her eyes were full and grey like the moon. Her hair was long and black as shadows. She shone as a fragile, lone star in the night.

    ¡®And yet her beauty could not disguise her sadness. For her voice had once been lovely as a songbird, but now she did not speak. Thrind¨¬r grieved to see one so beautiful in such a terrible place. Though she could not respond to his questions and he did not know her name, Thrind¨¬r came to love her over time.¡¯

    Midnight wanted to laugh. She wanted to express her joy at inspiring a tale in so young a mind. The boy was so excited, hopeful, playful. But there was no audible response from her as Thir¡¯s words echoed carefully down the length of the cave. Only the walls eavesdropped on his story.

    ¡®Together, they determined to escape their horrid prison. The princess was skilled in all manner of arts and could walk unseen. So, with Thrind¨¬r¡¯s strength and Medina¡¯s cunning, the two managed to retrieve the hero¡¯s bow. She repaired the weapon and all Thrind¨¬r needed were three arrows to escape. Where did he get them, you wonder? Don¡¯t ask me, only he knows! But get them he did. He used one on the jailor, one on the commander of the Harathi, and one on the dungeon door. One by one, each obstacle fell until the way stood open. Then, hand in hand, Thrind¨¬r and Medina left those mountains and tasted the light of day once more.

    ¡®They came out to a bright, dazzling day and a lake glinting with gold. It is said that the touch of the sun healed the princess and she could speak again. Medina embraced Thrind¨¬r and used her first words to answer his most important question. I don¡¯t know what happened to Thrind¨¬r and Medina in later years, but I¡¯ve heard their kingdom grew strong and the wind still sings their names.¡¯

    The last word came too soon and everything retreated back into the cramped walls of the caves. Its dreadful silence returned, broken only by the light patter of unwilling feet. Each step took her further from the freedom of the story. Its lingering light began to fade. But Midnight clung to it. She clung to that hope with all her might.

    ¡®Do you like it?¡¯ Thir asked.

    Midnight smiled¡ªa useless gesture in the dark¡ªand ran a hand through the boy¡¯s hair.

    ¡®I know what you¡¯re thinking,¡¯ he said, ¡®but this is a story not even old man Hops knows, because I made it!¡¯ Midnight wished she could have seen the boy¡¯s proud grin. How she wished.

    ¡®Shut it, scum!¡¯ growled one of the nearby Heartless. The sound of an unsheathed blade cut the silence. Midnight stiffened.

    Th¨¬r squirmed as if to pounce on the guard, but Midnight drew him closer and held him until they passed by. The boy must have realised his folly, for he soon stopped struggling.

    ¡®Keep walking, squirt,¡¯ the guard called after them. ¡®Don¡¯t waste your strength. Got a long day ahead of you yet.¡¯

    The guard¡¯s insult was lost and forgotten as the workers emerged into the immensity of the cavern. Yawning above them, the mountain¡¯s heart beat black. Lights in the distance marked out working areas.

    But they were not stars.

    Mere torches against a false sky, they were cruel imitations, reminding her of one more thing she could not have. There was no freedom here. No openness. No air.

    The workers were herded toward a ramp leading deeper into the cave. Midnight gripped Th¨¬r¡¯s hand as they faced the cavern¡¯s unfathomable dimensions. They descended toward the Machines.

    Into the mountain¡¯s hungry mouth.

    Cold crept in as they reached the lower level of the cave. Silhouettes moved about, around, and above them. Midnight felt shaded eyes turn to her. As this place often did, it made her feel small. Watched. Kept in line.

    Then the oppression got worse. A voice boomed through the cavern. A gruelling, scraping thing which made her want to cower.

    ¡®You stand on the eve of glory,¡¯ it said. Th¨¬r put his arms around Midnight and held tight. ¡®What you build here will pave the way for a new world. A world which you, too, can be a part of if you but obey.¡¯

    Midnight could not locate the voice¡ªit was somewhere above and yet it resonated inside her head¡ªbut she recognised it. It was the terror in the caves, the lord of this place. She tried to put his face out of her mind.

    ¡®We are close,¡¯ he went on. ¡®Do not disappoint and you shall be rewarded. Your eyes will behold something truly grand.¡¯

    An incorrigible shout went up as the voice ended. People whom Midnight could not see raised their voices in unison, in agreement. A small part of her mind found it hard to resist. Then the sensation was gone and when the voices around her died, there was nothing but the crackling of flame and creaking of machinery.

    ¡®You heard our lord, you rats,¡¯ a nearby Heartless boomed as he started prodding the crowd onwards. ¡®Get to work!¡¯

    The monster may have been gone but the monstrous task still lay before her. Ahead they waited silently. War machines and siege weapons, wheeled and wooden creatures slumbering in the dark.

    Slaves crept and toiled at the feet of these imposing constructions. Others moved about carrying boxes full of parts and pieces. Though these machines seemed almost like guardians of the mountain, Midnight knew the truth. They were weapons of dark design used to unleash horrid things upon the world. They flung stones, spat fire, and demolished cities.

    And she, along with the others, was giving them life. The new world which the monster spoke of would be built on the smouldering ruins of the one she once knew and loved.

    ¡®Hurry up,¡¯ said a guard behind her as he prodded her with the end of his spear. He struck a bruise and Midnight winced, but trudged onward. She realised then that she had been separated from Th¨¬r. The boy was nowhere in sight, and her hand longed for touch again.

    She approached one of the huge, immobile machines¡ªwild but restrained by scaffoldings and railings like chains¡ªand began work, following the mindless droning of the other slaves. They did not even need instruction any longer, so long had they been at their harrowing task. Their movements fell into place.

    But all the while, Midnight¡¯s mind was elsewhere. It was trained on the hidden corner of her chamber where a precious tool awaited. It was only the parched promise¡ªbarely hints of one¡ªof a life beyond this place. Mere dream, mirage, and wishful thinking, perhaps. Yet Midnight watered the plan inside her head.

    She pushed through more workers who moved like senseless cogs, unaware of what was on her mind. But the mind of one determined can achieve great things. Midnight began watching. In between her routines¡ªin the precious moments not spent pulling levers, working pulleys, or lifting materials¡ªshe took notice. The guards and their patrols, the workers and their routes, the machinery and its placement. She took it all in. The mountain¡¯s heart kept beating, and Midnight wanted to learn its every thrum.

    It was not long before Midnight realised the central cavern of the Machines acted as a hub for other activity also. Workers from other departments flowed through the thoroughfare. They carried components that would surely be assembled into weapons elsewhere.

    Midnight saw her chance.

    A couple of workers dropped off a crate, momentarily distracted by orders from a Heartless. Light as a shadow, she made her way toward it. Like a creeping moon, always moving yet still to the gaze of others. Under the gaze of mute machines, there was no one to notice, no one to raise a cry.

    As she approached the supply create, Midnight wavered. Her confidence was ripped and she set her thoughts on Th¨¬r and Hops. Even if her foolish plan came through, what would happen to those she cared about? Midnight cursed her weakness. Cursed the mountain for the thousandth thousandth time. Cursed all her pain, all her sorrow. She wanted to turn them into strength and weaponry.

    And this was the only away.

    Midnight took the final steps toward the crate and looked inside the open top. Hemp fashioned into strings lay in neat, wrapped bundles. She reached in and took a hold of the fabric. It was as if she touched hope itself. This was it. This was a voice for her bow. With this it could sing.

    Midnight hastily drew out a bundle. For one terse moment, she looked around. But no one seemed to have noticed. She pulled on the bundle until the knot came undone and then tied the string around her waist. Wrapped closely to her like this, it blended with the dirty fabrics of her ragged clothes.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    She took a step away. Then another. And another. None were the wiser that hope had budded in the darkness of the mountain.

    ¡®Hey, you!¡¯ shouted one of the guards. For an instant, everything Midnight held on to shattered. She froze. He came nearer.

    ¡®Make yourself useful,¡¯ he said, apparently unaware of what had transpired. ¡®Carry that crate¡¯¡ªthe Heartless pointed vaguely behind him to another supply box¡ª¡®over to maintenance. Everyone around here is worthless.¡¯

    Midnight nodded and complied. She passed the muttering guard and lifted the wooden box. She peeked inside and found one more thing to help her plan bloom. Iron arrowheads, ready and forged into shape, lay there encased.

    ¡®Get a move on,¡¯ the guard said before she could admire them.

    Following a path marked by torchlight, Midnight scampered off with the crate. The Heartless followed closely. Still, she could not believe her fortune.

    However, as soon as thoughts of freedom arose from some rusty corner of her mind, they were constricted by the scene in front of her. Midnight spied a peculiar tunnel leading out of the Machines. She could not remember ever seeing slaves make use of it. But it was patrolled by a dozen armed Heartless in gleaming armour. Despite this, she mapped its location. She would not forget this. She could not.

    ¡®Not that way.¡¯ The Heartless commandeered and redirected her toward an equally guarded area. Time was running out. Midnight did not want to waste what had fallen in her possession.

    So she did the only thing she could in her panic.

    Midnight stumbled. She landed roughly among the stones with a crash. The contents of the crate spilled as she rolled. A rain of iron sounded. Bruises screamed at her. Then the blows came.

    ¡®Useless wench,¡¯ the guard barked as he hit her again and again. Her legs, her arms, her side all ached. Midnight clenched her teeth and shut her tear-blurred eyes. She took it because it was done. She had become a thief. But she was only stealing from those who had stolen her life.

    When the guard¡¯s rage was finally spent, she dared to move. Her limbs complained and her eyes resisted adjusting to the light.

    ¡®I¡¯ll take it from here,¡¯ a voice said. A voice she hated. ¡®This one¡¯s mine.¡¯

    ¡®Lord Shurun¡¯el,¡¯ the guard said, his tone laced with fear. ¡®I-I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t know.¡¯

    ¡®No need for that. On your way.¡¯

    ¡®But, sir, what about the¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t worry about that. But listen, if you touch her again, I will kill you.¡¯

    The coolness with which Shurun¡¯el said those words made Midnight shiver.

    Not this. Not him.

    Midnight opened her eyes to see Shurun¡¯el stride imperiously toward where she had fallen. He looked as he always did, the arrogance written on his face, forged into his blade, and etched into his attire. He lifted her roughly as the other guard slipped away.

    ¡®You!¡¯ he spat now that they were alone. ¡®I should¡¯ve known.¡¯

    Midnight grunted and tried not to face him.

    ¡®Look at me,¡¯ he said, gripping her chin.

    Midnight appeased his wishes, noting again the scar over Shurun¡¯el face, wishing she could thank the one who had done it.

    ¡®Now listen. You will do your duty, you¡ª¡¯

    Shurun¡¯el never finished his threat. For a moment, light engulfed the mountain¡¯s blackened reaches. Then a sound, louder than anything she had heard, boomed through the cavern. What was at first beautiful quickly darkened into dread. There came the weight. The burning. The shaking.

    The roar of flame.

    Midnight was thrown to the ground once more. Shurun¡¯el was dizzy, but he attempted to look around and maintain a grip of the situation. ¡®What the hell is going on?¡¯ he shrieked.

    There was fire and smoke in the direction of the Machines. Midnight had never seen so much red and orange. So much light. Screams and frantic footsteps were all she could hear through the ringing in her ears.

    While she lay dazed, someone¡ªa guard perhaps¡ªapproached.

    ¡®It¡¯s the fireflinger, sir,¡¯ the man said, out of breath. ¡®It¡¯s malfunctioned. There¡¯s been an explosion.¡¯

    Shurun¡¯el screamed unintelligibly. ¡®I¡¯ll have someone¡¯s head for this,¡¯ he said as he rushed off, seemingly having forgotten about Midnight.

    But in all this chaos, she could only think of one thing.

    Her daring plan, the stolen items around her waist and in her tunic, all forgotten for the moment.

    Only one thing mattered.

    Midnight pushed herself to rise.

    Please.

    She walked toward the fire.

    Please.

    Shadows ran the other way. Some stumbled. Some screamed.

    Please.

    The heat rose as Midnight approached the wreckage of a machine. Timber and stone lay scattered everywhere. The foundations had been blown to bits. Debris peppered the landscape. And mangled bodies littered the worksite.

    But in all this, Midnight was only looking for one.

    There she saw him, a shadow shorter than the rest, splayed on the ground.

    Th¨¬r.

    Everyone ignored the fallen boy. They stepped around him, heedless.

    Long-buried instincts sprang in the panic. Midnight rushed over, head and heart numb. She knelt and checked his body. Burns. Bleeding. At least a couple broken limbs. It was as if a part of her knew what needed to be done but the blockage in her mind and her unresponsive body stopped her. She was helpless.

    Midnight took his hand in hers. Th¨¬r was muttering something.

    Then his life ebbed. A final breath. Whereas everything around her burned, she could feel the warmth escaping the boy¡¯s body.

    Soon, she was holding on to ice.

    No.

    Midnight screamed.

    No.

    A single agonised note.

    No.

    A single sound erupted and shrilled through the mountain. And as if in awful harmony, Midnight wept. Her tears fell where her words could not reach. They spoke things she could never say.

    And before the blackness took her, Midnight snapped. Every thread frayed and came close to being undone. The dark was cold, silent comfort.

    Later, Midnight sat numbly in her chamber. She could not tell how long it had been. The flow of time was meaningless here. It was just a series of painful moments in succession. One heartbreak after another.

    Midnight scraped absently with the stock of her bow. It was quieter now. A silence to sink in. It was broken only by the scratching of the weapon and the occasional cough. She still reeled from the smoke which had taken everything.

    Midnight sat and pondered everything and nothing. Too lost in thought to have heard an approaching noise before it was too late, she was startled by a figure.

    ¡®Pardon, Midnight,¡¯ Hops said. ¡®It¡¯s just me.¡¯

    The old man limped over to her. She did not move.

    ¡®They tell me that when you woke you refused to go anywhere. The guards had to drag you away. And you thrashed all the while.¡¯

    Th¨¬r smiled. He was the only person here who remembered how.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry about Th¨¬r,¡¯ Hops offered. ¡®He was a good boy.¡¯

    My heart to yours.

    ¡®Devoured stories like a soldier¡¯s lunch, too.¡¯

    We¡¯ll stay together and fly free.

    ¡®But now he¡¯s gone and¡­¡¯ Hops stopped. ¡®Midnight, you don¡¯t deserve this. I¡¯m sorry.¡¯

    She continued to scratch idly.

    Hops moved closer. ¡®But¡­ I¡¯ve seen what you¡¯re planning, girl. It is foolish.¡¯

    Midnight stopped.

    ¡®It is foolish, but I understand the longing of your broken heart. So know this, you¡¯re not the only one to have held on to hope, girl.¡¯

    Midnight turned to the old man. He was holding out a wrapped bundle. She took it gently.

    ¡®Some of us haven¡¯t given up yet.¡¯

    With wonder, Midnight opened it and took out a half dozen arrow shafts. They were already fitted with nocks.

    The old man sighed. ¡®I know I won¡¯t change your mind. So at least let me help you. My hands aren¡¯t what they used to be, but I can show you a few things.¡¯ He noticed her rummaging through the shafts. ¡®That¡¯s all I¡¯ve collected that could be of use to you. Have you got arrowheads? I can show you how to set them.¡¯

    Midnight reached into the fold of her tunic and drew out what she had stashed there earlier. Three metal arrowheads.

    She faced Hops, tools in hand and eagerness in her eyes.

    No, she would no longer remain here, cradled by the dark.

    Midnight decided.

    She would leave this place. She would run out, out, out. Flee from Shurun¡¯el. Flee from the pain and sorrow. Leave in search of sun and stars. What would follow her? What would she run into?

    Midnight did not care.

    * * *

    It was a grey morning. The pale light made everything sluggish and heavy. Outside, the rain fell. It tapped softly on the windows and roof, like a guest seeking their way in.

    And in this faded light, the assassin rested among sheets.

    The Moonbreaker had not made port in days. So for now, Umariel was caught up in this little corner of the world. But on this morning he would not have had it any other way.

    The crew would probably be looking for him. After several nights of boisterous parties, someone ought to step up and discipline them. But not him. Not today. Today he cared not for their troubles. Today there was only her. The woman he ashamedly loved. The woman he had spent the night with.

    Part of Umariel railed at himself. What had he done? How had he come to this? But another part felt liberated, freer than he¡¯d felt in years. Doubt and chaos rolled within him even as he lay calmly in bed. As he looked around he saw the discarded evidence strewn around the room. His leather overalls. Her black and scarlet cape.

    He had woken with the dawn and now he watched her sleep. That¡¯s all he could do. All he wanted rested beside him. Her bright face leant against his shoulder and her arm was draped around his neck.

    Umariel shivered. He remembered the cool touch of her skin on his. The feather-light caress of her lips. The scent of her hair and its mesmerising dance as she moved. Her voice, filled with desire.

    She stirred.

    Umariel took a breath. His fingers traced the curves of her body under the sheets as she woke.

    ¡®Umar,¡¯ she moaned softly. Her hand groped for him and found his face.

    ¡®I¡¯m here,¡¯ he replied.

    ¡®I didn¡¯t know you could be so gentle,¡¯ she said.

    ¡®Riri, I¡ª¡¯

    She slapped him playfully and laughed. ¡®I told you not to call me that.¡¯ The sleepiness which clung to her voice was maddening. He wanted all of her.

    ¡®Are there other things I do not know about you?¡¯

    ¡®In my homeland, I was known as Ymar.¡¯

    Fr¨¬ri?l rolled over and stared expectantly. The way she looked at him¡ªit did not matter that the world outside was grey.

    ¡®It¡¯s true,¡¯ he said.

    ¡®That¡¯s so silly. I like Umar much better.¡¯

    He smiled. ¡®Well, that¡¯s what I was born as back in Varadran. I had a brother, too.¡¯

    ¡®What was his name, Zezon?¡¯

    Umariel laughed but did not answer.

    ¡®This was before you left Senh¨¬a?¡¯

    ¡®Yes, but¡¯¡ªUmariel shook his head¡ª¡®no, I don¡¯t want to talk about it now. Look, I¡¯m sorry about last night. I let things get out of hand. I shouldn¡¯t have¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t be,¡¯ she said, and planted a kiss on his chest. ¡®I feel like I know you a bit better now.¡¯

    ¡®And you? I want to know you, Riri. Otherwise, this¡ª¡¯

    ¡®You know now that I¡¯m not always scary,¡¯ she said with a giggle. ¡®Umar, don¡¯t worry.¡¯ She huddled in closer and started to run her fingers through his hair. ¡®You know me. You found me.¡¯

    Umariel was taken back. To the fire. The carnage. The village and its people. What was left of them. And to the young girl who had caused it all. She sat there in the ashes sobbing, her skin red and black with blood and soot. A broken thing under a broken sky.

    ¡®I know Lord Despreaux only wants me for my strength,¡¯ she said, ¡®and that¡¯s fine, for we have a task to do. But you, you show me that there is something more in me. When I¡¯m with you, I feel as if I don¡¯t only have to destroy.¡¯

    Umariel could not find the words to express how much that resonated with him. Raised and trained to kill, he felt he was not much good at anything else. But in her, Umariel saw that perhaps he had more to offer. He lay there dumbfounded.

    ¡®Have I left you speechless again?¡¯ Fr¨¬ri?l winked.

    Umariel stammered. ¡®Uh, Riri, you ah, do that a lot. You¡¯re beautiful. But thank you. I want you to know I feel the same. I¡¯m just not very good at this.¡¯

    ¡®You are. You¡¯re wonderful.¡¯

    Umariel leant his head back. He wished he could agree. He pulled the sheets closer and listened to the rain.

    ¡®I don¡¯t want to be alone again,¡¯ Fr¨¬ri?l said suddenly, setting her head on his chest. ¡®Not ever.¡¯

    ¡®You won¡¯t.¡¯

    Fr¨¬ri?l raised her head. ¡®Promise?¡¯

    Umariel closed his eyes and kissed her again.

    * * *

    The moonlight had been kind this night. It masked Sanah¡¯?l¡¯s approach. Under the cover of dark she descended like a rock from the stars. Under the cover of stars she stepped through the foreign world beneath the clouds. And under the cover of clouds she now walked through meadows, nearing the city of stone and sapphire.

    Sanah¡¯?l was startled by the difference in the air. It felt warmer and older here. Everything was dim and dull. But at least she was glad to be on solid land again. Anywhere was better than being suspended between two realms. Even here. She veiled herself deeper with her cloak. This had been her world once. Long ago. But no longer. Now she wished to see it end, so she stepped through like a stranger.

    For the past few nights, Sanah¡¯?l¡¯s only companion had been the silence, her only conversation the repeated clashes with Rubi?l in her head. And her only dreams the constant reminders of being cast aside. She always saw two figures in her dreams¡ªindistinct yet familiar¡ªwho struggled and starved. They grew smaller while those around them grew larger and the walls grew higher.

    Then a hand piercing through the wall, pushing aside the hoarders to reach the two small, deprived figures. A hand which offered everything. A hand which she accepted.

    Sanah¡¯?l reached for her sword. Riala. Fortune. The one thing she¡¯d never known. She was grateful for her new name and calling.

    But it was not the night to dwell on those things any longer. Passing over a ridge and through a thicket, Sanah¡¯?l heard the river and glimpsed the city ahead. It stood like a jewel emerging out of rock. Blue buildings stuck out of grey stone, seemingly fused to the cliff side. The cloudy sky did not sully its radiance. It lived up to its title, but it was not the city she was interested in.

    For just a little further in, outside the city¡¯s perimeter yet within the shadow of its rocky walls, signs of a small camp appeared. And there, her dear Thari waited. Even in the low light of night¡¯s dead hours, Sanah¡¯?l could recognise him. Even outside his regular attire, she knew it was him. The fatigue and loneliness of the journey faded.

    He rushed to her and met her with a tight embrace.

    ¡®Sanah!¡¯ he exclaimed. His voice rang like a lute¡¯s melody in the night. She sank into his hug, reacquainting herself with the familiar comfort of his shoulders, arms, and chest. She¡¯d always forget how tall Thari was.

    Then he pulled back, lifted her head, and kissed her. Sanah¡¯?l savoured it long after his lips left hers.

    ¡®I¡¯m glad you¡¯ve come,¡¯ he said. ¡®Guard duty was becoming boring.¡¯

    ¡®The outfit, it suits you,¡¯ she said, impressed. Her fingers followed the buttons of the blue silk shirt up to his collar and then rested on his chin. ¡®It¡¯s good to see you.¡¯

    Thari smiled, and it was as if his whole face beamed. Sanah¡¯?l took in his indigo eyes¡ªdark as the deep sky¡ªand his russet hair.

    ¡®It¡¯s nice to see you in the lowlands, Sanah. When you sent for me, I had trouble believing you would actually come.¡¯

    Sanah¡¯?l groaned. ¡®Yeah, I was looking for an excuse to get out.¡¯

    ¡®So I¡¯m your excuse?¡¯ he said, grinning.

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ said Sanah¡¯?l, raising an eyebrow. ¡®Now, listen. There have been some developments,¡¯ she began gravely.

    ¡®Sanah, please,¡¯ Thari implored. ¡®We haven¡¯t seen each other in several turns of the moon. Business can wait. Let¡¯s enjoy this.¡¯

    She sighed, exhausted but content. ¡®Won¡¯t they be expecting you?¡¯

    ¡®No, I¡¯m not on duty again until third watch.¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯re right. I need to slow down,¡¯ Sanah¡¯?l said as she wrapped herself around him again.

    They stood there in an embrace while the river rolled pleasantly and the clouds passed unaware. He held her, stroking her hair. Sanah¡¯?l almost wished she could stay like this forever, buried in her secret. For none knew the extent to which Thari and her were involved.

    ¡®Is everything alright?¡¯ he asked.

    Sanah¡¯?l mumbled indistinctly.

    ¡®Rubi still giving you hell?¡¯

    She sighed into his chest, then broke into a tired laugh. Sanah¡¯?l was glad to have put distance between herself and that woman.

    ¡®Don¡¯t you worry,¡¯ he said. ¡®She doesn¡¯t have what you have.¡¯

    Sanah¡¯?l looked up, intrigued. ¡®And what¡¯s that?¡¯

    ¡®Me,¡¯ he said with a smirk.

    She struck him and scoffed. ¡®And how is it that I came to have you?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯ll let you find out for yourself.¡¯

    She groaned again. ¡®You¡¯re insufferable.¡¯

    ¡®You like that about me.¡¯

    ¡®Fine, then,¡¯ she said, narrowing her eyes at him. Then she broke off from him and walked near the fire. ¡®Now, how about you tell me something? How is the situation here?¡¯

    ¡®Slow,¡¯ he said. ¡®The man I¡¯m after is a recluse. Or at least, sometimes. Other times he goes out. But either he¡¯s in disguise or a ghost, because I never glimpse him.¡¯

    ¡®Well, you just might get your chance soon. Something has happened that will compel him to come out of hiding.¡¯

    ¡®Do tell.¡¯

    ¡®Our targets are on their way. All of them.¡¯

    ¡®Fascinating,¡¯ he said. ¡®How did this come about?¡¯

    ¡®Well, Shurun¡¯el failed his capture in Gohenur.¡¯

    ¡®Huh. Foolish little brother,¡¯ Thari said. ¡®Borboros must be fuming. Shurun¡¯el is not in with the most¡­ understanding of crowds over there.¡¯

    Sanah¡¯?l crouched and stoked the fire. She thought of her little brother. ¡®No, but he can handle himself. He¡¯s not my concern. But the targets reached Fara¡¯ethar and now they are being herded here.¡¯

    ¡®When will this happen?¡¯

    ¡®Within the tide.¡¯

    Thari began pacing around the small alcove. ¡®Excellent, if this goes well¡­¡¯

    ¡®You can achieve both our goals right here.¡¯

    ¡®Maybe then Umariel will stop boasting.¡¯

    Sanah¡¯?l chuckled, then stood up. ¡®I must leave,¡¯ she said. ¡®I¡¯m scampering about trying to inform the others of this. And also Lady Isila is unwell. She fears for the next step.¡¯

    ¡®Stay with me,¡¯ Thari said, stepping closer. ¡®Just for tonight. We can say our pained goodbye in the morning.¡¯

    ¡®What about your watch?¡¯

    ¡®There¡¯s plenty of time until then. Please.¡¯

    Sanah¡¯?l stepped closer to Thari. She dropped her possessions by the fire. ¡®Do I need to tell you again that you¡¯re insufferable,¡¯ she whispered. She let her passion take over and embraced him once more as the coals burned and the sky cleared.

 Chapter Seventeen - This Fading Day

    The day was set for an adventure. Milky clouds danced on a copper horizon. Glowing sunlight greeted the wakening meadows around Fara¡¯ethar and the sky seemed ready to sing. The morning song began with a rooster¡¯s screeching crow. It was a day for setting out.

    Asphales had slept peacefully, more so than he had in what felt like too long. He woke from gentler dreams this day. In his sleep he was carried slowly down streams of starlight. For once there were no torrents to assail him, no shadowy figures to pull him under. The sensations faded pleasantly as he stretched in his chamber.

    What lingered still, however, was the rush brought on by the time he had spent with Ad¨¦lia. His mind replayed the events. Propped up on the tower together under the immensity of the open sky, Asphales felt¡­ he was not quite sure what he felt. Comfort. Closeness. Connection, perhaps.

    Even when their words had ended, an easy quiet settled like the flickering flame of a candle in the dark. And even when she had bid goodnight, while everything inside him screamed not to let her go, he could see in her eyes that the comfort had been mutual. Unwritten, unspoken, yet present.

    But what to do about this kindled flame? How could he tend to it without it burning up or burning out? Asphales vowed then, as he stared up at the starlight for the final time that night. He would step carefully. He would not ask for what she could not give. And yet he would give of himself to her, what little strength and courage he could see in his heart, for Asphales was truly honoured to fight alongside her.

    But larger matters loomed ahead. He and Ad¨¦lia were only two strands weaved into an unfolding tapestry. Asphales could not help but imagine that it had all been a mistake. Was he truly the one to go forward and do this? He quietly prayed¡ªthat seemed appropriate¡ªthat Regulus would provide guidance. He was about to step farther than his fantasies. Beyond Fara¡¯ethar, a place he never thought he¡¯d see, in a role he never thought he¡¯d play.

    It was with these thoughts in mind that Asphales was caught when the clarion came. He found himself at his window, gazing out at the hidden distance of the sea, wishing he could touch the imaginary line where it met the sky. It was then that the knock at the door sounded.

    Asphales opened it only to find Ithil¨¬r standing in the doorway, looking as prim as ever.

    ¡®Good morning, master Asphales,¡¯ he said. There were no signs of exhaustion on the man¡¯s face or in his voice. It was not plain that he had served late into the night, catering at the feast. Asphales was convinced the master-servant perpetually imitated a statue.

    ¡®Good morning, Ithil¨¬r.¡¯

    The master-servant sighed. ¡®I had matters to address, but first I must deal with this. You room is a mess.¡¯

    Asphales glanced back at his room. His bedsheets and blankets were spread and strewn more than seemed possible during one night¡¯s sleep. His clothes¡ªboth from the feast and the previous days beside¡ªwere crumpled and tossed around the room. There was even a small table, complete with evidence of a messy dinner, taking up space. The only object intact and in place was his father¡¯s sword. And Ad¨¦lia¡¯s painting.

    Asphales turned back to the master-servant and smiled. ¡®I did not mean to impinge upon Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s hospitality,¡¯ he said, trying to conjure up a sufficiently sophisticated apology.

    ¡®Yes, yes. But I am not your mother,¡¯ Ithil¨¬r said.

    Thank Regulus for that, Asphales thought. ¡®I know, I¡¯ll clean it up,¡¯ is what he said instead.

    ¡®I trust that you will, if I¡¯ve shown you anything about propriety this past tide.¡¯

    Asphales beamed a smile.

    ¡®Now, back to business,¡¯ Ithil¨¬r said. ¡®I came to bring this.¡¯ He pointed across to a luggage trolley filled up with armour and clothing.

    ¡®Oh, that must be what I¡¯ll be wearing for Taeladran.¡¯

    ¡®Yes. These just came in from master Resina.¡¯

    Asphales pushed past and wheeled in the trolley. He rummaged through quickly, delighted. Though he could not take in all the details now, he was overwhelmed by the colours of crimson and silver. Then he turned to Ithil¨¬r once more. ¡®Valinos and I are leaving for a while. How does that make you feel, Ithil¨¬r?¡¯

    ¡®Ecstatic.¡¯

    ¡®But what will you do while we¡¯re gone?¡¯

    ¡®Rejoice.¡¯

    ¡®I can¡¯t imagine that.¡¯

    ¡®Then picture half my workload being relieved.¡¯

    Asphales laughed. ¡®Ithil¨¬r, thank you for everything.¡¯ He then threw himself onto the master-servant and hugged him. Ithil¨¬r was evidently unaccustomed to displays of affection, for he showed the response customary of a statue. He did nothing.

    ¡®You are to meet at the Lion Gate in half a watch,¡¯ the master-servant said, unperturbed, when Asphales pulled away. With that he left, his gait sounding down the hallway.

    Asphales¡¯ attention was drawn to the gear in his room. He closed the door and promptly rushed to the mirror in order to get attired. As he strapped on the breastplate, arm braces, and greaves, he noted with delight that he was getting better at dressing. If nothing else, at least he would look the part he was meant to play. He would be ready.

    Asphales clasped the cloak in place and appraised himself in the mirror. The crimson mantle draped a silver breastplate wound with swirling motifs. A night-black tunic underneath ended in a layered fauld reinforced with steel to protect his waist and hips. Coarse woollen trousers of the same colour were topped by leather and steel greaves. And on his arms, gauntlets and vambraces of similar material, both engraved. Master Resina was an artist as well, it seemed.

    And him? Warrior? Or simply a boy pretending?

    Asphales walked over to his nightstand and lifted his sword. Hefting this blade gave him courage somehow. His father had once drawn this very sword against evil. It had been radiant and powerful. Could he now learn to wield that same light and do likewise?

    As he prepared to leave the room, Asphales¡¯ eyes fell on the painting he had received. Glancing at Ad¨¦lia¡¯s handiwork, he saw a glimmer of what he could be. Captured on canvas was confidence he had not yet gained and strength he could not yet see.

    Asphales tightened his grip around the sword, threw it on his shoulder, and closed the door behind him.

    * * *

    Valinos clicked open the door to the armoury, letting in cool morning air. Silnod¨¬r was barely awake, the faintest rays of light breaking behind clouds, but Valinos was alert. Ready to leave with the dawn. Ready to leave all this behind.

    He snuck through, gold-light and crickets giving way to forge-fire and steam. Inside, blades and armour parts seemed to stretch on endlessly along metal shelves. Like a library of steel.

    Valinos made his way to the worktable where his newest blade awaited, freshly finished. A bright silver edge and a hilt covered in red felt. Nameless as yet.

    He strapped the sheath around his waist and slid in the sword. He looked around for armour, but then stopped himself.

    What was he doing?

    Was he really prepared to leave on a whim, at the word of a messaged carried by a strange creature and crass strangers? It was like one of Asphales¡¯ foolish stories.

    He sighed. But anything was better than this. He reached for a helmet.

    ¡®Why do you feel the need to sneak around your own home?¡¯ a voice called from the dark of the workshop.

    Valinos flinched.

    Paran stepped out of the shadows. His hardy features, forged as if by metal, lit up in red. ¡®What,¡¯ he said, ¡®the Guard decided to take you along as well?¡¯

    Valinos said nothing and took down the helmet. He shuffled around, stuffing some provisions into a pack. He could feel Paran¡¯s eyes following him.

    ¡®You only visit when you want something,¡¯ Paran said. ¡®So like a thief will you now just take and leave?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m only taking what¡¯s mine.¡¯ Valinos steeled himself and turned, facing the man before him. This was not his father. This was not his home.

    ¡®I gave you all you have. Without me¡ª¡¯

    ¡®You gave me everything except what I needed¡¯ Valinos burst. A father. A family. Valinos grit his teeth and clung to his longing and his jealousy as he recalled seeing Asphales in the embrace of his parents.

    Asphales. A light. A friend. Even when all had been lost.

    ¡®Son,¡¯ Paran began.

    ¡®No,¡¯ Valinos said. ¡®It is far too late.¡¯ He shouldered his pack.

    Paran scrunched his features. Whether out of anger or anguish, Valinos did not care. He pressed on past the armourer and trudged toward the door.

    ¡®I knew this day would come,¡¯ Paran said. ¡®I knew you would run. You have it in you just like¡ª¡¯

    ¡®I would rather be like them,¡¯ Valinos cut in coldly, ¡®than anything like you.¡¯ He walked on, lifting down and carrying a breastplate.

    ¡®Val,¡¯ Paran called.

    Possessions in hand, Valinos unlatched the door and took a step.

    ¡®Val,¡¯ Paran said, defeated. ¡®I am sorry, my son. May they treat you better than I did.¡¯

    Valinos shut the door¡­

    For a second time, Valinos was preparing to leave. Outside Fara¡¯ethar, by the Lion Gate, he overlooked the swirling stone mass of the city. The sky looked much like it had that day, gold bleeding into blue. The same chill wind had blown.

    What was different now? Had he become a different man? Valinos looked down. He held two blades in hand; one silver, one black. His own handiwork, this time put to use for himself rather than for others. He was now slightly more travelled and more tested, but was it enough to do what he must?

    And where to next? Asphales was about to be off learning¡ªwhat, exactly? But he¡­

    Valinos sighed, closed his eyes, and lifted his head.

    Someone stepped near. ¡®Good morning,¡¯ a man called out.

    Valinos glanced over and saw Ishak approach. The commander¡¯s walk was steady and firm and he carried himself with military efficiency even when he seemed relaxed. His eyes matched the warm, golden sunrise washing over Anardes.

    ¡®Good morning,¡¯ Valinos said as he tried putting his doubts and thoughts away.

    ¡®Good grief, your friend wasn¡¯t kidding when he said you brood like Kenthis clouds over a prairie.¡¯ Ishak¡¯s gentle voice softened the blow of his words, and Valinos could not help but offer a smile. ¡®You and Darius both,¡¯ he added.

    ¡®Well, I¡¯ll take it as a compliment to be told that I am cut from the same cloth as the Amarant.¡¯

    ¡®Aye, but you could both lighten up. Didn¡¯t we just spend a whole night in festivities?¡¯

    Valinos shrugged and sheathed his swords. ¡®Will you be joining us, Ishak?¡¯

    ¡®No. With half of you questing north and the other half sailing, someone has to stay back and keep order.¡¯ He smiled again. ¡®I¡¯ll be with you as far as the stables.¡¯

    Not long after Ishak arrived, the others joined. Amaleron appeared¡ªlooking ever as a wizened old man¡ªwith Darius and Catena in tow. His staff clicked lightly against the cobblestone path and the two Amarants spoke quietly. Not far behind them, El¡¯enur strode with his usual confidence and chatted to Asphales. A woman he recognised from the feast walked alongside them, blue streaks through her raven hair. Valinos vaguely remembered Asphales mentioning to him that such markings were the signs of a scholar. But she was garbed in practical gear, as if attired for battle or duty. A scholar-soldier, perhaps? Well, he had witnessed stranger things in recent times.

    Amaleron led the small congregation over. A small party for a large task.

    ¡®Good morning, all,¡¯ the steward said, his voice resonant, carrying across the morning. ¡®Let us be off to the stables. I wish you to be on your way before the sun is high. Speed and secrecy are your allies as you travel to Taeladran.¡¯

    As they trekked down the pathway leading into Guladran, Asphales walked over to Valinos. He noticed that Asphales was clothed in very similar attire, save for their cloaks. Whereas Asphales¡¯ was crimson, Valinos donned a navy blue.

    ¡®I see you¡¯ve made good use of my former sword Anfr¨¬r,¡¯ Asphales said, drawing near as they stepped briskly into the city. Amaleron and Darius led the group with haste in silence.

    ¡®It¡¯s a fine blade, sullied only by its name. Never trust a fisherman with steel.¡¯

    Asphales laughed and shook his head. ¡®You do know I don¡¯t like fishing that much?¡¯

    ¡®Could¡¯ve fooled me with that stench.¡¯

    Asphales narrowed his eyes. ¡®You¡¯re particularly prickly today. Oh! Is this because I embarrassed you in front of¡­¡¯ he looked around conspiratorially.

    ¡®Asphales,¡¯ said Valinos, ¡®I have two swords. I¡¯ve got you outnumbered.¡¯

    Asphales lifted his hands in surrender. ¡®Alright, alright, I know when to stop prodding the bear.¡¯ He smiled.

    The two walked on some time without speaking. Valinos¡¯ thoughts soared and circled back, not to his confusion, but to her. Fen¡¯asel, the girl bounding with such freedom. A part of him tightened. He had always been distant from affection. But if he could open himself up to a friend¡­ why not to another also?

    I knew this day would come. I knew you would run.

    ¡®So,¡¯ Asphales said suddenly, ¡®here we are, my friend. And further still we go.¡¯

    Valinos shook away the ghosts and noticed the group had stopped, having reached the stables. Even the smell was noticeably different. Sterile stone was replaced by the scent of earth and beast. Lively wood instead of dour rock decorated the structure in front of them. Trainers and riders led horses to feeding troughs or groomed them. Horses were something of a luxury in Silnod¨¬r, but here they were far more common, and the premises were well-stocked. The stable stretched on along the northern wall of Guladran and beyond it, a gate led to open country.

    Darius grabbed El¡¯enur and Ishak and walked into the stalls, presumably to secure mounts for the journey ahead. Catena and Amaleron stood to the side.

    ¡®You¡¯re right,¡¯ Valinos said to Asphales. ¡®Onward we go.¡¯ He drew Gulren and raised it. Asphales looked on quizzically. ¡®I never returned the gesture properly the other night,¡¯ Valinos said. ¡®You know, for my part of the oath.¡¯

    Asphales smiled, then nodded solemnly.

    Darius came out holding the reins to a monstrous black stallion, decked with burnished steel and a fine, sturdy saddle. El¡¯enur brought out a smaller creature, somewhat unsteadily.

    ¡®El¡¯enur? You¡¯re coming along?¡¯ Asphales asked.

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ he said nonchalantly. ¡®I want to see your progress.¡¯

    ¡®The lad had to do something unimaginable,¡¯ Darius said, patting his animal. ¡®He came to me with a very¡­ impassioned plea.¡¯

    ¡®It¡¯s alright, Darius,¡¯ he huffed, ¡®you can say I begged.¡¯

    ¡®Just trying to save you the discomfort,¡¯ the Amarant said, chuckling.

    ¡®Stars above, Darius, I feel I owe it to them.¡¯

    Darius smiled, and Asphales followed suit. El¡¯enur pursed his lips and shuffled.

    ¡®Besides,¡¯ he added, ¡®you¡¯ll need a master archer with you. If you can learn to fight against me, you¡¯ll never have trouble with ranged opponents again.¡¯

    ¡®There¡¯s the El I know,¡¯ Darius said. He then turned to the woman with blue hair. ¡®Lady Nelesa, will you be needing one? I thought you were leaving with the others to Sanaros.¡¯

    ¡®I am, but I can¡¯t trust El¡¯enur around a horse. I have to watch he doesn¡¯t break a nail or scrape a toe getting into the saddle.¡¯

    El¡¯enur scowled, then broke into a knowing smile.

    Moments later, Ishak returned, guiding two brown geldings. He linked their ropes to the reins of Darius¡¯ steed. ¡®These will keep them steady,¡¯ he said to Asphales and Valinos, ¡®as long as you don¡¯t spook them too much. And Mas¨¬lminur is trained to keep pace with others in tow.¡¯

    ¡®I haven¡¯t ridden much,¡¯ Asphales said sheepishly.

    ¡®That¡¯s alright,¡¯ Ishak replied. ¡®Darius and his horse will do most of the work. You just keep your hind on the saddle.¡¯

    Valinos approached the mount that was to be his ride. The horse eyed him queerly. He did not know how to make sense of the awkward tangle of ropes, hair, and leather bits. Beside him, the one called Lady Catena hopped on to her horse effortlessly and caressed its mane as she settled in. But even more than the scarlet-haired Amarant, Darius looked comfortable on his stallion. Like he belonged on that jet black beast, armed with a greatsword of the same colour. Together they were a visage of death, and Valinos was suddenly glad they were on his side.

    Ishak helped him up on his horse with practiced motions, as if he had assisted countless squires before. Then he lent a hand to Asphales, who had similar trouble hauling himself up. Ishak patted him on the back. ¡®There you go, lad,¡¯ he said.

    Amaleron stepped forward at that moment, ready to address them. ¡®Go forth with all the blessings of Regulus and Carinae. Seek out Taeladran and look for Lord Elan. He will guide you further. Asphales, my boy, there you must learn to awaken your lifeforce if you are to stand before the Dragonking¡¯s return. I will stand guard here and learn what more I can.

    All of you, may you leave in peace and return in strength and honour.¡¯ A flit of starlight lit the old steward¡¯s staff as he spoke. Then he lifted his right hand, making the now-familiar sign. ¡®Starlight gu¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Wait!¡¯ someone shouted out. ¡®Wait!¡¯ Panting and frantic footfalls filled the morning. A girl with frizzy hair and dishevelled clothing¡ªclearly thrown on in haste¡ªrushed to the stable¡¯s exit near the gate.

    It was Fen¡¯asel. She screeched to a stop and looked at the group preparing to depart. Amaleron accosted her with a pout but did not seem to mind the disturbance. Carrying obvious signs of a sleep-in, Fen¡¯asel caught her breath and then approached more gracefully. Valinos¡¯ eyes fixed on her. Her brown eyes, her beaming smile.

    ¡®I¡¯ve brought provisions for the road,¡¯ she said, holding out several wrapped bundles of black cloth. Then she drew back. ¡®Pardon my intrusion!¡¯

    ¡®Lady Erilen,¡¯ Amaleron said, ¡®there is nothing to pardon. Thank you. I am sure the company will be delighted.¡¯ He waved his arm toward the group on horseback.

    ¡®I am so glad someone thought of it,¡¯ El¡¯enur said out loud. ¡®I may have forgotten to pack food.¡¯

    ¡®Do you have anything useful in there?¡¯ Ishak asked.

    ¡®I make a pointed effort to carry the essentials,¡¯ El¡¯enur said as he lifted the flaps on his saddlebags to reveal several bundles of arrows. Nelesa groaned.

    Fen¡¯asel walked over to Valinos¡¯ mount and held up a parcel. As Valinos took it, a warm yet faintly sharp fragrance tipped his nostrils. ¡®Is this¡­?¡¯

    Fen¡¯asel grinned. ¡®Your favourite.¡¯

    He nodded to her and held her gaze. ¡®Thank you, Fen. I will see you when I return.¡¯ Valinos realised then he did not know how long that would be.

    ¡®You better. There will be more and you can only get it here.¡¯

    Valinos nodded. Fen then visited each of the riders in turn, handing them parcels. ¡®Keep him out of trouble,¡¯ he heard her say to Asphales.

    Asphales glanced over and smiled. ¡®I¡¯ll try, whenever I¡¯m not in trouble myself.¡¯

    Once each member of the group had received their Hawkspie, she joined Nelesa and Ishak, who had moved to the side, and faced the departing group.

    Amaleron reformed his hand sign, holding up three fingers.

    ¡®Starlight guide you.¡¯

    The others repeated the gesture and its accompanying words.

    Then the company turned and strode off, the clomping of their mounts making unsteady rhythms along the road. They rode out through the north gate into the morning sun and the golden land beyond.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    * * *

    Ad¨¦lia galloped through a broken land. While sun-streaked clouds spilled above her, chasing her like billowing waves, she dashed through grasslands dead and marred.

    Caught between golden beauty above and scarred brokenness below, her mount forged ahead, like a flowing river charting its own course. But it brought no life to the still and stagnant land; no flowers sprouted nor grass blades danced around her. No creature¡¯s song filled the void.

    Lacking. Longing.

    For this was the place where shadow once threatened to swallow the world.

    The fields here were too open. The company felt it too, but she perhaps more acutely than the others. There were no trees here to shield her, no walls to enclose her. Far from Gohenur, far even from her second home in Fara¡¯ethar, Ad¨¦lia felt exposed out here, like a droplet of dew hanging and poised to fall.

    Up ahead, Darius led their charge, trailed by the two geldings carrying Asphales and Valinos. To the side, El¡¯enur followed along, having grown accustomed to horse travel. They did not slow pace and barely spoke. The group intended to reach more reclusive ground by nightfall. Even though the northern garrison outside the castle¡¯s districts had reported nothing suspicious, still the crew had kept their guard up and trod carefully.

    Asphales looked around often, seemingly disturbed and entranced by what he saw. The Scarred Fields were curious, bearing marks of battle that never faded and an unnatural stillness that never shifted.

    Ad¨¦lia pulled up her horse next to his. ¡®I suspect you already know what happened here,¡¯ she said, her voice fighting the wind.

    Asphales nodded slowly, regarding the fragmented landscape. Vast patches of grass stretched out, blackened and ever stunted. In the distance, cracks spread in the earth where the land seemed to have split and fallen into itself. And further still, spurting streams ended in waterfalls on the edge of oblivion. Forests¡ªthe sparse outskirts of Gohenur¡ªsteeped precariously over the abyss.

    All broken. All hurting.

    ¡®I¡¯ve read about it so many times,¡¯ Asphales said, ¡®but seeing it is so different.¡¯ There was lament in his voice. ¡®Here my father, and yours, fought.¡¯

    ¡®Yes. Here the Ten drove back the Dragonking. They weaved through dragonflame and shadowed blade to push back the dark. But you can see that for all their efforts, our world is still affected.¡¯

    As am I, she wanted to say.

    ¡®This is why I told you,¡¯ she continued, ¡®that I cannot stand to let the world fall. This is why we must finish this, Asphales Es¨¦linor.¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯re right.¡¯ He straightened.

    She offered him a hushed smile.

    Darius turned to the group. ¡®Not too far now,¡¯ he said. ¡®We should reach Splinter¡¯s Approach by sundown. We¡¯ll rest for a bit, and from there it¡¯s only a few hours¡¯ ride to Taeladran at this pace.¡¯

    Though Ad¨¦lia was sure the others were fatigued, none voiced a word of complaint. They understood the importance of the task ahead. Silently, they pushed on, the wind alone as music.

    Ad¨¦lia retreated into her own thoughts. As the sun passed overhead, it sunk behind the Sundered¡ªanother reminder of this ruptured land¡ªand cast deep, surreal shadows. Day reddened into sunset, and beneath a blood-spattered sky, Ad¨¦lia was reminded of him. Flashes of an awful figure all of fire and steel crossed her mind. However much she fought for this world, she also had another duty.

    To cast down into darkness the one who had stolen her light.

    As daylight faded, the landscape changed around the company. Flat and parched ground marked the boundaries of Splinter¡¯s Approach. Eventually, they would give way drastically to the meadows around Taeladran. But here, ridges rose which shielded them from the east wind. Cactus plants dotted the arid landscape, leading into the distance where the trees of Gohenur¡¯s outermost reaches grappled for hold.

    Satisfied with the amount of cover, Darius halted the company with a whistle. ¡®We¡¯ll make camp here,¡¯ he said. ¡®El¡¯enur!¡¯

    At the Amarant¡¯s signal, El¡¯enur drew closer and led the group into an opening. He dismounted first and tied the horse¡¯s ropes around a triumphant cactus plant.

    ¡®Feels good to be back on my own two legs,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, stretching. ¡®Something I can trust.¡¯

    Darius hopped off Mas¨¬lminur and hitched him around the same makeshift post. He loosened the ties to the two geldings as Valinos and Asphales unsaddled. He whispered his thanks to the horse and immediately set to work unlading the saddle bags.

    Ad¨¦lia drew in last of all, hitching her mount also. As she stepped off, it took a moment for the weight to settle in her feet. She rested her spear against the wall of the rock formation and unclasped her breastplate, setting it down. The evening wind soon bit through her cotton shirt.

    Darius had already directed the group to a task. Asphales and Valinos unloaded the few chunks of firewood their mounts could carry while Darius gathered stones for an improvised fire-ring. El¡¯enur was given the striker and flint and told to procure additional kindling. He came back with a few flat boulders and a couple of logs. ¡®For seats,¡¯ he said.

    Soon, a fire crackled and the company huddled around its welcome flame. Night truly settled in. Above, the stars twinkled and winked knowingly, spreading silent rumours and telling tales without words.

    Darius sat down last of all. He rummaged through a pack and drew out a pot, setting it on the cleverly-arranged stones around the fire. He filled it with water from a skin and set out ingredients around him in preparation for a stew; carrots, potatoes, and salt-cured cuts of meat.

    ¡®Would you like assistance, Darius?¡¯ Ad¨¦lia offered.

    ¡®There will be no need, Lady Catena. I drove the group hard today. Consider this my treat to you all.¡¯

    El¡¯enur cheered. ¡®So you do have a heart, commander. But I do hope you¡¯ve brought a finer knife. Somehow I don¡¯t think Blackfrost was designed as a peeler.¡¯

    Darius chuckled, glancing toward his sword before producing a small dagger from his pocket. He began shaving away at the vegetables, flinging each slice into the pot. ¡®It won¡¯t be much,¡¯ he said, ¡®but it will hold us until Taeladran.¡¯

    El¡¯enur pouted. ¡®Well, at least dessert is covered,¡¯ he said, looking toward the bundle of Hawkspie, then to Valinos, ¡®thanks to your lady friend.¡¯

    Valinos almost blushed and Asphales nudged him on the shoulder. Ad¨¦lia had noticed that around Fen¡¯asel, Valinos seemed warmer and lighter. She numbed the poison in his heart.

    ¡®Don¡¯t think we didn¡¯t notice,¡¯ El¡¯enur goaded.

    Valinos coughed. ¡®Where did you get that sword?¡¯ he asked Darius, probably as a way to divert attention from his reddening cheeks.

    The Amarant stopped, breaking the rhythm of his cuts for a breath. Then he picked up again. ¡®It is¡­ a family heirloom. But it has been in Kerena long before my clan. The stories say the country¡¯s first conqueror wielded it. But whether he found it or forged it, I do not know.¡¯

    The others listened with rapt attention, occasionally daring to look at the blade which rested beside the Amarant. The sword¡¯s black surface sheened sinuously.

    ¡®It is called Blackfrost. Some sick irony, I¡¯m sure, for it burns with bloodlust. I curse him who dared to create such a thing.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia looked away. She knew something of the burden this man carried. Better him than others to bear this weight. That¡¯s what Darius believed. Better him than that the enemy should wield it. That¡¯s what he told himself.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ Darius said, moving on to dice the cuts of meat. He brought out the spices as well. ¡®There is no need for such gloom around a fire,¡¯ he continued, ¡®but this is the reality. History is written in blood, not ink. And we cross a bridge built on the bodies of the fallen. If I can build a better day, then it will have been worth the cost.¡¯

    Asphales glanced down, folding his hands together. ¡®I don¡¯t quite understand,¡¯ he said. ¡®I don¡¯t know if I ever will.¡¯

    ¡®All I know,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, ¡®is that you¡¯ve deprived Kerena of a deadly weapon. It will make them think twice before invading again.¡¯

    ¡®What will we find at Taeladran?¡¯ Asphales asked after some time. Ad¨¦lia could sense he was afraid of where this path would take him.

    ¡®I¡¯m not sure, lad,¡¯ said Darius. ¡®But you need to be prepared. We may have done some work each day, but that won¡¯t be enough against whatever you will face. I¡­ we all need you to be ready. I am speaking to you as well, Lady Catena. You and this man are gifted. You two can rise above us.¡¯

    At those words, something seized inside Ad¨¦lia. A deep fear, a gnawing apprehension in the corner of her heart.

    Ad¨¦lia.

    No. She could not.

    You are a flower, trampled and beset by flame.

    I cannot.

    You must rise and bloom again.

    How? How could she learn to use what was taken? She feared failure. Failing herself. Her family. Her world.

    She scrunched her fists, feeling unsteady.

    ¡®A¡ªAre you alright?¡¯ Asphales asked. Ad¨¦lia looked up. His jasper eyes were locked on hers. If only he knew the strength and security she could see in him, despite his doubts. She nodded.

    ¡®Here,¡¯ Darius said a while later, offering her a small bowl with the first of the stew. He poured on some seasoning and she took it. Ad¨¦lia suddenly noticed the wafting smell of the stew, the warmth of the bubbling thing in her hands.

    She took a sip, feeling refreshed by the simple, homely taste which burned away more than the chill air. ¡®Thank you,¡¯ she said.

    ¡®Everyone else, feel free to help yourself,¡¯ Darius said, passing around other clay bowls.

    El¡¯enur, Asphales, and Valinos dug in keenly. They sipped the stew together in a moment of camaraderie under a perfect, cloudless sky. Darius joined in contentedly.

    ¡®Good food, pleasant company, nice weather¡­ We could do worse,¡¯ El¡¯enur said as he put down the bowl after a hearty mouthful. ¡®It¡¯s certainly more than what Lanurel enjoyed when he camped on the Stormpeak for nights on end.¡¯

    ¡®I know that story,¡¯ Asphales piped up. ¡®He was seeking out the Dreadspawn then.¡¯

    ¡®Aye, part of his quest to impress the mad King of Stone.¡¯

    ¡®I remember parts as well,¡¯ Valinos said, ¡®because Asphales here told it so many times. Didn¡¯t the beast¡­ spill fire when it was struck?¡¯

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said, ¡®and its shriek called down lightning bolts.¡¯

    ¡®The story scared me when I was a child,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®My parents used it to teach us fear.¡¯

    ¡®In my family it was more of a curse,¡¯ El¡¯enur said. ¡®Father would call us all ¡°bloody Dreadspawn¡± when we misbehaved.¡¯

    ¡®I guess he didn¡¯t realise that makes either him or your mother the Dread,¡¯ Valinos said.

    El¡¯enur laughed. ¡®I guess not.¡¯ He took another sip and sighed, savouring the taste. ¡®Ah, a meal unspoiled by the nagging of that bald buffoon,¡¯ El¡¯enur said. ¡®But Darius, I didn¡¯t know you had a single culinary bone in your body.¡¯

    ¡®The Kerenani learn to fend for themselves from a young age.¡¯ Though the Amarant said it jovially, there were whispers of pain. Hidden beneath muddy water.

    ¡®This is far better than what Valinos and I lived off all these years,¡¯ said Asphales.

    ¡®Well, you may have caught the fish,¡¯ Valinos taunted, ¡®but you sure couldn¡¯t cook them.¡¯ The group laughed and El¡¯enur threw his arm around Asphales¡¯ neck as if the jest had been his.

    After each member had drained the stew in their bowls, Valinos brought out the parcels of Hawkspie and distributed them. Ad¨¦lia bit into the soft pastry, delighted at the clash of favours.

    ¡®Remind me to give Fen¡¯asel my compliments,¡¯ El¡¯enur said.

    Darius shot him a look. ¡®Not if I have anything to say about it.¡¯

    El¡¯enur¡¯s face fell, looking deflated. The rest of the group laughed at his expense.

    ¡®I dare say there is only one person here she would like to hear from,¡¯ Asphales said.

    Valinos grunted testily.

    ¡®There, I¡¯ve said it. You can now strike me down, Prince of Gloom and Swords!¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t be ashamed,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said, smiling. ¡®It is wonderful.¡¯

    Valinos shrunk away, taking another bite of the Hawkspie.

    ¡®So, Asphales, you know the tales of Lanurel,¡¯ Darius began when the laughter died down, ¡®but grew up among fishermen. You¡¯re a curious man. Tell us, what was it you dreamt of doing before¡­ well, before you got caught up in all this?¡¯

    A hush fell around the fire. Ad¨¦lia leaned in, her dessert forgotten for the moment.

    Asphales stared into the snapping flames before he looked up to speak. ¡®I¡¯ve¡­ always wanted to sail,¡¯ he said. ¡®To see the world. My father was a sailor. I suppose he would¡¯ve been around when seas and stars were young. But even now, I want to know what is out there, far to the north beyond my home, far out beyond the reach of songs and stories.¡¯

    As he spoke, Ad¨¦lia saw the keenness in his eyes, heard the passion in his voice.

    I have a friend who loves the sea. A warm voice from long ago.

    Then the sharp sting of betrayal. Her home destroyed by one striding the sea. The black threatened to swallow her like a tide.

    ¡®That¡¯s why I signed on with fishermen and sailors in the first place,¡¯ Asphales was saying. ¡®I could never afford a ship of my own.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia turned away. She could not let them see the tears welling in her eyes, forming like blackened gemstones.

    ¡®Nadros would love you,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®I¡¯m sure he could take you sailing one day. When all this is done.¡¯

    ¡®I wager he would not be against making you his first mate,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, ¡®but you¡¯ve got some competition. It would take something special to replace his current one. Leara is seriously¡ª¡¯

    Darius frowned at him.

    ¡®¡ªgood at what she does.¡¯ El¡¯enur cleared his throat. ¡®I must be thirsty.¡¯ He drew out a wineskin and put it to his mouth. He leant against the rocky wall.

    Asphales beamed. ¡®I¡­ I would love to sail with the Amarant.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia¡¯s mind was on her own ambitions. Could she aspire to anything beyond the thought of vengeance? For now, she could not make sense of her dark and starless dreams.

    El¡¯enur suddenly stood forward. He lowered the wineskin, looking into the distance with furrowed brow.

    ¡®Are you going to pass the wine? Darius asked, extending his hand.

    El¡¯enur shook himself. ¡®Pardon, but, are we expecting company?¡¯ he said, pointing beyond the group. The others turned in unison. Ad¨¦lia could see it. In the distance, a discernible figure walked toward the camp. Their cloak billowed as they stepped lightly through the sparse foliage among the expanse of dirt. As the figure got closer, Ad¨¦lia could make out that it was a man.

    Darius rose. ¡®Be on guard,¡¯ he hissed. He walked out a few steps from the fire. ¡®Are you lost, sir?¡¯ he called out.

    ¡®Not as lost as you are, surely,¡¯ the man spoke back. Though he did not raise his voice, the man¡¯s tone carried through the night.

    ¡®Who are you?¡¯ Darius tried.

    ¡®Who is it that asks?¡¯ The man walked closer.

    ¡®A company of Fara¡¯ethar.¡¯

    ¡®Ah, very good.¡¯ He sounded pleased. ¡®You could run into worse things in the dark.¡¯

    The figure stepped into the light of the fire. He was dressed in colourful robes of gossamer and satin, outrageously exquisite for a night-time wanderer. His finery was barely hidden under a cloak several shades darker than the sky. If anything, the man looked like royalty. He was tall and wide-shouldered, and he bore a neatly trimmed brown beard matching his short, slicked hair. With a sharply-sculpted face, he did not look older than thirty.

    The company was speechless. ¡®Can we help you?¡¯ Darius asked.

    ¡®I am looking for sustenance, or¡­¡¯ His ruby eyes scanned the campsite. He pushed past and snatched the wineskin out of El¡¯enur¡¯s hand. ¡®Or this.¡¯ He took a deep draught. ¡®Mm, a Senh¨¬ vintage. Auvall region, if I am not mistaken. Quite nice.¡¯ His speech was coloured with the lilt of a foreigner, perhaps someone who had spent time in the East.

    ¡®I know you!¡¯ Asphales shouted.

    ¡®I truly doubt that, my friend. You may have seen me. But to know someone is an entirely different matter.¡¯ He took another sip and wiped his lips.

    ¡®What? You¡¯re familiar with this man?¡¯ asked El¡¯enur.

    ¡®You were there that night,¡¯ Asphales said, slumping.

    ¡®I am in many places on many nights,¡¯ the man said. ¡®You will have to be more specific.¡¯ He returned the wineskin to El¡¯enur, who stood stunned nearby. ¡®Thank you, my slack-jawed friend,¡¯ the man said.

    ¡®On a Meadsbell night,¡¯ Valinos filled in. ¡®At the Waypoint Inn. I remember you as well.¡¯

    ¡®Oh, yes. You two were with the Guard. Whatever happened to those delightful chaps?¡¯

    ¡®They¡­ lost their lives protecting us,¡¯ Asphales said.

    The stranger sighed. ¡®How tragic. And they wonder why I drink.¡¯

    ¡®What did you mean, then?¡¯ Asphales said, his gaze determined. ¡®You said you were waiting for me.¡¯

    ¡®Meaning is a tricky thing, my boy,¡¯ he began. ¡®Not to be confused with intent. But quite simply¡ª¡¯

    A shriek tore through the night, an unearthly howl that shook the stones. Ad¨¦lia jumped to her feet, startled by the quaking. She could feel the cry¡¯s dying echo in her chest.

    ¡®Ah, not good. This is one of those things you do not want to run into.¡¯

    ¡®What do you know of this?¡¯ Darius asked, reaching for Blackfrost.

    ¡®I may have drawn a¡­ friend. One that does not entirely like me.¡¯

    * * *

    Amarant Darius breathed heavily, staring down the length of his blade. He gripped Blackfrost in front of him as an explorer would a torch. But he intended not to brighten but to banish whatever would arise. He unhooked his fur cloak and let it fall.

    Protect them.

    There was a rumble in the distance, as if something was stamping toward the campsite. Darius slowed his churning mind even as his blood rushed.

    ¡®Lady Catena! El¡¯enur! To me,¡¯ he called. ¡®We¡¯ll draw whatever comes away from the camp. Asphales! Valinos! Stay back and take care of the stranger. Find somewhere to hide and guard the horses.¡¯ At the Amarant¡¯s command, the others snapped to position.

    ¡®Alright, if you fine folk think you can take care of this, I will gladly sit out,¡¯ the man said. He sat down on a stone and turned his back to the oncoming danger. Foolish man.

    Cracks and crashes sounded. Trees toppled in the distance.

    Lady Catena rushed to her mount. All but Mas¨¬lminur were spooked, neighing and tromping wildly, struggling against their restraints. In moments she returned, armour clasped and gleaming spear in hand. El¡¯enur took up stance, bow armed and arrow nocked. Even Asphales and Valinos drew their weapons, shaky though they seemed.

    The thing appeared from over the hill.

    ¡®Snow and ashes, what have you brought upon us?¡¯

    It was a rannak.

    ¡®What is this? I have never seen one so large,¡¯ Catena said.

    Darius faced down the huge, boar-like creature. Its muscled exterior was covered by black fur. Stout legs carried it across the plains with speed surprising for its size. Beady eyes peered out high above its snout, and it was armed with tusks long as a man, set in its jaw like proud banners on a castle wall.

    Only this wall was charging straight toward them.

    Darius felt sweat clamming his neck. He had known about the rannakim in the area, and even faced some before, but it was uncharacteristic of these creatures to stray so far from the forest.

    And of course, none had been as massive as the one in front him. The full beast stood as tall as a house, casting an ominous shadow in the moonlight.

    The wild beast roared ferociously again, having spotted its adversaries. Too late to run now, Darius had to engage.

    ¡®El¡¯enur! Aim for its eyes,¡¯ the Amarant yelled as he started running at the rannak. Catena followed suit beside him.

    The archer complied. He bounded north and released several shots in quick succession. The boy¡¯s aim had been true, but the arrows bounced harmlessly off the creature. The plates around its eyes were too thick. It rushed unfazed, trampling down cacti and kicking up dust.

    Darius ran forward. Mere steps from the creature.

    The rannak reared its head for a strike. Darius dove to the left, barely keeping his grip on Blackfrost as he tumbled through the dirt. The creature¡¯s tusks scraped ground.

    Recovering to his feet quickly, Darius attempted his own blow. He dug at the creature¡¯s side, but the sword could find no purchase. It merely cut away some of the rannak¡¯s fur.

    Lady Catena had dodged the attack also, and was now testing the beast¡¯s back with her spear. The rannak howled in annoyance and kicked up its back legs. Catena wove around them in time to avoid what would have been a devastating blow.

    El¡¯enur, now far to the right, continued to loosen arrows. They fared a little better, piercing the beast in places. The rannak now had wood protruding from the side of its head, around its ears. It howled again and spun fiercely, disoriented by the attack¡¯s direction. Darius barely jumped back in time, tumbling to his back.

    The rannak noted this opening and rose up on its hind legs briefly, intending to come down and crush the Amarant. Arrows appeared in its belly as soon as it had risen, slowing it a little and giving Darius enough time to roll away.

    ¡®Darius!¡¯ El¡¯enur yelled out.

    The Amarant rose, covered in dirt and shoulders bloody from scratches. He signalled to the archer. Thanks. I¡¯m fine.

    Displeased the attack had failed, the rannak charged again. At least it was drawn away from the direction of the campsite. Darius spared a glance toward it. Asphales and Valinos stood on guard, uncertain. He was sure they would have liked to help. I¡¯m sorry, this fight is not yours. As he stood up, Darius yelled. ¡®If anything goes wrong, take the horses and run. Make it to Taeladran.¡¯

    He did not wait to see their reaction. He dodged another head-charge from the rannak, and brought Blackfrost up in reply. He felt the blade slice at the creature¡¯s ear. The beast yelped. To its side, Catena managed to pierce its belly. Her spear came out reddened. Almost immediately, an arrow entered the wound. El¡¯enur was capitulating on the opening Catena had created.

    The rannak turned, finally taking note of the archer¡¯s location. It rushed off at blinding speed, heedless of its wounds.

    ¡®El¡¯enur!¡¯ Catena called. The archer had to abandon an arrow and dash to the side to avoid the rannak. He quickly made his way to where Darius was standing.

    ¡®Commander,¡¯ he said, panting, ¡®I¡¯m running out of arrows, and I don¡¯t think we¡¯ve done much to it.¡¯

    ¡®We¡¯ll need a more direct approach.¡¯

    ¡®It¡¯s kind of hard to get in its face with all that death in the way,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, gesturing to his jaw.

    ¡®Catena, I want you to try and trip the beast when it charges. Aim for the legs. El¡¯enur, you take point and lead it here. After that, get out of the way.¡¯

    They both nodded.

    ¡®I never know what you have in mind, commander, but I¡¯ll trust you.¡¯

    The beast turned. El¡¯enur unleashed the last of his arrows, nicking the creature¡¯s face. As planned, the rannak charged. As it kicked up rocks and dirt, Catena swept in, planted her feet, and thrust her spear toward the rannak¡¯s legs.

    Darius braced himself, hands tightening around Blackfrost.

    Lady Catena was knocked off balance and lost her spear, but the manoeuvre succeeded. The creature lost its footing and was now hurtling toward Darius. The Amarant screamed and swung. He felt the blade connect, but the rannak crashed into him. Even with its slowed momentum, Darius was lurched backwards and for a moment lost all orientation as he was knocked up. Then he met the unwelcome touch of the ground. Pain blazed in his chest. He felt for his sword nearby, but met something that felt like¡­ bone?

    He opened his eyes. He was holding on to a severed tusk. He smiled. The rannak lay crumpled just ahead of him.

    Then the smile turned to dread as the creature rose with a growl. An uneven stump hung where its left tusk had been. The enraged rannak let out an ear-splitting noise. The Amarant tried to crawl away, then felt a pang in his side. He looked down and noted blood.

    Someone was screaming. He could not make it out. Behind the creature, a scarlet-haired figure was running toward him.

    The creature tromped closer. Slow. As if it knew he was done.

    Then Darius felt it.

    The fire within. That flame that would not let him die. The rage that told him he could not go.

    Not here.

    Not until you take them.

    Not like this, you weakling.

    Darius roared to drown out all the voices. Those around him. Those within him. Drown them. Damn them.

    ¡®Now that is some wonderful stew,¡¯ a clear voice suddenly rung out. It cut through the night like a ray of light in winter.

    The stranger was walking toward him, bowl held to his mouth. He sipped again and then threw it away. ¡®That is very good stew,¡¯ he said. ¡®And that means something, coming from me. I have tasted cuisine older than this Empire, from farther lands than you can dream.¡¯

    The man¡¯s words were somehow soothing, laced with light and healing. The rannak¡¯s attention was drawn.

    ¡®And as for you, my ugly friend. You have done quite enough.¡¯

    The stranger pulled aside his shroud, revealing a blade strapped to his side. He drew it and it was as if the sun had risen.

    Oddly shaped, exotically forged, the sword was a thing of marvel. The stranger held it with confidence.

    The rannak let out another shriek and charged.

    It was the last sound it ever made.

    The stranger danced around the rannak¡¯s charge, movements smooth as a river. He whooped cheerfully and struck.

    Light exploded as blade connected with beast.

    The rannak fell in the dust, still and lifeless. The stranger sheathed his blade and night returned. Everything settled. The horses no longer made a peep. Calm washed over.

    He walked over to where Darius lay, speechless, unsure what he had witnessed. The stranger offered his hand.

    ¡®I know you told me to keep away. But I could not allow the world to lose such culinary talent.¡¯ Darius gripped his hand. ¡®And you make a decent commander also.¡¯ The stranger lifted him up.

    ¡®I don¡¯t¡­¡¯ Darius stammered. ¡®You¡¯re a¡­ Thank you.¡¯

    The man regarded the dead rannak and winced. ¡®The land and its creatures grow ever fouler with the coming of the Shadow. The beasts are bolder, always looking to make my strolls bothersome.¡¯

    The others had caught up, now that the spectacle was over. El¡¯enur stared on, wide-eyed. Lady Catena considered the man grimly. Asphales and Valinos rushed to the group. Asphales knelt by the injured Amarant¡¯s side. ¡®Darius, are you okay?¡¯

    Darius nodded. ¡®I will hang in there,¡¯ he grunted.

    ¡®You¡¯re no ordinary traveller,¡¯ Valinos said, accosting the stranger.

    ¡®Very perceptive of you, master Gloom. I¡ª¡¯

    He stopped himself as he looked over the company. They were all either injured or shaken from the encounter. He sighed.

    ¡®I figure I owe you an explanation. I am Eltanin of the Ten. Though I suppose men know me as Lord Elan of Taeladran. Which is to say, they do not know me at all.¡¯

    ¡®No mortal could strike like this,¡¯ Catena said as she scanned the fallen rannak.

    ¡®Oh, I assure you, my lady, I am very mortal. My existence is simply¡­ prolonged. Time teaches lessons even to the most unwilling eventually. And what is more, I am mortified that you would suggest such, because from what I sense, both you and master Jasper here will need to learn to do what I did.¡¯

    ¡®My name is Asphales,¡¯ he said, ¡®and how do you know so much? We¡¯re looking for you, but it sounds like you¡¯ve been expecting us.¡¯

    Lord Elan¡ªor Eltanin¡ªhushed the boy and brought a finger to his lips. ¡®Pleased to meet you a second time, Asphales. But we will not do this here. Rannakim are rarely alone. This one may have strayed, but others will come and they will not take kindly to what I have done to their unfortunate friend. We will speak at Taeladran. Come along if you favour survival.¡¯

    He sauntered toward the camp, drawing his cloak closer and laughing so heartily as if all the world was a jest.

    The others stared at each other and then followed the man. Darius limped, hand on his gut where the rannak¡¯s tusk had struck. Some of the pain had subsided and blood no longer gushed. How had Eltanin done it?

    ¡®I am sorry about the wound,¡¯ Eltanin called out without turning. ¡®Restoration was never my strong point. Your own body will do the rest from here.¡¯

    Back at the campsite, the company hastily packed up their belongings and threw the saddlebags onto their mounts. They cleared trace of their presence, scattering the fire-stones, before setting out again into the night.

    As they travelled, Darius could not help but think of what had happened in the moments before the rannak¡¯s final assault. He was about to be taken by the flame, consumed by rage he had not felt so intensely since¡­ well, it was best not to recall the Day of Ash and Snow. But Eltanin had intervened at the right time, and for that he was grateful. He glanced over to the Elder, who rode happily on El¡¯enur¡¯s horse. The archer was now seated with Darius in order to keep him steady.

    They passed through Splinter¡¯s Approach and reached the lowlands around Taeladran proper. Grass grew once more, and the thickets and bushes were richer here. Darius knew the company was close when they heard the sound of a river.

    As morning broke to the east, the city rose before them.

    Rightly was it called the City of Stone and Sapphire.

    Taeladran was nestled among cliffs unnaturally thrown up, like crashing waves of rock frozen mid-impact. Impractical, but also impregnable. The stone itself comprised the city¡¯s walls, and windows were bored into the formation where it served as watchtowers. The upper echelon of the rock face featured blue, gem-like protrusions, for which the city had garnered its title. A lone stone path led to a gate barely visible in the rock. The river here gushed loudly, its flow echoing off the stone crevasses.

    Yet despite the geological wonder in front of them, Darius noticed Asphales kept staring at Eltanin. Asphales was practically simmering, surely bursting with questions.

    Finally, the man seemed to have noticed. ¡®You know, boy, it is rude to notice a blemish on one¡¯s face and not speak out, for surely that is the reason you gaze at me incessantly.¡¯

    Asphales startled. ¡®I¡¯m sorry. No, you¡¯re just so different to¡­ the last one we met.¡¯

    ¡®Old Antares is something of an oddity. Centuries of wisdom and book-learning have left him¡­ well, I was going to say as attractive as a shrivelled kitchen rag, but I do not want to be disrespectful to the rag.¡¯

    ¡®He does not strike me as a warrior. Not like you.¡¯

    ¡®Then you have never seen Antares angry. Try¡ªdoes he still carry that staff of his?¡¯

    ¡®Yes.¡¯

    ¡®Try taking it next time you see him and hide it.¡¯

    Asphales chuckled. Darius was confused by the conversation.

    ¡®But surely you remember your father,¡¯ Eltanin said. ¡®He was more pleasant to behold. You have so much of your father in you. I picked you out before you said a word.¡¯

    Asphales glanced down darkly as his horse trotted. ¡®No, I do not remember much of him.¡¯

    ¡®Curious. Well, here we are,¡¯ he said as they pulled into the shadow of the city. The magnitude of the stone obscured the daylight beaming through distant mountains.

    Eltanin cantered up to the city gate and held up a hand for the others to stop beside him.

    ¡®Who approaches?¡¯ someone called from behind the gate.

    ¡®Is that you, Deresh? Look, I know you want to go for your morning eggs and bacon but do the master of the city a favour and open the gate, would you?¡¯

    After a moment, the gates creaked open. A solitary guard walked out, but Darius was sure others were watching from peepholes in the rock walls.

    The guard approached in a stately manner. His uniform was mostly blue, with emblems of deep gold emblazoned like an early sunset. He looked comfortable in the collared silk.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry, Deresh is not on duty,¡¯ he said, his voice melodious. He looked over the group with indigo eyes and ran a hand through his russet hair. ¡®I am the new Captain of the Winged Guard. Welcome to Taeladran, masters. My name is Nathariel.¡¯

 Chapter Eighteen - This Darkened Night

    The night was ripe for an escape. It was the kind of night when silence seemed deeper, engulfing every breath. Midnight strained her ears in the dark, but her rushing blood was a hurricane. After the too-many moments it took to quieten her heart, she listened.

    A drip is all that sounded in the cave.

    ***

    ¡®That¡¯s the way, hold it steady,¡¯ Hops said.

    Midnight struggled to keep her bow from wavering. Her hands trembled as she pulled the drawstring. An arrow was not even nocked, as she was still practicing basic handling.

    ¡®Use your shoulders, and breathe.¡¯

    She inhaled and pulled. The tension proved too much. She lost grip on the string and the fabric slapped against her skin. The bow clattered to the ground as Midnight clutched her burning wrist.

    Hops rushed over. ¡®Let me see it,¡¯ he said. He inspected the wound. He set a heavy rucksack on the ground and procured a length of cloth. As he did, Midnight spotted a strange powder in the bag.

    The old man closed the pack and tightened the leather strip around her right forearm. ¡®You¡¯ll need this.¡¯

    Midnight rubbed at the stinging spot, but nodded and picked up her bow.

    ***

    Midnight crept through endless tunnels. Hollows she had spent uncountable time memorising. This was it. She held onto her makeshift bow like a compass. It was her solution. The result of her sweat and blood and time and tears. Midnight wished she could express her gratitude to Hops for releasing it, allowing her to let it sing.

    She made her way relatively freely through the caverns. Fewer Heartless around. Less movement. Slaves retired to their quarters. That¡¯s how she knew the day was over, though she could not see the sun. Oh, how long had it been since she¡¯d tasted its warmth?

    But in this heartbeat, she welcomed the quiet shadows in this darkened night. They shielded her. She took this silence and this darkness and made them her own.

    A dream of light pushed her onwards.

    ***

    ¡®Now, you¡¯ll need to learn how to meet a mark,¡¯ Hops said.

    Midnight held her three arrows. She thought of Th¨¬r and his story and his smile. It was all she could muster. She held on to the hope that they would not need be used. But if it came to it, Midnight could not hesitate.

    ¡®Looks like you¡¯ve only got three arrowheads. A bit of a shame, but it¡¯ll have to do. At least we have a few spare shafts to practice with.¡¯

    Hops paced around her chamber, setting up several rough, wooden targets on the walls. The solitary torch nestled in the room cast long silhouettes which hugged the angular shapes around her.

    ¡®Visibility will not be great. Very few places here afford more than a few torches. And you want to avoid those areas anyway if you want to remain unseen. But, this means you¡¯ll have to learn to shoot in low light.¡¯

    The old man hopped over to her and guided her arms through the process of nocking an arrow.

    ¡®Focus on the point,¡¯ he said, as he adjusted her grip. ¡®And keep the stock straight and steady.¡¯

    Midnight shifted her position.

    ¡®Line up your arrowhead and the target, then breathe and pull.¡¯

    She eyed the wooden piece on the wall and drew the arrow back. It felt like she pulled into familiar, long-forgotten motions.

    She freed the arrow. It clinked sharply against the stone wall, a few inches from her target. The wall did not give way.

    Midnight frowned.

    She tried again.

    The arrow loosed and planted itself in the wood with a thwack.

    Midnight allowed herself a crescent smile. She would make the whole mountain part before her.

    ***

    Midnight sidled along a wall, keeping low. Through openings above her she could see into the low-lit work area of the Machines. Soft, bright shafts leaked into the cavern from somewhere high up¡ªwhat might have been strained moonlight.

    Midnight told herself that before the night was over, she would touch them. She would sate the longing of her skin for air and light.

    The machines themselves lay dormant, unattended. There was no debris left uncleared, nothing to mark the spot where her heart had broken. Only cold, unfeeling giants gazing out over unyielding rock.

    She knew she had to descend to the area eventually. The intriguing service tunnel she suspected of being the exit lay that way. She braced herself and kept going.

    Suddenly, scraping and scratching tore the eerie silence. A sound like the dragging of metal on rock. Midnight had heard it several times but had never known what caused it. She did not wish to find out now.

    It drew closer. She could feel it through the walls.

    Midnight rose and hopped swiftly toward the end of the tunnel, away from the noise.

    Her foot met stone, and she lunged forward. Midnight tripped and felt nothing beneath her but empty air.

    A fall in the dark disoriented her.

    ***

    ¡®One of the perks of being so old here,¡¯ Hops said with a wink, ¡®is that you get to know your way around the place.¡¯

    Midnight and Hops stepped lightly and slowly through tunnels and passes overlooking the main expanse of the mountain¡¯s heart. Hidden, they moved above the watching flames, in discord and defiance to the droning of the workers and the Heartless.

    ¡®You get to learn each twist and turn. How to get between places unseen.¡¯ He turned to her and gripped her shoulders. ¡®You¡¯ve done well so far. But you¡¯ll need to learn to become the shadows. Beat as one with the mountain.¡¯

    Midnight went to step forward, but Hops grabbed her arm and pulled her back. He pointed beneath her feet, where the rock had given way into a dark opening.

    ¡®The tunnels are treacherous. If it comes to it, you¡¯ll need to improvise. If something goes wrong¡­¡¯

    ***

    Midnight felt blood.

    Not heeding the wound for now, she instinctively scampered for a dark corner as the scraping above her faded. Midnight let out a breath. She looked up. She had fallen several feet but the lurching sensation had terrified her more than the fall.

    Midnight quickly checked her provisions. The bow had not broken, thankfully. Her arrows were unscathed. When she could no longer ignore the burning in her leg, she touched at the wound. She winced as she noticed her thigh was bleeding.

    Midnight pounded the ground and silently cursed her negligence. She reached for her provision pack¡ªHops¡¯ gift¡ªwhen panic gripped her. The pack was missing.

    She squinted, poring over the area where she had landed, trying to spot the bag. She could see only blackness.

    Then she heard soft chatter and footsteps.

    A flame flickered nearby.

    ***

    ¡®You¡¯re nearly ready, girl,¡¯ the old man said as he watched her leap from stone to stone, unleashing arrows. Each one met its mark.

    Midnight jumped down, satisfied. For once, she was taken by a welcome exhaustion, an aching that assured her she achieved something.

    ¡®I have taught you all I can,¡¯ Hops said as Midnight settled. ¡®From here, you¡¯ll be carried by strength of will. But, I do have one final gift.¡¯ He stepped forward and held out a worn leather pack. Midnight accepted it as if it were a crown of gold. Hops had already done so much for her.

    ¡®It¡¯s not much. But I¡¯ve placed a waterskin, a few rations, and spare cloth and shafts inside. You¡¯ll need it if you are to think of the journey ahead.¡¯

    Midnight inspected the components and then closed the pack tightly.

    ¡®You will need to give thought to where you are going once you leave this mountain. I don¡¯t know where you came from. But I pray you will find your way home. And I pray you find your name.¡¯

    Midnight embraced the old man.

    ¡®Oh, please, you will topple me. Remember my leg,¡¯ he said with a chuckle. Midnight drew back.

    ¡®Look,¡¯ he said sternly. ¡®Even this first step is dangerous. Know that there are places in this mountain I have not seen. I can only guide you so far. I fear you will have to push through dark depths before you see the light at the end.¡¯

    ***

    The Heartless patrol was near. At least two of them, judging by their voices. Midnight crouched and shrunk farther in. The wound in her leg complained.

    Fortunately, the guards had split at an intersection. Only one Heartless was headed past her. From her recess in the wall, Midnight could see the tunnel grow brighter. She spotted Hops¡¯ pack on the ground. It was in the guard¡¯s path.

    She stalked the Heartless as he approached, matching her footsteps to his casual gait. He began whistling. The tune echoed in the cave, unfairly free of bitterness.

    Midnight prepared the bow.

    The song stopped when the guard kicked the bag. He looked down.

    Midnight slowly nocked an arrow. She pulled the drawstring. The air tensed around her fingers.

    The Heartless picked up the discarded package, inspecting it by torchlight.

    Then Midnight rose out of shadow, like a predator out of still waters. She did not make a sound. She did not disturb the silence with her breath.

    The Heartless turned, as if by instinct. His frightened eyes did not see a slave. They did not meet weakness. They did not meet mercy.

    The arrow twanged. A heartbeat later it lodged itself in the guard¡¯s throat. He fell down gurgling, still holding on to torch and pack.

    One.

    Midnight let out a whimper as her muscles relaxed. But she could not dwell on what she had done. She moved over to the guard and dragged his stiff and lifeless body toward the wall. Stashing it near the alcove she had taken cover in, she took back Hops¡¯ bag.

    Then she collapsed by the stone, feeling cold. The cut in her leg needed tending. She rummaged through the pack and brought out a strip of cloth. Perhaps she had not felt it during the tension, but her thigh seemed to bleed more profusely.

    She could not stop here. Midnight knew that.

    Suddenly, as if dredged up from some hidden recess of her mind, she saw what to do. A makeshift bandage would not be enough.

    Midnight picked up an arrow, and snatched the torch from the fallen guard¡¯s hand.

    She held the arrowhead to the flame.

    As the iron heated, she reached into the pack and took out a spare wooden shaft. She bit into it as she prepared her mind and her body. She peeled back the bloodied fold of her tunic.

    Then touched the metal to her flesh.

    This was improvising.

    Agonising moments later, still blinking back tears and choking out a cry, Midnight tied her closed wound with the cloth. She rose, breathing heavily but determined to press on.

    Taking a few cautious steps out, Midnight examined her surroundings. This tunnel was not familiar. She braved out farther, hugging the wall, darting between dark patches.

    As she ventured further into an unknown area, a stench suddenly filled the air. The wall she had been touching as a guide gave way to a low balustrade carved out of the rock. Beyond it, a lower area stretched out into the darkness. Faintly, she could make out large, slumbering shapes. Huge, fur-covered beasts were splayed throughout the enclosure.

    Midnight shivered, repelled more by the purpose of these creatures than their odour. This was how the Heartless planned to give life and motion to the machines.

    More footsteps ahead spurred Midnight¡¯s mind to action. Their tapping ticked like a clock. She had to move. She thought quickly and held her breath.

    A drop to the level below was the only way forward.

    ***

    Midnight and Hops stood anxiously together as the work day was winding down. Slaves returned to their quarters under the guarded eyes of Heartless. Midnight began pacing her chamber restlessly. Hops spied from the entrance.

    A full watch later, Midnight had traced the same pattern a hundred times. ¡®It¡¯s time,¡¯ Hops said suddenly, motioning to her. ¡®Come.¡¯

    She sprung to the door, weapons and supplies ready.

    ¡®There is no turning now,¡¯ the old man said, taking her hand and walking out into the tunnels. ¡®Tonight¡­ you go.¡¯

    Midnight froze in her tracks.

    Hops turned to her. His eyes were warm and grey. Caring, but spent. Midnight only now truly noticed how old he was. Broken by a life¡ªif it could be called that¡ªof pain.

    ¡®You must go, Midnight,¡¯ he wheezed. ¡®Do not worry about me. I¡¯ve lived my life. I am old. If I die knowing I helped you leave this place¡­ so much the better.¡¯

    She clutched his arm.

    Why must her heart keep breaking?

    ¡®No, Midnight. I will do what I can, distracting the guards. The area outside of the Machines is heavily watched.¡¯

    She stood unmoving, unwilling to go on.

    Why must it come to this?

    ¡®Please,¡¯ he said, more forcefully than she had ever heard him speak. ¡®Go. I will only slow you down. Please, let me have this.¡¯

    First Th¨¬r, the only one who smiled. Now Hops, the only one who cared.

    Midnight tore herself away from the old man and dashed down the dark tunnel alone.

    Why was this the price she had to pay?

    ***

    Midnight snuck through a den of beasts. Their true size was surely obscured by their slumbering forms. But even so, the mounds of fur were far taller than her. Tusks longer than she had seen on any desert creatures bobbed up and down as the beasts slept. They were deadly weapons themselves.

    She dared not breathe as she made her way along the dirty stone, waiting for the wandering beacons to disappear from sight. Above her, three guards passed on the walkway she had stood on. She hoped they would not find the body she had left behind.

    Midnight pressed on. The air was filled with the smell of beast and food and waste. A single idea drove her down here and pushed her onward. She reasoned she was near to the Machines, perhaps even adjacent to it. The beasts needed ease of access to the contraptions they were to pull, so this enclosure should lead to the main cavern.

    In spite of the distracting smell, Midnight marvelled how sharp her mind was. She did not know whether this awakening was brought on by what she had done or by the blooming dream of escape. She wondered how she had endured years in the mountain¡¯s clutches.

    The walls became narrower as Midnight reached the den¡¯s end. As she feared, a massive gate blocked access to the rest of the complex. This one, built for beasts, would not budge. But nearby, she spotted a smaller gate, perhaps intended for the caretakers who would enter to feed the creatures.

    On the other side, a guard stood watch.

    Midnight jumped back behind the body of an animal, wary not to disturb its sleep. Braving another glance, she noticed the guard was facing away. But the path between her spot and the gate was free of cover and more brightly lit. She could not risk approaching him.

    Midnight drew a second arrow.

    She took in the guard¡¯s surroundings more carefully. She could see no one else keeping watch nearby.

    She leant out, drawing the arrow tight.

    The guard stood at least forty paces away. But nothing, no gate nor guard, could bar her way.

    Midnight locked her eyes on target, and released.

    The arrow flew, a silent bringer of death pouncing on the unaware. The guard crumpled to the floor, an arrow piercing his neck. He thrashed briefly and then gave out.

    Two.

    Midnight hurried through the exposed portion of the den to the exit. Slowly, she unlatched the gate. The metal bars let out the slightest creak before she slipped through.

    On the other side, Midnight secreted the Heartless corpse behind a pillar, away from the watchful flame of torches. She followed the walkway set out beside a large passage decked with a makeshift wall of wooden logs and spikes.

    Midnight¡¯s intuition had proven right. Ahead, the cavern opened up into cold, colossal emptiness. A dozen different walkways led out into darkness. Pinpricks of light decorated the distant reaches of the cavern where the Machines themselves were housed.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Then Midnight spotted the guards and her breath was cut short. A sizeable troop of Heartless paced sporadically. Others lazed about, enjoyed chatter or a drink. Every passage was covered. Every exit.

    She retreated behind an exposed boulder. Clutching her weapon to her breast, Midnight stifled a groan. She could go no farther. Not on her own.

    She rested her head against the stone and sighed. Her eyes took in the immensity of the complex from which she had emerged. Looking up, she saw countless openings and holes¡ªsome of which functioned as windows, others as entryways to other levels.

    And then she spotted movement somewhere far above her. By an opening, a figure took up position. It was not a Heartless. A torch flicked to life.

    ¡®Damn you!¡¯ he cried out. ¡®Damn you all!¡¯

    It was Hops.

    At his cry, the guards drew their attention upwards.

    And then it began to rain fire.

    Midnight watched from behind cover as the old man threw down firebombs. She caught glimpses of bundled cloths descending, each with a flaming wick. They exploded on contact with the stone.

    Men cried out. Some from pain, others from anger. Loud booms shook the mountain¡¯s foundation. Chunks of rock flew up wildly. Bridges collapsed and passageways crumbled into dark depths. Midnight heard the fading screams of falling men.

    She looked on as more guards poured out of openings like roused ants. They marched into the lowest tunnel, keeping to cover as more fire drizzled down.

    ¡®Do you taste it?¡¯ Hops yelled out from his vantage point. ¡®Do you feel the fear? Damn you!¡¯

    Midnight¡¯s ears were ringing when the firestorm ended. The platoon of Heartless took their cue and rushed out, splitting up into groups and taking various passages upward. Their footfalls receded as they entered the stone complex. They would surely find the old man, who was now defenceless. And then?

    She did not want to think about it. And when she peeked over the boulder, Midnight saw nothing but burning debris and crumbled rock. The Machines were cast in eerie light as the remnants of flame flickered and died.

    But the way was clear.

    Midnight did not waste a breath. She sprinted out, heading for a bridge which had been left intact. She rushed through chaos and craters, hoping that the smoke would keep any Heartless left nearby blind.

    She ran across, over an abyss, trying to run from tears she could not hold back.

    On the other side, Midnight spotted the tunnel she had noticed once when working here. It felt like countless days had passed since then. But here she stood, the high-ceilinged passage unfolding before her. She ran.

    Then a lone guard stepped out from a side-chamber. Midnight dashed away in time to take cover in a shadowed cleft.

    She breathed heavily as the steps drew closer. She grasped her final arrow. Her final hope.

    Composing herself, she set arrow to string. Counting down another moment, she sidestepped out. The Heartless gazed at the point aimed at him and froze.

    Midnight let go.

    But the arrow never sailed.

    In that instant, the bowstring tore and the stock snapped. The shredding of the weapon rang louder in Midnight¡¯s mind than any firebomb.

    Colour returned to the guard¡¯s face as the pieces fell around her. Midnight¡¯s hands stung. Her shoulders ached. She numbly caught the arrowhead, having come loose of its shaft.

    The Heartless laughed. Shrill and proud.

    He took a step toward her. ¡®This is what you get, you¡ª¡¯

    Midnight thrust the arrowhead into his neck. She first took his voice for having taken hers.

    She struck again. She poured out all her pain and struck with the weight of all her suffering.

    Again. For Th¨¬r.

    Again. For Hops.

    Again. For freedom.

    The guard dropped in a shower of red.

    Three.

    The bloodied arrowhead fell with a clatter. Midnight stared at her scarlet hands.

    Slowly, shaking, she moved.

    She was so close.

    So close to the singing sun and the glinting lake.

    A step away.

    ***

    ¡®What is your name?¡¯

    Silence.

    ¡®What are you called?¡¯

    Nothing.

    ¡®Well, we can¡¯t have that! You¡¯re as pretty as the midnight moon!¡¯

    Midnight.

    ¡®That¡¯s a good name, don¡¯t you think, Midnight?¡¯

    ***

    Midnight dragged herself onward. Drained. Dreaming.

    She saw herself bathing in light. She imagined herself drinking from clear rivers. She thought of herself dancing on warm sands.

    She dreamt of her name being spoken once more, clear as moonlight.

    But all she heard was a screech, like scraping glass. Like the dragging of metal on rock.

    Midnight looked up, bleary.

    A shadow darkened her path.

    And all her dreams shattered to pieces, scattered in the unforgiving dark.

    The ominous figure looked on wordlessly.

    Midnight stumbled back, landing next to the fallen guard. As her hand felt around helplessly, she happened on the dead man¡¯s sword. She gripped it.

    Midnight sprang suddenly, fuelled by madness and memory. She rushed at the figure. The onlooker, unperturbed, swung his terrible blade. Effortlessly, he knocked the sword out of her hands. Then he spun, closing the distance and brought the hilt of his scythe to her face.

    Midnight fell.

    A silent scream was all she could conjure, a sound that would not leave her throat.

    ***

    My heart to yours. We¡¯ll stay together and fly free.

    ***

    Midnight was nowhere. Enclosed by darkness. She could not see, could not move.

    Footsteps punctured the silence.

    ¡®The boy.¡¯ A voice spoke, a sound like night itself.

    Another step.

    ¡®The old man.¡¯

    The figure halted. A light sparked to life. Midnight squinted, barely making out a dark blue cloak. The light rose to the figure¡¯s face. Vicious red eyes glared at her.

    ¡®You don¡¯t think I noticed how they clung to you?¡¯ The voice came from behind a leather half-mask.

    With his other hand, the figure placed his weapon on the ground. The scythe clacked heavily. Midnight saw it properly now.  It was a tool she had once known for harvest, now fashioned for death. The snath was of black steel, with a leather grip around its midsection. The angular blade caught the light ferociously, highlighting its engravings and its gleaming edge.

    ¡®I am Remeriel, if you care for names. Would you share yours?¡¯

    Midnight stiffened. Remeriel chuckled.

    ¡®Maybe you think Shurun¡¯el has been the one keeping watch on you. After all, he¡¯s had his way with you. But he doesn¡¯t see that well these days, as you might expect.¡¯ Remeriel let out more soft laughter, pleased with his own dark humour. ¡®No. I am the one who watches.¡¯

    The man brought his face closer to her. Midnight jumped. ¡®And you are a danger. For where one bright soul lingers, there hope festers.¡¯ His words were spiteful and poisonous.

    Remeriel shifted. He brought his weapon up, close to her lip. Midnight could feel its cold edge. Then he applied pressure. A ribbon of blood weaved its path down her chin.

    ¡®Here you will remain,¡¯ Remeriel said. ¡®Here you will spend your days in darkness and in dread.¡¯

    The weapon pulled away as Midnight bled. She almost welcomed the warm relief.

    Remeriel changed stance again. The scythe-blade pointed down. The man then threw his torch to the side. The flame clattered next to a hunched figure, bound and gagged.

    Hops.

    ¡®Here you will dwell. In doubt and despair.¡¯

    The weapon scraped the earth. Haunting. Thirsting. Its music was an elegy.

    ¡®Until your death.¡¯

    Midnight thrashed against her bonds. The old man had no chance to speak or to cry out. The weapon slashed, cutting silence and flesh, spilling blood.

    The tapestry in her mind came loose at last. Every thread ripped. All she heard was shattering, like the breaking of pottery. Over and over. The pointless prod of a needle. Colours fell apart. Here there was only night. Dawn did not exist.

    There was nothing Midnight could do to save him. Or anyone.

    She could not say a word.

    More than anything, she wanted a chance. She wanted a way.

    And yet her hope was now buried in the black. Midnight shivered. The utter dreamless dark swept in like an avalanche,

    She hoped this was a nightmare. She hoped this was untrue.

    But she was awake.

    * * *

    The rose gardens of Sheneh-Adrani glistered after rain. Drenched, the flowers sparkled with the sheen of countless settled shards of glass. A white sun broke through the overhanging grey, burning away fog and dying drizzle.

    And in this crystal light, the assassin stepped in blood.

    A body lay facedown beside the mass of colour, trailing its own brilliant scarlet line. As if the man had tried to get away from something before his life gave out.

    Umariel rushed over, instincts suddenly alert, and inspected the body. It was fresh, fallen less than a watch ago, and the man¡¯s attired mark him as one of their own. Slashes in the clothing indicated repeated blade wounds, but they were strangely arrayed. The man seemed cut at random, with no vital spots stricken.

    And overpowering the crisp scent of recent rain, Umariel could smell burning.

    Umariel jumped and drew out his daggers. His eyes flashed over the area, but he spotted nothing. His mind ran a dozen scenarios which could have led to this outcome. But what invader would be capable of this? The islands of Sheneh-Adrani were hidden, an undiscovered gem of the sea to the wider world.

    Unless¡­

    Umariel dashed, following the fallen man¡¯s trail of blood. Rounding the hedges and beds of roses, he emerged on the beach. Three other bodies lay about in the sand, one still writhing.

    But he did not care for them, for in their midst, Riri cowered.

    Shaken.

    Umariel sheathed his weapons and ran toward the scene. The air smelled of smoke. He started sweating. As if he had stepped into a pocket of drought untouched by the storm.

    ¡®Riri!¡¯ he yelled. The girl did not look up. The men around her lay prone, singed and cut. She had not even drawn her blade. She sat there, arms wrapped around her knees, face drawn into her hood.

    ¡®Riri,¡¯ he called again, disregarding the death around him. She lifted her head and looked at him. Her black and red hood fell back, and her face shone like the sun piercing through the weight of a grey day. In her eyes, Umariel beheld such broken beauty that he was taken aback.

    Air and wind returned, and Umariel could breathe again. Riri¡¯s hair came loose once more, tussled by the breeze. He rushed in and embraced her. She buried her face in his chest, fitting snugly as a blade in its sheath. Umariel feared being consumed himself, but he held on.

    ¡®Riri, it¡¯s me,¡¯ he whispered. ¡®I¡¯m here. I¡¯m here.¡¯ She started sobbing.

    He remembered a day not long ago, holding a scared, shaken girl while everything around her fell to flame and steel. And here she was now, a woman. Still broken, still haunted.

    It¡¯s lonely when there¡¯s no one left to fight, isn¡¯t it?

    ¡®Umar,¡¯ she whimpered, ¡®I¡­ I killed¡­¡¯

    He held on tighter as she broke into heavier sobs and unintelligible murmurs. Umariel let her sink into his arms, whispering her name over and over.

    You just want it to be over, don¡¯t you?

    Just then, waves broke loudly out at sea. Umariel glanced over and saw a ship treading rough water. The Moonbreaker¡¯s weathered prow cut triumphantly through the surf as it prepared to dock. A sole figure on board heaved at the wheel, sails snapping and rigging groaning around him. The vessel threw up plumes as it fought the tide and made for land. The captain stood in defiant command against wind and waves.

    Despreaux Monar¨¦ the Seastrider, Lord of Oceans, had returned.

    As the ship made port, Umariel helped Fr¨¬ri?l to stand. She rose slowly. He held her shaking hand and they both watched their master¡¯s vessel with anticipation. The Moonbreaker¡¯s crusted hull made it look like a relic from a bygone age. The wood was old, carrying build-up of coral and sea debris. Ragged sailcloth hung from the ship¡¯s three masts, telling of dangerous travels at sea. The tenacious vessel was worn, as if it sailed in perpetual tempest. But Umariel knew the horrid strength of this ship.

    The gangplank came down with a creak. Heavy boots tromped against the wood.

    Even from a distance, Umariel could sense a shift in the air. The captain manifested the same dark majesty as his vessel. The energy of the sea itself was wreathed around him somehow.

    The man¡¯s cloak cracked like a whip in the wind. He adjusted his hat with a gloved hand, his other hoisting a large halberd with a golden gauntlet.

    Lord Despreaux approached. His clothing was loose, blowing about like waves on the surface of a darkened sea. But his fiery gaze was steady, burning eyes piercing all he looked at. A craggy beard hung rigidly and reached down to his exposed chest. Umariel had always found his master¡¯s visage unnerving, and could never look at him long.

    He stopped a few feet away from them, dirty boots crunching in the sand.

    ¡®My lord,¡¯ Umariel said. He released Fr¨¬ri?l¡¯s hand and bowed. She wiped her eyes and followed suit.

    The captain looked around, tapping gauntleted fingers on the steel frame of his weapon. He eyed the dead men blankly. He noted the splinters of glass burned into the sand. He understood.

    Then his eyes fell to the one still moving, gasping and grasping for life. ¡®Finish it,¡¯ he said to Umar.

    The assassin fell into step. He knelt. Drawing a dagger, he pressed the slender blade against the man¡¯s throat. The victim squirmed and sputtered, but Umar held. Then came the sweet and hollow silence. He stood.

    ¡®This is the strength you will need,¡¯ the captain said. ¡®A heartless will to do what you must.¡¯ He pointed to the bodies. ¡®They did not know their place. I am proud you know yours.¡¯

    Umariel found his lord¡¯s voice weightier than the kill. It resonated like deep water, coming from within him, filling his lungs.

    The captain turned to go.

    ¡®Why did you go out there?¡¯ Riri suddenly asked.

    ¡®Riri,¡¯ Umar hissed under his breath.

    ¡®¡­my lord,¡¯ she added.

    ¡®To find guidance,¡¯ the captain said simply.

    ¡®And did you?¡¯

    A smirk appeared on Despreaux¡¯s face, like a crack in a cliff weathered by water. ¡®I saw the end of an era, and the beginning of a new one. Before this is all over, you shall have a part to play.¡¯

    Riri walked forward, brushing past Umariel¡¯s shoulder and clasping his hand. ¡®Not without him.¡¯

    ¡®I see fire and shadow have mingled at last,¡¯ Despreaux said.

    Umariel gasped, ashamed.

    The captain looked to him, seeming¡­ pleased? ¡®Do not think I was unaware. Long have you burned for her with desire. And long have you loomed in her thoughts. This is good. You will be all the stronger for it.¡¯

    Fr¨¬ri?l stomped her feet. ¡®If it makes you so happy, then why are you so gloomy? Something is bothering you, captain.¡¯

    ¡®Do not take the end of an era lightly, my dear. I knew it would come to this, and you would depart. You fear I care not for you. You fear I have no regard for the future. But you are my fire¡¯¡ªthen he nodded to Umariel¡ª¡®and my shadow. I¡¯m a man of my word. You will have enemies to fight. Then you will be free of my services. Free to pursue what life you want in Anardes. Chase your own song in the new world with Umariel by your side.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you, my lord,¡¯ Umariel said, bowing.

    Riri turned to him, a fragment of a smile playing about her face. She beamed even as she struggled with the terror of who she was. ¡®Do you hear that, Umar?¡¯ She tugged on his arm playfully.

    ¡®Now come,¡¯ said Despreaux. ¡®You are to set out shortly. The Dragon¡¯s Eye calls, where the next step in the breaking of the song is to be put in place.¡¯

    The captain started toward the island¡¯s heart, ignoring the mess on the beachfront. Umariel followed, walking with Riri by his side and the flicker of something he had never felt before beating in his chest.

    Hope.

    * * *

    Sanah¡¯?l hated long rides over water. There had been nothing interesting to look at since leaving Taeladran. And here she was, stranded on a rickety chunk of wood, piloted by a seedy, unsavoury fellow, heading toward the most undesirable location in the Lower Realm.

    She kept her jacket open¡ªdespite the wind¡ªso the boat driver could see her sword. Sanah¡¯?l hoped the weapon, coupled with her fiercest scowl, would prevent any unwholesome ideas taking root in the sailor¡¯s head. The hunched, balding man rowed on through endless grey water, nothing but spit coming out of his mouth.

    At least the silence was enjoyable. She had the time and space to think. Adrift, Sanah¡¯?l sank into a sea of remembrance.

    ***

    Sanah took her first step in the sky. She had broken through clouds moments before and reached an impossible land. Far above her lowly station, far beyond her loneliness, far from the clutches of poverty and grime. The life she and her brother knew seemed no more.

    Sanah had accepted the hand of a stranger, years ago, on the promise of something better. And here she realised her benefactor had fulfilled their word. Her brother had opted for a different path, under the care of powerful folk in the mountain. She did not know much else, only that he was content with his access to pleasures heretofore unknown and unattainable.

    But here, standing above the heights of everything she imagined and faced with a land awash in sunlight, Sanah knew she made the right choice.

    ¡®Are you just going to sit there and gape?¡¯ her guide asked, ¡®As much as I understand your admiration of my skills, we need to be moving.¡¯

    Her guide was an attractive young man who had driven her here in a baffling contraption. She could not remember much of the journey, only that they somehow rode the winds themselves. Sanah had had her eyes closed for most of it, sickened by a feeling of weightlessness and a realisation of their altitude.

    The guide signalled with his hand and smiled. He had lively, violet eyes from another world. And he smiled far too often. She had never seen such frivolity and happiness. She followed him, stepping on solid stone, barely able to tell the ground beneath her feet was suspended thousands of feet in the air.

    Everything here was just as below, only¡­ clearer. The air was fresher, the day was brighter, and the mountains more filled with colour. Even the white city that rose ahead appeared cleaner, the towers of its smooth, stone castle scraping at the sky. Proud and secure at the top of the world.

    ¡®Welcome to Aseladran,¡¯ the man said, striding confidently. ¡®It may take mere moments to grow accustomed to this land¡¯s beauty, but please, I know it will take a lifetime for yours truly to cease dazzling you.¡¯

    ¡®What?¡¯ she said, barely focusing on his words and taking in her surroundings.

    The man turned. ¡®I, of course, am speaking of the main attraction,¡¯ he said, arms out.

    ¡®What is your name?¡¯ she asked, unimpressed.

    ¡®Nathariel, but you can call me¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Nathariel, are you always this ridiculous?¡¯

    ¡®No. Only on days when the sky is blue.¡¯

    Sanah glared at him.

    ¡®Alright, let me at least offer to take your belongings and show you to your new quarters.¡¯

    He went to reach for her satchel. She drew back and tightened her grip on it. All she owned in this world.

    ¡®So that¡¯s a ¡°no¡± to chivalry, then.¡¯

    ¡®Pardon me for not being entirely taken with someone who doesn¡¯t seem to approach anything seriously.¡¯

    Nathariel¡¯s face darkened. ¡®You¡¯re not¡­ very trusting, are you¡­ ah?¡¯ The man made a vague gesture.

    ¡®Sanah,¡¯ she said finally. ¡®My name is Sanah.¡¯ She sighed and relaxed. ¡®I¡¯m sorry, old habits.¡¯ She held out her belongings.

    ¡®Good,¡¯ Nathariel said. He smiled and grabbed hold of her satchel. ¡®Come along. Lady Isila is eager to meet you. And I¡¯m sure you¡¯re going to love your lodgings.¡¯

    ***

    Days passed more pleasantly in Aseladran. Sanah could truly sleep here in luxury and peace. Gone were nights spent only half-asleep in tatters and on edge. Sanah woke softly in her new home draped in blankets and light. Gone were mornings where she started awake in rags, driven by danger and shadow. Even old dreams had trouble haunting Sanah here, so distant from where she had once been. It was perfect.

    Almost. There was but one hitch.

    Nothing spoiled a morning more than Rubi?l¡¯s pretty face.

    On this particular morning, Sanah was exploring the hallways of Aseladran¡¯s castle. She was fascinated by the culture of a people separated from the mainland. Art and architecture had developed differently over hundreds of years spent apart, though tinged with whispers of the history once shared.

    Sanah was inspecting a depiction of a warrior astride a winged creature whose shadow split into three. The figure seemed to envelop the canvas in wreathing darkness.

    ¡®You can¡¯t take that,¡¯ Rubi?l called out in her annoyingly melodious tone.

    Sanah startled and turned. Rubi?l watched her calmly, arms folded. Her flawless gaze made Sanah feel small, as if the woman before her could see her every imperfection.

    ¡®I¡¯m not sure what you¡¯re implying, Rubi,¡¯ Sanah said, feigning confidence.

    ¡®Why are you even here, beggar?¡¯

    ¡®I was just looking¡ª¡¯

    ¡®No. Why are you here at all?¡¯ Rubi?l sharpened her words.

    In her pettier moments, Sanah wished she had some leverage against Rubi?l, a knife to get under the woman¡¯s skin. But she could do nothing against her cuts.

    ¡®The other Lords only take on two. So why were you thrown in?¡¯

    Sanah steeled herself. ¡®I am just as much a member of the Order as you and Nathariel.¡¯

    ¡®That is not true,¡¯ she said coolly, as if deflecting her attempt at a blow. ¡®Lady Isila¡¯s pity will not take you far. You are nameless. Not even bestowed a weapon.¡¯

    Sanah clenched her fists. Rubi?l sensed it. Her hand lowered ever slightly to the pommel of her sabre. Sanah stepped away from the painting and faced down the woman, drawing on some hidden strength. She had had enough being looked down upon in her poverty.

    ¡®Look, girls, I made food!¡¯ Nathariel burst out, appearing from behind a pillar. He was holding a cake and smiling. Sanah did not know whether to laugh or to strike him.

    ¡®What are you doing, you fool?¡¯ Rubi?l asked.

    ¡®I believe a morsel is the best reliever of tension,¡¯ he said as he broke off a piece and stuffed it into his mouth.

    The two women simply looked on blankly.

    ¡®Besides,¡¯ he began, licking his fingers, ¡®what does it matter how many apprentices each Lord employs? Despreaux hasn¡¯t chosen a second yet. But even so, Sanah doesn¡¯t belong there. She couldn¡¯t stomach living out at sea.¡¯

    ¡®Right now, I can¡¯t stomach your cooking, Nathariel,¡¯ Sanah said and stomped off down the hallway. Rubi?l walked away in the opposite direction, her heels clacking loudly on the marble.

    Sanah turned a corner, stewing, and nearly ran into Lady Isila. The Lady did not break composure as Sanah bowed hurriedly.

    ¡®Walk with me.¡¯

    ***

    Lady Isila held out two items. A short sword, almost bronze in colour, with relatively unadorned components. The blade curved out slightly at the end symmetrically before closing into a pointed tip. The other item was a shield of the same hue. Engraved wings spread over its surface.

    ¡®Simple and sincere,¡¯ Lady Isila said, her resonant voice carrying through the brightly lit chamber. ¡®Truth strikes hardest when it is unadorned. You carry strength undimmed by distraction. Do you accept your new name and calling, Sanah¡¯?l, you who are true of heart and honest?¡¯

    She took the sword, letting her fingers settle on its hilt, familiarising itself with its weight. Next, she grabbed hold of the shield, strapping it around her forearm. It was small and light, but the steel proved itself to be solid when she tapped it with the blade.

    ¡®I do,¡¯ she said. ¡®Thank you, my lady.¡¯

    ¡®The blade¡¯s name is Riala. May it bring you to good fortune. You, who were once lowly and now risen to new heights.¡¯

    Sanah¡¯?l bowed.

    Lady Isila looked on her, and Sanah¡¯?l could feel the weight of expectation and responsibility. She had never been trusted, and never trusted anyone.

    ¡®Do you carry doubts, child?¡¯ Lady Isila said. ¡®Do you worry about your brother? Fear not, for you will share a purpose.¡¯

    ¡®Why am I here?¡¯

    The slightest frown crossed Isila¡¯s face, a tiny wrinkle in her perfect, golden features. ¡®Do not let Rubi?l¡¯s taunting words belittle you. You are here because I chose you.¡¯

    Sanah¡¯?l nodded. The finality of Isila¡¯s voice instilled surety.

    ¡®Look where we are, Sanah¡¯?l,¡¯ said the Lady.

    They stood before two ornate wooden doors set into bevelled, stone archways. Figures were etched in the doors¡¯ panels and an illegible script accompanied them. A narrative captured in relief.

    ¡®You want to know what awaits you,¡¯ Lady Isila said. ¡®Before you is a story. One you surely know in song but not in truth.¡¯

    ***

    The sun sank behind mountains in the heavens, casting dreamlike light across the paved courtyard. Sanah¡¯?l held onto her weapons with her life as the day around her died. She feared losing them at any moment. As if they were not truly hers.

    She swung at armoured dummies, feeling sweat accrue on her back and moisten her hair. Each strike reverberated powerfully, shooting satisfying aches through her arms. She finished with a flourish and knocked the dummy¡¯s head off its standing.

    ¡®The blade looks good on you,¡¯ Nathariel called out from behind her.

    Sanah¡¯?l accosted him, panting. ¡®How long have you been standing there?¡¯

    ¡®A while. You move very gracefully.¡¯

    She turned back and picked up the fallen piece.

    ¡®You are meant to return the compliment,¡¯ Nathariel said.

    ¡®You stand very frustratingly,¡¯ Sanah¡¯?l retorted.

    ¡®That¡¯s not quite it.¡¯

    ¡®You are a master of exploration, having so thoroughly mapped out the reaches of your own backside.¡¯

    ¡®Try again.¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯re insufferable.¡¯

    Nathariel chuckled and hopped down from his perch. ¡®Is it quite so hard for you to be nice?¡¯

    ¡®Is it quite so hard for you to be humble?¡¯

    ¡®You wound me, Sanah.¡¯

    ¡®I wish.¡¯ She sneered at him and readied her blade.

    ¡®Ah, here we go.¡¯ He picked up a practice sword from a nearby stash. ¡®The ever-genuine Sanah.¡¯

    She smiled. ¡®Striking down the ever-boastful Nathariel.¡¯

    He clicked with his mouth and raised an eyebrow. Sanah could not help but be infected by his light-heartedness.

    They lunged at each other, their blades sending sparks as the first stars appeared above them.

    ***

    Sanah sat on a rock overlooking a valley, legs dangling. Nathariel was next to her, leaning back. They watched the sun collapse into the horizon, streaking the sky with red. Beyond them, the land fell away into misty, undefined distance. It was strange to be so high above the sunset.

    She breathed easily in the evening air. Her blade and shield were nearby and she rubbed at her arms, feeling the duress of a practice battle.

    ¡®You know, I saved you some of that cake,¡¯ Nathariel said.

    Sanah eyed him awkwardly. He brought out a bundle and gave it to her.

    She took a bite, tasting chocolate and almonds. The sweetest thing she had eaten in a long time. ¡®You made this? It¡¯s actually decent.¡¯

    ¡®But of course, for it is¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t,¡¯ she said. She chewed in silence for a while. ¡®You bake wonderfully.¡¯

    Nathariel beamed. ¡®There you go.¡¯

    As the sun nearly disappeared and night slowly took over, Sanah could not help but sense that something was about to slip away. A moment that was fast getting away from her.

    ¡®Sanah, listen,¡¯ Nathariel said, facing her. ¡®I¡­ Hmm. No. You are so intriguing. You harbour such tenacity. The way you grasp each moment, each chance, each breath¡­ is truly something.¡¯

    ¡®Nathariel, you¡¯re mumbling,¡¯ she said from behind a rushing smile.

    ¡®Ah, I¡¯m sorry. Sanah, I want to get to know you more. Would you give me this chance?¡¯

    ¡®Me?¡¯ she said, astounded. ¡®But, I thought surely you and Rubi¡­¡¯

    Nathariel frowned and shook his head. ¡®No. No. We never¡­ No, she and I would never get along. Rubi?l is proud and hard-hearted. Deceptive, even. But you, Sanah¡­ you are so candid. It¡¯s delightful.¡¯

    Sanah looked away. ¡®But I am not beautiful,¡¯ she said in a low voice.

    Nathariel widened his eyes. ¡®What? Sanah, please, don¡¯t misunderstand me. It¡¯s simply that I learned from my father to value character foremost.¡¯ He clasped his hands together. ¡®See, my mother was a lovely woman, strong and trustworthy. Beautiful, also, but that faded in an accident. And yet, my father loved her all the more, not less. I aspire to that kind of commitment.¡¯

    Sanah gazed at him, drawing closer.

    ¡®Uh, not that I am comparing your situation to hers. Sanah, you are beautiful. But it¡¯s not about that. Beneath Rubi?l¡¯s beauty is a subtle dagger. One I do not wish to fall into. But you, you have real beauty even as you are lovely to behold.¡¯

    ¡®Is that a confession?¡¯ she asked, smiling.

    ¡®I guess it is.¡¯

    ¡®Nathariel, you¡¯ve stopped being ridiculous.¡¯

    ¡®Well, the sky is red right now, isn¡¯t it?¡¯

    ***

    ¡®Land, ho!¡¯ a croaky voice cried out. Sanah¡¯?l came to, startled by the sailor¡¯s shout. She emerged from her memories with her mind on a land far above and a lover far away. She was back in the grey dullness of the world and the grim direness of her mission. The ugly island of Sanaros peeked out of the sea in front of their vessel.

    As they approached, Sanah¡¯?l spotted sails bearing the golden lion of Anardes. An Imperial galleon. The vessel was conspicuously docked in a cove, away from the body of marine traffic.

    Well, this will be interesting.

    The sailor pulled their little boat into dock. The man immediately blocked the way off and held out his hand. Sanah stood curtly and paid the two sheleh ferry. The coins clinked in the man¡¯s hand and he grunted, satisfied.

    As she stepped off into the bustling crowd, Sanah¡¯?l almost felt bad for pocketing five of the man¡¯s own. But old habits die hard and if nothing else, she was a creature of habit.

 Chapter Nineteen - This Splintered Light

    When Asphales opened his eyes, he knew he had not awoken. He stood amid black. His feet treaded water. Stars and eons rushed by in a quiet river of light. He stepped through as gold and silver streaks flitted past him and into the infinite horizon.

    The river was soothing, and for a moment, it was as if all was reversed. The great, empty nothing was above him and he walked through the sky. Then a crushing weight suddenly fell upon his shoulders and Asphales was driven to his knees. There he saw it.

    The face reflected in the water was not his own. Where the stream touched it, the light slowed and wilted. It muddied, growing blackened and rotten. Asphales dimly made out pale skin and charcoal hair beneath the surface.

    And a dark and terrible gaze stared back at him. It caught him, seared him. The water began to boil.

    How long will you be able to stand?

    Asphales closed his eyes.

    You will falter.

    Asphales clenched his fists.

    You will fall.

    Asphales reached for his blade. His one anchor. It felt so heavy. He lifted it and drove it into the reflection. Puffs of black flame spit out in answer.

    When your own soul is panged, you will lose everything¡­

    A hand gripped his shoulder and Asphales was elsewhere. The horrid face was gone. The water and the dark were gone. Only his shallow breaths and constant shaking remained.

    A steady hand held him. Asphales gazed up and took in his surroundings. Light engulfed him. He was in an unfamiliar room but the creaky wooden beams and aged window frames spoke of comfort. He focused and found Eltanin¡¯s ruby eyes intently fixed on him.

    ¡®Astera psallo. Astera terein te hup¨­nia.¡¯ The man was mumbling. ¡®Ho, boy,¡¯ he finally called in a commanding whisper, ¡®calm yourself.¡¯

    ¡®Where am I? What time is it?¡¯ Asphales asked as he rubbed his eyes. ¡®What am I¡ª¡¯

    ¡®One thing at a time, lad. We are at Taeladran. Arrived this morning, but soon after we walked through the gates you nearly collapsed of exhaustion. The captain showed your company to these fine lodgings where you have been sleeping ever since. It is late afternoon now.¡¯

    Asphales sighed and leant back against a woollen pillow. The spinning stopped and that sickening feeling of being wrenched from another world finally faded. Eltanin released his grip.

    ¡®Plagued by dreams, are you?¡¯

    ¡®Nightmares, yes,¡¯ Asphales answered, closing his eyes.

    ¡®More of a daymare, if you ask me,¡¯ Eltanin said, ¡®considering your choice of slumbering hours.¡¯

    Asphales chuckled softly. ¡®It¡¯s something of a habit of mine.¡¯ He took a breath. ¡®The dreams are growing more intense. Amaleron said I somehow see a realm between our world and the other, because I am an Elderchild.¡¯

    Eltanin looked pensive. ¡®Yes, and for all I disapprove of old Antares¡¯ habits, I know he is rarely mistaken. As for your visions¡­ soon they will be more than dreams. We must prepare.¡¯

    ¡®How?¡¯

    ¡®Your starlight is in turmoil. It must be tamed and put to use.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m not quite sure what that means.¡¯

    ¡®Well, this is the place for it. It is a day for learning. So, up you get, lad!¡¯ He tapped him on the shoulder and strode off, expecting to be followed. His nightshade cloak trailed. Eltanin turned as he reached the door. ¡®The others are already outside, waiting.¡¯

    Asphales heard the door click shut, and after a moment, rose up from his bedding. He looked around and found his possessions neatly laid out around the homely chamber¡¯s sparse furniture. He reached for his sword, a motion which now brought familiar encouragement. He threw on his breastplate and its trailing crimson cape, and made for the exit.

    Asphales reached the door and took a step into an unknown city as afternoon light broke through. He wondered what would await him here. It would be a day for learning, indeed.

    * * *

    Sanah¡¯?l snaked her way through a crowd. She kept her hand planted on her blade¡¯s pommel. Not only for comfort and defence, but also to keep her past instincts at bay. Her eyes could still pick out the pockets worth looting, the coats promising coin for another day¡¯s slog.

    But she was no longer that person. Riala. She was fortunate now.

    She moved along, not meeting the eyes of those who were sizing her up. Sanaros was not a pretty place, so at least here she would not stand out too much. Everyone carried a sword, or a scar at least, and skulked with shady steps.

    She followed suit, trudging through endless alleys of featureless brick structures, each accompanied by equally unflattering scents. The island¡¯s denizens milled about, the clever ones quick and quiet about their undoubtedly unsavoury business.

    The rest¡­ well, their dejected look said it all.

    In Sanaros, no one looked each other in the eye and no one asked questions. Secrecy and discretion were as much the currency of the island as the clinking coins which guilty hands exchanged. To pry could cause offense with dire consequences.

    Sanah¡¯?l intended to do precisely that.

    For here rumour was the lifeblood, spread through countless intertwining channels. She understood why the Order manipulated Sanaros¡¯ information networks to advance its own cause, even if she did not like it.

    Sanah could no longer stand the crowd¡¯s veiled attention. It was a vague sensation, where everyone took heed but dared not speak out. A fog of whispers and distrusting looks. She ducked into an alley to escape.

    Deeper into Sanaros, its true heart was revealed. It was not a beautiful thing which festered under its mask. The island¡¯s sinister wares were on display. Women sold their bodies and men their blades in service. They hung around the shanties, haggard and harrowed. Pleasure or pain, Sanaros enticed with remedies.

    Here, the eyes were fewer but the gazes sharper. Sanah ignored them. But she did not overlook the figures huddled in the corner. Hazy-eyed and gaunt-faced children watched her pass. Her heart broke for the hapless beggars and the orphans, victims of misfortune and reckless greed.

    She approached. They tensed, wishing to scamper but lacking the motivation. They must have figured whatever she could do to them would be no worse than what they had already suffered. Bruises showed through the tears in their tattered, dust-ridden clothes.

    Sanah stopped a few feet before them. She bent down and laid out the coins she had stolen from the ferryman. She reasoned the remorse from taking them could be alleviated by this act. Then Sanah reached into her coat and drew out a couple of small daggers. She placed them by the coins.

    ¡®For you,¡¯ she said, pointing to the money. ¡®Don¡¯t squander it.¡¯

    Her finger moved to the daggers. ¡®For others. Never on those next to you. Protect each other.¡¯

    The children gave a curt nod, their first sign of life. Sanah stood up and walked on. She heard shuffling in the dirt as barefooted urchins made their way over to collect their treasure.

    Sanah tore herself away from the children, satisfied yet hollow. She knew it was hopeless. Like trying to snuff out a fire with a single teardrop. She hoped that one day the riches of her new world would spill over and swallow up this cursed place.

    Further in, bricks and boulders choked out what little plant life grew in patches. It was a labyrinth, traversed only by those who truly abandoned themselves to an empty existence in the pits of this island.

    But she was not lost. No, she knew how to navigate this world. And she knew when she was being watched.

    Time-tested reactions kicked in and Sanah spun just in time to see a figure emerge from a crevice in a wall. Another hopped down from above to join it. Scrambling footsteps behind her announced the presence of a third.

    She looked at them, not with fear but with pity. Three young men, barely older and fitter than the children she left behind, accosted her. Sanah knew they would not be so easily appeased. Time and circumstance forced the young to do foolish things in order to prove their worth.

    One of them took a step forward. It was a barebones attempt at leadership. The scruffy-haired boy pulled out a dull blade.

    ¡®Hand it over,¡¯ the boy said unsteadily.

    Sanah took a step toward him. ¡®You¡¯ll have to be more specific,¡¯ she said. ¡®You don¡¯t seem to know who I am.¡¯

    ¡®Stop! Or I¡¯ll cut you.¡¯ The youngster wiped his forehead nervously. ¡®The money. We saw you drop those coins back there.¡¯

    Sanah walked on, unconcerned. The boy in front of her made a quick gesture with his eyes, but Sanah caught it. Before the one behind her barely started to run, she turned and grabbed him by the arm. He yelped as he was thrown over and knocked to the ground. His flimsy weapon flew out of his hand.

    Scruffy-hair took a step back but then composed himself. ¡®Grem, take her!¡¯ The tall, scarred one beside him bared his teeth and made for Sanah, a crude but vicious club in his hands.

    Sanah¡¯?l unfurled her coat, revealing her blade. She drew it, producing its matching shield at the same time. Grem¡¯s club came down but was swatted away by Sanah¡¯s shield. Then she brought the hilt of her weapon up and caught the young man in the jaw. Sanah finished off the dazed boy with a kick that sent him crashing into the wall.

    The scruffy one panicked but didn¡¯t retreat. He let out a ragged breath and swung. It was futile. Without effort, Sanah twisted his wrist and tore away his dagger. Then she pulled up behind him, her arm firmly held against the boy¡¯s throat. She kicked at his knees to bring him down.

    ¡®As I see it, I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll be doing any cutting.¡¯

    The gangly boy managed to spit at her. Sanah¡¯?l sighed. A leashed dog didn¡¯t even know when to quit struggling.

    ¡®Do you see this?¡¯ she asked, leaning down and forcing the boy¡¯s head to face the bronze insignia that tied her cape. ¡®You know what it means. Now, here¡¯s how this is going to work. I will ask you a question, you answer, and you and all your friends get off with barely more than bruises and embarrassment.¡¯

    Scruffy-hair nodded furiously, choking back a cry. Sanah released her grip slightly so the boy could speak.

    ¡®You boys seem to know your way around,¡¯ she said. ¡®You¡¯ve surely seen a few interesting things. What do you know of the Empire¡¯s presence?¡¯

    The boy swallowed before he answered. Hesitant. ¡®There¡¯s a ship¡ª¡¯

    ¡®I know that, you fool,¡¯ she cut him off. ¡®I need more.¡¯

    ¡®An old man is prowling about. He¡¯s got two ladies with him, real pretty like. Bloody fool¡¯s asking questions about you¡­ about the Order.¡¯

    ¡®Where?¡¯

    ¡®Up at the Hunched Dragon. They wasn¡¯t gonna stay long, but I figure you might still catch ¡®em.¡¯

    Sanah¡¯?l huffed and threw the brigand against the wall. ¡®That wasn¡¯t so hard, was it?¡¯ She walked over and placed two shelehi in the fallen boy¡¯s hands. Honest information was worth honest pay. The boy groaned softly.

    ¡®Sorry, Empire¡¯s coin is all I have,¡¯ she said as she leant over him. ¡®And I have another task for you. Spread the word. There¡¯s work out at the Eye. Might suit you boys better, too.¡¯

    Sanah¡¯?l stood, put away her shield, and sheathed her sword. Drawing the coat over herself again, she hid her weapons, made herself unassuming once more.

    ¡®Show this to the boatswain,¡¯ Sanah said. And before she turned to head toward the Hunched Dragon, she tore the Order¡¯s brooch off her shoulder and threw it away. The eagle-crested piece fell to the ground with a ring.

    * * *

    Asphales breathed in the icy afternoon air. Taeladran was just as impressive on the inside. Slate-grey stone melded with the mountain, as if the city¡¯s structures grew off naturally. Craning his neck, Asphales noticed crystal-like protrusions on the heights of the mountain.

    With his eyes on the blue gemstones above, Asphales nearly bumped into a civilian. The tall woman barely avoided him, expertly keeping hold of the wares she was carrying. Asphales flushed and bowed in apology, keeping his gaze forward from then.

    He had emerged into a relatively busy market-like courtyard at the base of the mountain. Dozens of men and women bustled to and fro, accompanied by the mess of sights and sounds native to a place of business. Higher up, guards could be seen patrolling on rocky archways. Both civilians and soldiers wore thicker outfits to fight the chilly mountain breeze. Fur-lined coats and long, woollen garments were common. And while the fashion seemed to be comprised of muted colours, almost everyone was adorned with trinkets or jewellery¡ªlittle chunks of the same sapphire gems embedded in bracelets, necklaces, and even sword hilts.

    It did not take long for Asphales to find the others, seated at an outdoor table by a shopfront. Ad¨¦lia¡¯s scarlet hair stood out starkly against her silver armour. Darius¡¯ black blade was unmissable, and Valinos¡­ well, Asphales had long ago learned to spot him in a crowd.

    It was El¡¯enur who noticed him first, however. The archer looked up from the card game they were enjoying and called out. Asphales waved and hurried over to them.

    ¡®I never thought I would see this,¡¯ Asphales said as he laid a hand on Valinos¡¯ shoulder. ¡®Since when are you into card games or anything, well, fun?¡¯

    Valinos shrugged off Asphales¡¯ hand. ¡®Since Amarant Darius promised he¡¯d instruct me if I win,¡¯ he said, determined.

    Darius played a card down. ¡®You have to remember I play with Guldar. The man would be a cardsmith if he were not a soldier.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m pretty sure that man breathes cards and bleeds coffee,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, setting down his own card.

    ¡®Sounds impressive,¡¯ a voice said, ¡®but I¡¯m just here for the moonglint chips.¡¯ Asphales realised there was another man present. Nathariel, the guard who had greeted them at the gate, had joined in the game. The man gave him a quick nod and returned his attention to the table. Asphales looked over and saw little gems scattered about, acting as the price the players had wagered.

    ¡®Thank you, I heard what you did this morning,¡¯ Asphales said, appraising the russet-haired man at the table. Nathariel shot him a short glance and smiled.

    ¡®Good afternoon, Asphales,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said. She was not involved in the game, but she watched on. Occasionally, she would brush a windswept lock out of her eyes and Asphales caught a glimpse of emerald more brilliant than any gemstone.

    ¡®Good afternoon,¡¯ he replied. ¡®It seems I¡¯m developing a knack for waking up in strange and wonderful places.¡¯

    ¡®At least I didn¡¯t have to carry you this time,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said with a smile. Those around the table laughed and Asphales distracted himself by picking up one of the chips. ¡®What are these?¡¯ he asked.

    ¡®Moonglint,¡¯ Nathariel said. ¡®One of Taeladran¡¯s wonders. Naturally-occurring crystal from up on the mountain. It¡¯s our main trade and we set it on everything as a symbol or something like that.¡¯ Nathariel flashed a moonglint-dotted bracelet beneath his sleeve as a demonstration.

    ¡®Doesn¡¯t look like any piece of the moon to me,¡¯ El¡¯enur said.

    ¡®No, but at night when the moonlight hits the stone, it shines like a blaze. It¡¯s the most beautiful thing you¡¯ll see¡­ and enough to make any woman swoon.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡¯ El¡¯enur said.

    Asphales set down the intricate stone and looked around. ¡®Where did Lord Eltanin wander off to?¡¯

    ¡®If I had a chip every time I¡¯ve asked that,¡¯ Nathariel said, ¡®perhaps I would own the moon.¡¯

    ¡®Planning to turn my absence into a lucrative business?¡¯ Eltanin boomed.

    All heads turned toward the voice. Eltanin appeared with a wineskin in his hand and a guard by his side. He sauntered as always, garbed in finery and with a step unconcerned for the crumbling of the world. The guard beside him looked more serious, immaculately uniformed and carrying himself with such collected authority that even the scars on his bald head seemed to have their set place. Another captain, perhaps.

    ¡®Black Banner,¡¯ Valinos called suddenly and swept the cards on the table toward him. Apparently, he had won.

    ¡®Look at that,¡¯ Nathariel commented, setting down his cards in defeat, ¡®the little gloomy princeling¡¯s actually done it.¡¯

    ¡®Can we split the winnings?¡¯ El¡¯enur asked sheepishly. ¡®You were playing for Darius after all, not the chips, right?¡¯

    Valinos grinned. ¡®I may see fit to bestow some meagre grace upon you, El.¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t let this get to your head, boy,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®But I will hold up my end of the bargain.¡¯

    At that moment, the guard who had arrived with Eltanin walked over to the table. His displeasure was evident on his face and in his posture. ¡®Shirking your duties?¡¯ he said chidingly toward Nathariel. ¡®And gambling, no less.¡¯

    ¡®Kas, you gamble every time you go out looking like that. Eventually someone will put you out of your misery.¡¯

    The man named Kas did not flinch at Nathariel¡¯s comment. He merely stood expectantly. Nathariel sighed. ¡®This is Captain Kasil,¡¯ he said. ¡®The other half of Taeladran¡¯s captainship, in charge of the Talon Guard. I have the dubious fortune of serving beside him. But if anything may be said, it is that the law of contrast assures my beauty is enhanced in his company.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯d rather be a freak than a fool,¡¯ Kasil said.

    As their bickering went on, Darius turned his attention to the Elder. Eltanin was swigging the wineskin. ¡®Don¡¯t mind them,¡¯ he said between mouthfuls of wine, ¡®they carry on like brothers.¡¯

    ¡®I wasn¡¯t concerned about them,¡¯ Darius said with a raised eyebrow.

    ¡®Ah, master Inidir¨­n, if you must know, I was out to purchase a drink. I simply could not afford to miss today¡¯s special. But let us move on to other matters, now that we are decidedly well-rested and well away from any more porcine assailants.¡¯

    Asphales looked at Eltanin strangely. He is so different, he thought. Could this really be one who fought against the darkness? Somehow it seemed difficult to picture this man beside the likes of Amaleron, or even the imagination of his own father. Only the spectacle Asphales had witnessed the previous night assuaged his doubts.

    ¡®I have surmised the reason for your presence,¡¯ Eltanin continued. ¡®A contingent including some of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s most powerful heading for my city? One could begin to think something large was afoot.¡¯

    ¡®It will not be your city for long,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®Shadows are on the move. If you had been at council when the steward called it, perhaps you would not act so frivolously.¡¯

    ¡®Perhaps you should treasure such light-hearted moments among friends, for they will be few in the coming days. But have no fear. I have not lain sequestered in this city, ignorant of what is out there. I may have no love for Antares¡¯ meetings, but I assure you I care for the turnings of this world.¡¯

    ¡®Then you must help us,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said, rising from her seat. Her earnest plea dispelled the mounting tension. Asphales was struck by the passion in her voice. He noticed then, in the silence, that the two captains had stopped arguing.

    ¡®My dear, I will do all I can. You have my word. For I know who it is that stands before me.¡¯ Something of a true smile appeared on the Elder¡¯s face. ¡®Hope. Those of light, born to do what we could not. Born to slay the shadow.¡¯

    ¡®How did you know to expect us?¡¯ Asphales asked. ¡®How did you recognise me that night at the Waypoint?¡¯

    ¡®My boy, you really must learn to keep to one question at a time. I became aware of you through songs and stories, as you would expect. And when I saw you that night, I recognised who you were. The resemblance was striking. Here was Hadar¡¯s son, just as she had told. For you see, these songs have been carefully preserved and passed on by a silver-haired messenger.¡¯

    Asphales froze.

    ¡®Her name is Thalassia Es¨¦linor.¡¯

    * * *

    All eyes turned to Sanah as she stepped through creaking wooden doors into the main hall of the Hunched Dragon. Decrepit but cosy, the tavern was the roosting ground for every kind of undesirable. A leery-eyed lutist stopped mid-strum, breaking the spell he held over his audience, and spat. Two women nearby with less clothing than wits began whispering.

    Pipe-smoke and the smell of ale made Sanah¡¯s eyes sting, but she walked on undeterred. It was not Sanah¡¯s weapons that drew the gazes, for more than most around her were armed with cudgels, daggers, and other assorted blades. Nor was it her lacking beauty. This was a Sanaros tavern, where the uninitiated were beaten for ten shelehi and killed for less.

    ¡®Wha¡¯ cannae ge¡¯ ye?¡¯ asked a man behind the counter. He was missing more teeth than syllables. Blissfully, the tavern master¡¯s greeting signalled the rest to return to their tables¡¯ activities. The women¡¯s eyes fell back to their cards and drinks, the men¡¯s to the women.

    Sanah leaned on the counter. It gave way and creaked like an old man¡¯s hips. ¡®Coffee, and news,¡¯ she said in hushed tones.

    The tavern master worked his lips soundlessly for a while. He finally settled on something in his mind.

    ¡®Tha¡¯ll be five an¡¯ two. Gil!¡¯ He yelled the last word toward the other end of the counter.

    ¡®Five shelehi?¡¯ Sanah asked.

    ¡®No, girl, five dogs an¡¯ two blis¡¯ers. O¡¯cours¡¯ shelehi, y¡¯git! Gil! Wha¡¯ d¡¯I pay y¡¯for, y¡¯oaf?¡¯ The man seemed to be calling for a servant. Gil was a towering figure, a couple of heads taller than Sanah and several wider. He walked out of a back room and instinctively, Sanah visualised three ways to bring him down in the event proceedings turned unfavourable.

    But the hulking, bald man went about his task amicably, with little more than a mutter for complaint. He was not the regular coffee-maker, but whatever surprise Sanah felt was quickly dispelled. In Sanaros, souls came and went. One quickly learned faces were forgettable and people were disposable.

    ¡®Right. Tha¡¯s taken care of.¡¯ The tavern master¡¯s voice turned business-like. Eyes expectant, unkind.

    Sanah set the money on the counter and the master¡¯s greedy hand gobbled them up before other eyes could spot anything.

    ¡®Coffee¡¯ll be brough¡¯ t¡¯ya table.¡¯ A significant look toward the corner was all the confirmation Sanah received to indicate the information she was after had been given. Gil glanced up wordlessly as Sanah turned to find her seat in a sea of hostile people.

    She made her way through to a table inconspicuously set up near the tavern¡¯s only windows. Music picked up once more, but Sanah knew it was not mirth but madness behind the tune. These denizens would be all dagger and club as quick as a song changed.

    The table¡¯s occupants stopped their conversation as Sanah approached. An old man dressed in fine silks sat there, flanked by two women. Veiled and sporting ornate dresses, Sanah could see they were much younger. She would have written the old man off as a simple peddler of pleasure, but his eyes were kind, aging green like zircon.

    ¡®Welcome, lady,¡¯ he said. The two women shuffled and proffered a seat.

    ¡®There are no ladies in Sanaros,¡¯ Sanah said, sitting down. She turned her stool sideways, so as to not have the entire tavern out of view.

    ¡®You are unkind to yourself, and to my companions. These are my¡­ consorts,¡¯ the old man said. ¡®We may speak openly before them.¡¯

    ¡®I have no intention to join your¡­ entourage,¡¯ Sanah said. She tried to read the two women beside him. Beneath one¡¯s veil, Sanah could make out raven hair and jade eyes. The other was too covered to see much.

    ¡®Indeed. Regardless, to whom do I owe the pleasure?¡¯ asked the old man.

    ¡®Pleasure is cheap and seldom lasts.¡¯

    The old man chuckled. ¡®You are a hardy one. But one rarely strikes a purposeless conversation in these parts. Pray tell, why do you approach?¡¯

    ¡®Perhaps it is simply to warn the fool who has walked out into the storm unsheltered.¡¯

    The old man leaned forward, a glint in his eye. ¡®And this coming out of the kindness of your heart? How ladylike.¡¯

    Sanah said nothing for a while. She was certain the old man and his companions belonged to the Empire. But she wanted to prod further. To expose their gambit. ¡®Who are you, really?¡¯ she asked.

    ¡®Opportunists, my dear. There¡¯s coin to be made in the business of war and the tides are changing. I sense it will no longer be the Empire who will hold the world in its grip once the dust settles. Kerenan unrest is particularly brewing. You can smell it in the air here, certain as the stench of grog.¡¯ The old man scrunched his crooked nose.

    ¡®And you come to war draped in silk and cotton? How foolish.¡¯

    The old man chuckled again. ¡®You¡¯ll find that one often only needs to look the part to get by. But enough sidestepping. We want in.¡¯

    Before the old man could elaborate, a server interrupted their meeting. Sanah looked up from the conversation to see Gil, the brewer from earlier, stop by with a few mugs. ¡®Coffee,¡¯ he said. The man cut an imposing figure, but his speech drawled.

    ¡®Thank you, my good man,¡¯ the elder said and accepted the tray. Gil walked away with thudding footsteps.

    Sanah accepted her own mug, but her mind was on edge. The old man did not seem in a hurry to explain himself. He offered two mugs to the women beside him, and then sipped from his own. He savoured the aroma and the taste with eyes closed, unworried. As if all the world was right.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    ¡®You were saying?¡¯ Sanah prompted.

    The old man placed his cup down and licked his lips. ¡®I was not to say anything. This will speak for itself.¡¯ He reached into the folds of his silken robe and placed something down on the table.

    The object landed with a soft clank.

    When the old man moved his hand away, Sanah saw it.

    A brooch of bronze, engraved with a wild boar.

    Only two such items were granted to men, and Sanah¡¯?l suspected which one was before her. The taunts of Shurun¡¯el¡¯s failure descended on her again, like birds of prey.

    Oh, silly little brother.

    Sanah kept her gaze on the old man. He was looking at her intently.

    ¡®A dangerous thing to carry,¡¯ said Sanah.

    ¡®Or perhaps an opportunity,¡¯ the old man retorted. ¡®We are aware who really pulls the strings around here. Among the half-wits and the worms here are the exceptional ones. We want to join their ranks.¡¯

    Scarcely had he finished speaking when Sanah¡¯?l slipped a dagger from her cloak and thrust her hand toward the old man. Her weapon met resistance. In a flash, the veiled woman with jade eyes had produced her own blade and blocked the attempt. Sanah¡¯?l had meant only to threaten, but clearly, they were prepared for this eventuality.

    ¡®I see,¡¯ Sanah said. ¡®You do not merely look the part. What is your name?¡¯

    ¡®Lena,¡¯ the dark-haired woman said. Her voice did not waver.

    ¡®As you can see,¡¯ the old man began, ¡®you need not worry about us, so you can spare your words of warning.¡¯

    Both Sanah¡¯?l and Lena put away their weapons. The rest of the tavern seemed not to have noticed. Even if they had, a simple quarrel like this was nothing out of the ordinary.

    ¡®Where did you get this?¡¯ Sanah asked.

    The old man leaned forward and lowered his voice. ¡®You¡¯ve already run into our source. A simple man, here only to serve.¡¯

    ¡®That lout?¡¯ Sanah¡¯s eyes flicked back to the counter. Gil was there, inconspicuous as ever, cleaning flasks and mugs.

    ¡®The simpleton waved it around earlier, boasting that a member of the Order had been supplanted. One of my companions here¡­ persuaded him to hand it over. We saw this as a chance, whether the claim is true or not.¡¯

    ¡®Shurun¡¯el would not be defeated so easily.¡¯

    The old man¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡®Indeed.¡¯ His hand swiped the brooch off the table.

    Sanah cleared her throat. ¡®The Order¡¯s business is their own. How they choose to operate is not my prerogative.¡¯

    ¡®My dear, let me speak plainly. You seem an exceptional one. What is your connection?¡¯

    Sanah took a draught of the coffee and pushed her chair back. Rising, she said, ¡®I wish you and your companions the best. May you ask safer questions and find better answers.¡¯

    She turned without another word and left the old man to the song, smoke, and scheming of the Hunched Dragon.

    * * *

    ¡®She has been hunted for years,¡¯ Eltanin explained as the group made their way up through winding stone-cut stairs. Asphales listened raptly even as they passed wondrous rock formations and marvels of architecture carved out of the mountain¡¯s very bones. Though the houses seemed austere, Taeladran¡¯s citizens decorated them with coloured drapery and paraphernalia intended to complement the simplicity of the stone¡¯s design.

    He was being led to a place of training, to where he could finally come to grips with his strange nature. But his attention was on the Elder¡¯s words regarding his mother.

    ¡®For a long time she was silent, keeping herself hidden. Once the enemy lost her trail, she could risk acting once more. That is how Thalassia came to send your father¡¯s blade to Fara¡¯ethar. That is how I happened to stumble upon her in my travels.¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯ve met her?¡¯ Asphales asked. ¡®Where?¡¯

    ¡®Out near the Undorn pass into Pleiad?. About two years ago, just prior to the Battle of Feres. I was investigating threads and links to the slaughter of the Nod¨¬r Maia, and then war ensued.¡¯

    Darius, Ad¨¦lia, and El¡¯enur darkened at the mention of Feres. Asphales knew they had been in that battle, and though he was not aware of the details, he figured it was not a pleasant memory.

    ¡®Quite by chance, I ran into her. Once she ascertained who I was, she spoke more openly about what had happened. That is when I found out Hadar had fallen. The outbreak of the conflict meant she had to flee once more, and it was not until recently that she could deliver the blade¡ªand the message of your whereabouts¡ªto the Empire.¡¯

    ¡®Where is she now?¡¯

    Eltanin hesitated. The others looked on curiously.

    ¡®I do not know her exact location. Far as I can tell, she journeys with a band of Eastern freedom fighters, dissenters from the current regime.¡¯

    Asphales started, anxious to speak, ready to burst with questions once more.

    ¡®Now, before you get it in your head to set out on a quest, know this. That is not what she would want. Not yet. We have a task to complete here first. Before you are of any use out there, Asphales, you must come to terms with who you are within.¡¯

    Asphales cooled his simmering thoughts. ¡®My mother is alive,¡¯ he whispered.

    ¡®Yes, she poured all she had into this one desperate plan. Do not squander the chance she has created. Now, follow on. Let¡¯s make you worthy to carry that blade.¡¯

    Asphales¡¯ gaze fell to the ground, his thoughts in turmoil as they walked onward. Sounds of the marketplace died down and the wind picked up.

    To their right, the path split and led to a fortress on a steep outcrop. Encased within the mountain¡¯s walls like an eagle beneath its wings, the slick, brick-lined structure stood proud. No windows spoiled the stonework save for two panes of stained glass above its dark wooden door. One depicted a doe, the other a lion. The colours¡ªreds and blues¡ªgave the otherwise ascetic building a sacred look, reminiscent of a cathedral.

    And beyond it, the land spread out in undefined patches of rivers, grass, and sparsely wooded plains. The clouds hung close and loose, wind-driven splotches of grey to remind one and all that autumn had descended. In the distance, the Undorn Mountains edged the entire landscape like the frame of a painting.

    Out there somewhere, Asphales thought, I will meet her again.

    Eltanin led the group up higher near the city¡¯s peak. They passed underneath the gaze of two stone statues perched on a large archway hewn from rock. The lion and the doe were there once again, silent guardians to a holy place.

    They emerged onto a large, arena-like platform. Raised several feet off the ground, the plateau was unnaturally flat, clearly shaped by skilled hands. The round structure spread out and receded into the mountain itself. Above, hanging like a cavern ceiling, the mountain¡¯s peak loomed, overshadowing the arena. Torches on the rock walls lit up the vastness of the opening.

    At this altitude, the breeze was stronger. It whipped Asphales¡¯ mantle and kicked up dust in short, swirling bursts. He shielded his eyes as he stepped up onto the platform, following Eltanin¡¯s lead.

    ¡®Here we are,¡¯ Eltanin said, his voice echoing off the cavernous walls. ¡®This is where Hadar trained the Dragonking.¡¯ Eltanin stopped and turned. He seemed grand, a match for the majesty of the scene around him. His eyes were fire and his voice steel. ¡®This is where I will raise up the Dragonking¡¯s slayers.¡¯

    El¡¯enur whistled as he stepped up to Asphales and craned his neck, somehow managing to spoil the solemnity of the moment. Asphales looked around, taking it all in, his head awash with thoughts of what he would learn.

    Valinos walked closer and patted him. ¡®Well, my friend. You¡¯ve come this far. May this bring you clarity.¡¯ His smile was genuine. Asphales welcomed the stable hand, comforting the staggering sensation like an anchor in a storm.

    ¡®And you,¡¯ Asphales replied. ¡®Don¡¯t lose your head.¡¯

    Valinos nodded.

    El¡¯enur cut in. ¡®No, your friend means what he says. You¡¯ve seen the size of Darius¡¯ blade.¡¯

    The three of them laughed, Valinos perhaps more nervously so. Eltanin drew near and smiled. ¡®You lads have the right idea. Keep up that enthusiasm.¡¯ He gave El¡¯enur and Valinos a look. ¡®Off you trot, now.¡¯

    The archer swung his arm around Valinos¡¯ shoulder and led him away. Darius followed suit, soon taking charge of the entourage and directing them to an area of the plateau further in.

    Only Ad¨¦lia remained. Her eyes were steady, her posture unshifting amidst the rolling wind. She watched the Elder quietly. Asphales wondered whether in this moment she, too, felt the apprehension and uncertainty.

    Eltanin faced them, a grin upon his face.

    Asphales could not quite muster the same optimism. ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ he said, ¡®but did you mean what you said earlier? We are to slay the Dragonking? I don¡¯t quite know how that¡ª¡¯

    ¡®What colour is the wind?¡¯ Eltanin shot. ¡®What sound does the sky make? How long does it take for the heart to fall in love?¡¯

    Asphales was silent at the barrage of questions.

    ¡®The first step to knowing is knowing that you don¡¯t know. Know what I mean?¡¯

    Asphales though it over. ¡®I¡­ I think so.¡¯

    ¡®No, you don¡¯t. You are but a boy taken in by wanderlust. We have much work to do. For twenty-three years your starlight has lain dormant. You cannot imagine what it is to face hopelessness for four hundred years. Hence my joy now, master Asphales. And my joy the night I first saw you.¡¯

    ¡®What were you doing out there near Gohenur?¡¯ Asphales asked.

    ¡®I have waited for you a long time. Forgive me if I have indulged in carnal pleasures. But judging by the fact that you¡¯re here, I¡¯d say your father is no stranger to them.¡¯

    Asphales blushed. ¡®Lord Amaleron implied something similar.¡¯ He glanced at Ad¨¦lia. ¡®Were we¡­ not meant to be?¡¯

    Eltanin screwed his features. ¡®I cannot answer that. But we Nodir¨¬m are not supposed to interfere in such ways. Yet, the grace of Regulus is to be trusted, inscrutable though it may be. And Carinae¡¯s providence is kind. For it seems this is how things must unfurl.¡¯

    Asphales drew a breath and steeled himself. Though he may not have had a say in how the lot fell, he was determined to act with what had been cast. How he wished he had not remained ignorant of his fate for all those years in Silnod¨¬r.

    ¡®Why did you not try to contact the Empire earlier?¡¯ he asked.

    ¡®Oh, I have. I tried. I¡¯m not sure if the Empire¡¯s epistolary network is quite aright. Something is interfering with our attempts. I would not risk a visit to such a populated place, for the safety of the common folk. There would also be the added convenience that two Nodir¨¬m in one location would present to the enemy¡­¡¯ Eltanin let his words trail. ¡®So, here we stand, grateful for your mother¡¯s efforts, master Asphales.¡¯

    It was Ad¨¦lia who spoke next. ¡®What was it like to fight the Dragonking?¡¯

    Eltanin closed his eyes for a moment. ¡®Astera horato,¡¯ he whispered. Then he tapped his foot on the pavement.

    Light erupted from the plateau, engulfing them. An ethereal landscape unfolded, rolling over mountains and valleys, through forests and rivers. The shimmering geography settled on what Asphales recognised as the Bay of Anardes. Fara¡¯ethar itself was a flickering shape. Then Eltanin was there, splendid and steel-clad, a silhouette of light among the murkiness. Nine others stood alongside him, similarly bright figures. They were armed and poised in formation, facing the castle.

    A new figure emerged out of the castle, billowing like smoke. Pure black, like a fragment of deepest night, it walked towards the ten glinting warriors. Something like flame emanated from this figure, growing ever higher, twisting about itself, recoiling. Dark wings like wisps of smoke burst out of the silent inferno and spread through the landscape. The figured walked on, the smoky creature thrashing about with a mind of its own.

    The Shadow and the Dragonking, Eltanin spoke through the vision. They are of one mould, like flesh and bone. Tethered to another. Each animating the other.

    The ten warriors were surrounded by unburning fire. As the landscape melted and moulded into black, they leapt towards the Dragonking and his Shadow. Their weapons glowed in revolt against the gathering darkness. They struck with blade and bow and spear, each hit sending flashes of light like scattered cinders.

    When the fighting drew nearer, Asphales could make out faces and features. Most he did not recognise; an old woman with a staff, a fair-haired man wielding a spear, a young archer who shot arrows from her bow with no quiver. But one stood out to him. Hadar the Mighty. Hiraeth the father.

    Asphales reached out to touch him, but his hand had no form here. He resigned himself to watching.

    The weapons of light could not prevail against the dark¡¯s advance. The Dragonking swept with his blade and the landscape withered. Wherever the Shadow touched, lingering cold and dark fell. Like dying stars, the warriors¡¯ weapons were snuffed out.

    Then music and words. Notes and melodies. A brief spark of white. The vision folded in on itself and faded.

    Asphales had not realised it, but his eyes had closed. When he opened them, he was back on the mountain of Taeladran. The Elder was in front of him. Ad¨¦lia beside him. He felt the similar disorientation when waking from one of his unsettling dreams.

    ¡®I believe you know the rest,¡¯ Eltanin said.

    Asphales glanced at Ad¨¦lia. She was wiping her eyes. He thought he caught a smear of black as she did so.

    ¡®Our song,¡¯ Eltanin continued, ¡®your strength. You two will strike with all the force of starlight behind you and vanquish what we could not. That is what we are here to learn.

    ¡®Now, if you would let me begin, I suppose we shall commence with the elementary. Hand me your sword, master Asphales.¡¯

    Asphales stepped up to Eltanin, drew the sword out of its scabbard, and offered it.

    ¡®Nador¨¬l, he used to call it,¡¯ Eltanin said as he took the sword. ¡®Light¡¯s Edge.¡¯

    Eltanin murmured a few words. In his hands, the blade became resplendent, beautifully deadly. With it, the Elder seemed to tower above the mountain, above the city. His ruby eyes were alive with flame. When he handed it back, its radiance dimmed, seeming dull in comparison.

    ¡®Starlight,¡¯ he said, ¡®the lifeforce of the world, flows in everything. It is spirit, it is essence, it is ability and definition. It is the breath of Regulus giving the power of will and body, and the affection of Carinae giving strength of mind and heart. It manifests most clearly in the valour, love, and rage of people. But it is ever present, connecting the purpose of grass and valley, stone and mountain, insect and animal, water and fish, skies and bird, to the will and design of Regulus.

    ¡®What you just witnessed, in the vision and in my own demonstration, is imbuement. The skilled user can draw upon their store of lifeforce and connect it to a receptacle, be it living or not. Since all things are fashioned by the hands of Regulus and Carinae, they are channels for that same lifeforce.

    ¡®This flow of starlight can be directed to enhance a strike, bolster a defence, heal a rupture, and guide movement. The natural world does this on its own accord. Forests and rivers are attuned to the cycle and intent of their lifeforce. Day and night wheel about according to the rhythm of starlight.

    ¡®And yet,¡¯ he went on after a pause, his eyes taking on a wistful glint. ¡®A great heaviness lies on the World That Is. A burden placed on it by the hubris of one who tampered with its basic principles. You can feel it. The lands languish, the forests fester, the seas are sick with it. Some among the world¡¯s creatures have grown foul over the years.

    ¡®So, master and lady, if you are to learn the channelling of starlight, you will need discernment ¨C to look past what is spoiled and stained and connect to the flow of lifeforce as it should be. To infuse your own glorious tune into the world¡¯s song.¡¯ Eltanin¡¯s young face suddenly beamed. ¡®I can only hope and imagine what would happen when you can do this well,¡¯ he said, almost to himself.

    ¡®Now,¡¯ he began in a changed tone, taking his stance. His cloak flapped as he changed posture. ¡®Let¡¯s begin with you, master Asphales.¡¯

    Asphales snapped to attention. He had been lulled into a sense of ease by the Elder¡¯s discourse. And now the same man was before him, drawing out his weapon. A weapon which had taken out a monstrous beast the previous night, Asphales reminded himself.

    ¡®Lady Catena, whatever occurs here, do not intervene,¡¯ Eltanin said. ¡®I suspect your awakening occurred long ago.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia took a few steps back and placed her spear-arm at the ready. She looked to Asphales with kindness. Asphales spared a glance to the others, grouped further in on the plateau. El¡¯enur had taken a seat, watching on as the Amarant was exhibiting his exemplary swordsmanship to Valinos.

    ¡®Eyes on me,¡¯ Eltanin said, noticing the distracted Asphales. ¡®Until now, you could only anticipate the opponent¡¯s movements. However perfectly you do that, you will always be a step behind. I will show you how to direct their actions. Fighting may not be a pleasant endeavour, but you will need to contribute your own notes to this harsh song when called on.¡¯

    Asphales had barely nodded when Eltanin burst forth into action. Asphales brought up his father¡¯s sword¡ªno, his sword now¡ªto meet the Elder¡¯s slash. Steel bit steel and Asphales was pushed back. A few more testing strikes from Eltanin had Asphales stepping around the plateau tiles. Unpleasant but well-practiced motions begged to be used, and Asphales leaned into Ser¨¬n¡¯s drills, learned what seemed a lifetime ago now.

    He had been a different man then, a man barely aware, one who wished to be involved in greater and weightier things but did not know the cost. And now he was face to face with an Elder out of his beloved pages, being prepared to face greater things still.

    Asphales was still clumsy, a mere amateur before one tested by the tide of the ages. Occupied with parrying, Asphales found few chances to throw out attacks of his own. But something else was curious about the fight. He strained his ears as he looked for his opening. Eltanin was speaking, to himself perhaps, too faintly to be heard properly. Asphales tried to focus on his blade¡¯s work rather than the incomprehensible mutters.

    His chance came when Eltanin extended his arm in a thrust. Asphales sidestepped and began an assault. As he did so, flashes of a different battle arose. A crazed bandit in a forest. A hoarse, panicked rush for survival. Blood.

    That is not who he would be. He would not attack with killer intent. But he would step into the role demanded of him. The way he imagined his father fighting, proud and protective.

    ¡®Good!¡¯ Eltanin yelled as his hand caught Asphales¡¯ wrist and deflected the blow. Asphales continued striking. Eltanin dodged nimbly, unexpectedly, like a drunken brawler. And yet there was no randomness to his movements. Each jolt and twist felt intentional, placed precisely to avoid Asphales¡¯ advance. The Elder kept up a litany of musical words as he weaved, his tapping feet almost a dance.

    Asphales strived to keep aware of his surroundings as the duel took them around the plateau. Stepping into shadow, his eyes adjusted to the dimming light. He managed to keep mental notes of where Ad¨¦lia stood and where the others were practicing. He took notice of his footwork.

    Then Eltanin¡¯s sword began to glow. Perhaps he would eventually become used to this, but accounting for the skills of a centuries-old being did not come naturally.

    ¡®Astera balleis¡¯ Eltanin spoke as he brought up his blade to meet Asphales¡¯ own. This collision felt different. It was as if Eltanin¡¯s weapon struck harder, reached farther. There was a starlit shine in the metal with each hit. He hopped back from an incoming slash, and felt the sword ripple the air.

    Asphales exhaled a heavy breath and stepped back into the fray. There is so little I know, he thought. But he pushed on. He ducked a two-handed swipe from Eltanin, and spun into his own attack. Eltanin was already there, bringing the sword down. The glistening blade crashed like a shooting star.

    ¡®There!¡¯ the Elder boomed.

    Some part of Asphales pushed with hidden strength. Hands clenched, he locked his sword in place where Eltanin¡¯s came down, a heartbeat before it happened. There was a silent explosion. A burst of light. Asphales fell to one knee, blade still entwined with the Elder¡¯s.

    A pulsating light shimmered from his own sword. Gold emanated from the engraved words and Asphales felt a connection. He sensed being plunged into a vast reserve of light and life. Asphales was a lake of unplumbed depths, a wave untamed. Wind and water and breath were one in his hands, flowing from deep within, into the weapon, and out into the world¡¯s song. Asphales felt the sea, the sky, and the threads connecting and spanning each realm.

    It was only an instant, but it held such lasting succour, like a cool drink in a desert. More than the flash of power experienced when he first held Nador¨¬l and Amaleron sang, this taste of lifeforce sated him deeply.

    When he came to, Eltanin had stepped back. Asphales rose and looked around. He caught Ad¨¦lia¡¯s gaze. Her face was unreadable.

    ¡®How do you feel?¡¯ Eltanin asked.

    ¡®Fresh as a fish!¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®I feel¡­ good. Awake.¡¯ The rush of light was already fading but he still felt invigorated.

    ¡®Instinctively, life rebels against its end. Against decay. You drew upon the store granted to you in that moment of need, but from here, we will need to refine and train your access.¡¯

    ¡®So, what, do I look within me to keep finding that spark?¡¯

    ¡®Bah, no. All you would find is a heart corrupted by Sirius¡¯ tendrils. If starlight is a spoken word, the Dragonking is a distortion. And men are cracked mirrors. A reflection nonetheless, but now marred.¡¯

    ¡®Then, how do I draw upon starlight? Where do I focus?¡¯

    ¡®On the words. That is how you channel the vastness of starlight.¡¯

    Asphales thought back to Eltanin¡¯s mutters during the duel. ¡®Why is lifeforce concentrated into words?¡¯ he asked.

    ¡®Words unleash potential. We speak to declare what is, but also to create what will be. When one speaks, it is at once an affirmation but also creation. At world¡¯s birth, Regulus and Carinae spoke and sung things into being. Their love for one another was expressed in creative words.¡¯

    ¡®But words can also destroy.¡¯

    ¡®Yes. They can shift, deceive, and break things down. This is precisely what Sirius did. Words can change for the worse.¡¯

    ¡®Change?¡¯

    ¡®Indeed.¡¯ Eltanin looked grave. ¡®The Shadow feeds malice into the flow, corrupting and diverting its intent. Other times it is a blockage, a barrier to what ought to be. Corrupted starlight can change the form of those given to it, and it can stunt the circulation and growth of one¡¯s course.¡¯

    Asphales looked back, towards the cavern¡¯s mouth and out into the distance. The sparring lesson had continued into the late hours of the afternoon. Rays from the lowering sun pierced into the mountain¡¯s opening. The dwindling light hit upon something that should not have been. Suspended in the air, the Sundered was there, and Asphales understood. The flow of the world¡¯s lifeforce was wrong somehow, casting land into the sky, creating cavities in the ocean, twisting rock and forest out of shape.

    He turned back and looked to his sword. He ran his eyes over the blade¡¯s length, over the intricately carved words. His father¡¯s memory and strength, passed to him. The hope and song of the Ten who would not stand by as the world fell, passed to him and Ad¨¦lia. More than before, the immensity of what was to come hung heavy over him.

    ¡®Can everyone do this?¡¯ he asked.

    ¡®To a small extent, yes. All people are endowed with Regulus¡¯ starlight. When they are overcome by strong emotions, when love, courage, or rage is employed, men will naturally imbue their starlight into their strikes. But as Elderchildren, you are capable of far more.¡¯

    ¡®I think I understand. We are all vessels. Some simply hold more.¡¯

    ¡®And there is yet more you could hold, Asphales. Once the song is sung, you and Lady Catena shall be amply filled and overflowing. But you shall certainly not be alone in this task. Every vessel is valuable.¡¯

    ¡®I am glad for that,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said, stepping over. Her armour gleamed in the afternoon light. Clad in fierce steel, she seemed ready. He wondered whether he would ever match her skill and determination.

    Eltanin straightened up and raised his sword. ¡®Now, before the day is ended, let us begin proper. The prelude is completed. From here, we enter uncharted territory.¡¯

    Asphales readied his own weapon. Ad¨¦lia put a foot back and stiffened the grip on her spear. Her sidearm, a silver shortsword with swirled hilt, was in hand also.

    Eltanin spoke. ¡®Astera psallo,¡¯ he intoned. His weapon blazed to life. ¡®I want to see you both try this. I want to test your current limits of imbuement. Focus on your connection to the blade. Speak the words. And imagine yourself entering the flow which connects your lifeforce to the world.¡¯

    Asphales gripped Nador¨¬l with both hands and brought the weapon up close to his face. He looked to the metal, to the characters written along the blade. He focused beyond it, trying to recall the place he¡¯d been drawn in at the moment of his awakening. The words were forming in his mind and on his tongue.

    Then there was a sickening fizzle. A smell like smoke. But it did not come from Asphales.

    Ad¨¦lia was shaking. Black, clotted clouds hung low around her feet and dark wisps were licking at her spear. Then her look of concentration broke. Her eyes rolled back and she toppled over and collapsed to the pavement. The Amarant¡¯s spear fell with an echoing clatter.

    ¡®Ad¨¦lia!¡¯ screamed Asphales. He rushed to her side. Ad¨¦lia¡¯s head lolled. Hair of brilliant red splayed on the plateau.

    Eltanin stood aghast. ¡®Ulm¨¬r, how far does your shadow fall?¡¯

    * * *

    If daytime was ugly in Sanaros, the night was hideous. Whatever decorum the chaos of the island had by sunlight, it was snuffed out when darkness took over.

    Sanah skulked on the rooftop of a hut near the Hunched Dragon. She watched the drunkards come out by torchlight. The dull ache in Sanah¡¯s heart told her that not everyone she could see would live out the night. Somewhere nearby, screams rose and mixed, horror and elation intertwined.

    She lowered to a crawl along the thatched roof. She kept her breath close, and Riala closer. She was glad for the sword¡¯s comfort. Without it, she would close her eyes and remember only the emptiness. Empty pockets, empty stomach. The empty joy when the screaming in the night had not been her own.

    Nearer to the roof¡¯s edge, Sanah spied the courtyard of the tavern. A single torch lit the store-barrels and weathered tables of the vacant yard. Soon, the last of the patrons cleared off the front of the building also. Doors and windows were shut. Silence fell with the rising of the moon.

    As the chill settled, the distant warmth of Nathariel¡¯s embrace grew more distant still.

    Moments later, Sanah spotted her quarry. A door clicked open in the tavern courtyard and a hulking shadow moved across. Gil was carrying trays of scrap. There was nothing suspicious about his movements.

    The coffee-maker, an informant? Or perhaps something more? She could not dismiss the possibility. The name of Shurun¡¯el¡¯s Lord did not bear the most gracious reputation.

    Sanah feared failing hers as well.

    So, she approached. Lifting herself to a crouch, she stepped to the edge of the roof. Sanah dropped lithely to the pavement and crossed the darkened alley to the tavern¡¯s back gate. Lifting the latch, she stepped into the torchlit grounds. Gil was still there, working discreetly at the waste barrels. The same serene and bulky motions.

    ¡®Perhaps you¡¯d speak more carefully,¡¯ Sanah said, ¡®if you knew whom you referred to today.¡¯

    Gil did not startle. He did not turn.

    Sanah took a step forward. ¡®Are you dull? If half of what you said to the tavern is true, every fool within leagues of this place will leak the information. Perhaps you should stick to serving drinks.¡¯

    Gil spun. His eyes were fierce, focused. This was no dim-witted brewer, but a fighter.

    ¡®The coffee here is terrible,¡¯ he said. There was no slur in his speech. He drew a crude axe from the nearby stacks of firewood.

    Sanah fought the dryness in her throat and steadied herself.

    Shield at the ready. Sword leaped to action.

    Gil stepped forward, crossing the space between them in a blink, and brought the axe down with his mountainous arm. Sanah¡¯?l evaded to the side as the weapon cracked cobblestone. Before she could respond, Gil heaved and crashed into her with his shoulder.

    Sanah¡¯?l fell backwards in a heap. She righted herself. Gil had already recovered and was swinging the axe toward her. Combat rush and instinct made Sanah¡¯?l bring up her shield a split second before the axe connected.

    The crunch deafened her momentarily. As weapon scraped shield, Sanah¡¯?l was forced back. She stumbled and collapsed through the courtyard¡¯s gate. She rolled into position and sprung with her blade ready. She glanced up. Gil had not moved after his attack.

    Sanah¡¯?l took this moment to breathe, to groan. Shoulders and legs ached. She vaguely felt blood. This was no mere brawler, but a trained warrior. Could she have been so foolish? She took off her cloak and tossed it aside. The bloodrush fought the night¡¯s chill.

    Her thoughts were interrupted as Gil stepped forward again. This time Sanah¡¯?l was prepared, unrestrained by her attire. The bulky figured moved into the dark of the alley and swung again. Sanah¡¯?l brought up her shield and deflected it. Anticipating a kick, Sanah¡¯?l¡¯s eyes flicked down. Her shield followed when she noticed Gil shift. The metal struck the man¡¯s shin. As Gil winced, Sanah¡¯?l attention returned to the axe. She swiped with her sword and caught the axehead. She twisted and then struck at the man¡¯s wrist; not enough to draw blood but sufficient to knock the weapon out of Gil¡¯s weakened hand.

    The warrior grunted and grabbed hold of Sanah¡¯?l with both hands. With the man¡¯s size bearing down on her, she could not reach to do any further damage. Gil shoved her into the alley¡¯s wooden fence. Sanah¡¯?l ducked and spun as Gil struck with his fist, breaking boards.

    Twisting fully out of the man¡¯s grip, Sanah¡¯?l drew back a few paces and caught her breath. The muscles in her back burned and her arms complained, desiring release from the weight of her weapons.

    Gil turned and cracked his knuckles, raring to go again.

    ¡®That¡¯s enough, Guldar,¡¯ someone called from the alley.

    The voice brought Sanah up short. Recognition did not fully settle in until the figure stepped from the shadow. Unveiled, Sanah could fully see Lena¡¯s dark hair and bright eyes. The woman walked out with the confidence of a soldier. Soon after, two more came forward as well. The other woman, who Sanah could now see was similarly young, stood by, her streaked hair visible in the alley¡¯s dim light and sporting a mace.

    And the old man, appearing out of the dark with soft laughter.

    Fear and folly overcame Sanah as the truth dawned. She had played into the Empire¡¯s trap.

    ¡®We did not expect our bait to catch so quickly,¡¯ the old man said.

    ¡®Quickly, hah. You try being holed up in that space with those cretins for days,¡¯ the man called Guldar said.

    ¡®Nonetheless, what a catch we have here,¡¯ said Lena.

    ¡®Who are you?¡¯ the other woman asked. ¡®A sympathiser? An associate? A full member?¡¯

    ¡®How like the Empire to act shadily,¡¯ Sanah retorted. ¡®To accuse, to take things by force. I eagerly await the downfall of all that you have built on lies and deception.¡¯

    ¡®My dear,¡¯ the old man began, ¡®we can debate politics endlessly. Right now, we are not taking anything. We simply ask. Will you help us?¡¯

    Sanah did not answer. She struggled to keep all four assailants in view. Guldar bent down to collect the axe he had held earlier. Though none of them threatened to attack yet, she scoured her mind for strategies. She tried to visualise exits.

    Sanah felt helpless. She fought back other images. Cornered. Destitute. Weak. No, that was long ago. That was not her. She would face her captors and fall with pride.

    ¡®Please, that is all we ask,¡¯ the other woman said. ¡®What is the Dragon¡¯s Eye? Others speak of preparation there. What will happen?¡¯

    ¡®You have a funny way of asking,¡¯ Sanah said. ¡®Weapons in hand, faces half-hidden in the dark. No, I will not help you.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s a shame,¡¯ Lena said.

    The dark-haired woman went to take a step forward, but was halted by the old man¡¯s upraised hand.

    ¡®Wait, listen,¡¯ he said.

    A sudden storm of voices and footsteps arose from a nearby alley. Torchlight flashed and splayed the elongated shapes of men on decrepit walls.

    Then the troupe arrived. Fur-lined coats. Sharp faces. Six able-bodied and well-armed mercenaries encroached on the scuffle between Sanah¡¯?l and the Empire¡¯s representatives. The Kerenani were not those Sanah wished to meet in the dark under normal circumstances. But now, these were no ordinary circumstances, so she welcomed their intrusion.

    ¡®Ho, look here. Krahat from the mainland!¡¯ one of them called out.

    The old man, Guldar, Lena, and the other woman all turned their attention to the new arrivals.

    ¡®I told you they were here,¡¯ a shorter main said. He pointed a finger at Guldar. ¡®He was there with Darius when ¡®e chucked me in th¡¯ sea.¡¯

    ¡®Empire scum!¡¯ another mercenary said as he stepped forward. ¡®Are you friends of Darius?¡¯

    ¡®What of Darius?¡¯ the old man said, his hands up in a placating gesture.

    ¡®Highlord Cerus has a claim on his life, because Darius did not have the good sense to perish all those years ago.¡¯

    ¡®My friend, we do not know the details but we have no quarrel with the Kerenani.¡¯

    ¡®That may be so, but you are the next best thing for us to quash.¡¯

    The shorter man came forward again, giggling. ¡®Your women will become prizes,¡¯ he said as he leered. ¡®Your men will be trophies.¡¯

    The mercenaries laughed and whooped. Sword scraped against sword. Then the short man¡¯s laughter cut short and he fell to the ground gurgling. A knife was lodged in his chest.

    The mercenaries stopped cheering and stared at Lena, twenty paces away, her arm still outstretched from the throw.

    ¡®What are you doing, Leara?¡¯ the old man snapped.

    ¡®What Darius should¡¯ve done the first time,¡¯ she said.

    At that, the Kerenani engaged the group with a shout. Weapons raised, they rushed in. Guldar headed to the front and occupied himself with two mercenaries. The others each took one.

    Sanah did not care to know the details. She was glad for the distraction. The Kerenan dissatisfaction was proof enough that the Empire had trod on too many toes.

    She took her chance and snuck into shadow. She left the sounds of struggle and suffering behind her. Just another midnight brawl in Sanaros.

    Sanah ran and ran. What transpired here would need to be reported. She would need to stay and find out the extent of the Empire¡¯s knowledge. And she needed to see Nathariel again. But for now, she ran.

    The dark mazes and unsavoury byways of the island were known to her. Better than a sailor on the sea, she could navigate the secret holes and passages, the hopeless streets in which hopeful men and women lost their way. Sanah retreated, disappearing into the black, black heart of Sanaros.

    * * *

    It had been a day of learning. A day of learning what it meant to be a child of starlight. A day when hope lit up the prospects of the cohort at Taeladran. And a day of learning that the Shadow¡¯s grip on that hope was tighter than imagined.

    Asphales walked now, solemn and spent, around the outskirts of Taeladran as night fell on the luminous city. After Ad¨¦lia had awoken¡ªand Asphales was indescribably glad she did¡ªshe had separated from the rest and disappeared. Eltanin dismissed the group and glumly they returned to their lodgings.

    Asphales did not want to be there now. He did not feel like fielding questions from the others, particularly as he did not fully understand what had transpired. Eltanin had mentioned the world¡¯s sickness. Had a similar ailment been inflicted on Ad¨¦lia? He had pieced together that something affected her, from the brokenness he¡¯d noticed in her eyes, from the solitude she preferred in the forest, from the blackness he glimpsed which seemed to haunt so gentle and precious a soul.

    With these darkened thoughts in mind, Asphales plodded on, ignoring the designated walkways and following the sound of water. Above him, the crescent moon hid behind a cloudy veil like a shy dancer at the end of her routine. The sounds of the city died away behind him.

    He clambered on through rocky crevices and sloping stones until he came to a clearing. In the gully by Taeladran¡¯s gem-encrusted bluffs, flowers grew. Blue and red and full of life, they dotted the dried out hollow. A torpid stream murmured nearby, running somewhere below the cliffs.

    Someone here was singing. The melody was slow and sad like the final embers of a fire. Asphales took a step onto the budding grass and the singing stopped.

    Ad¨¦lia sat by a stone, face away and up toward the sky. She did not stir, but Asphales knew she had noticed him enter. She had taken off her mail and plate and now donned a simple blouse the colour of night.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ he said. ¡®I can leave if you wish to be alone.¡¯

    ¡®No, I appreciate the company,¡¯ she said.

    Asphales stepped nearer, his blundering feet disturbing fireflies settled over the myriad petals. Hundreds of glowing orbs flitted around the clearing. And more dazzling than all, the shining sapphire stones of Taeladran came to life under moonlight.

    Ad¨¦lia stood up as Asphales approached her, still gazing upwards. Under the cover of infinite stars they stood, and did not speak immediately.

    ¡®If more people looked up,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia mused eventually, ¡®perhaps the world would not be so¡­¡¯

    ¡®Down?¡¯ Asphales offered.

    Ad¨¦lia looked at him. In the light-soaked scene, her hair was an intense vermilion. Her face bright, despite the tint of sadness. She smiled.

    ¡®The stars are comforting,¡¯ Asphales went on. ¡®They¡¯re a reminder that we are still guided, and that our strength has a source outside of ourselves. Before today, I had not quite understood that.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, someone dear to me told me something similar, long ago.¡¯

    The light around them dimmed once more, leaving nothing behind but the soft glow of Taeladran¡¯s jewels and the quiet symphony of the chirping fireflies. Asphales sensed that he was not to pry, but he wondered. He felt closer to Ad¨¦lia after discovering their part in the world. Was this a time for questions, now that their orbits had so entwined?

    ¡®Ad¨¦lia,¡¯ he began, ¡®I am exceedingly relieved to see you¡¯re alright. You gave us all a scare.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry, Asphales. I apologise for running off like that.¡¯ She bit her lip. ¡®I was¡­ frightened.¡¯

    Asphales blinked and faced her. ¡®What is an Amarant afraid of?¡¯

    ¡®I fear the wrongness in me. You saw it today. My weakness. How are we meant to face this darkness when all we hold to is hope and splintered light?¡¯ Her voice was on the edge of breaking, like glass bearing too much weight.

    ¡®Ad¨¦lia, I am scared as well. I have dreams¡­ of veils and endless water, of streaks of light scattering in the dark. I see the Shadow. And I see him. He knows and desperately wants us to fall, to stop, to give up.

    ¡®But it¡¯s as you said earlier, we are not alone. Our bonds are valuable. We face this together. All of us. And we need you, Ad¨¦lia. You¡¯re a blossoming flower. Don¡¯t hide that among trees.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia flinched and for a moment, Asphales felt foolish.

    ¡®You have a kind heart, Asphales. But I am always reminded of this. Behind your eyes there is the sea¡­ and I am terrified.¡¯

    In a flash of remembrance, Asphales recalled his first meeting with Ad¨¦lia, in Gohenur. The Amarant had alluded to an attack by pirates on her home. In that fragile moment, she had cupped her sorrow and loss and held it out to him. With dread, Asphales braved a question. ¡®Why can¡¯t you channel your starlight?¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia was silent for a while. The night filled in her reticence.

    ¡®I¡¯ve left so many things unspoken,¡¯ she said. Her voice was barely audible, a leaf fallen in the forest.

    ¡®Don¡¯t rush, if you¡¯re not ready.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia took a deep breath. ¡®No. You deserve to know all that I am, since so much relies on us.¡¯ She faced him. There were unfathomable depths within her emerald eyes.

 Chapter Twenty - This Scarlet Song

    Gohenur protects Luneder like a watchful guardian.

    I believed my father. It did not protect my home that day. But perhaps it would protect me, so in the forest I hid myself away. I wrapped that shattered promise around me and clung to it.

    I would rather not spend any longer than I need to dwelling on those early years in the forest. Days spent wandering, lost. Nights wasted in tears. The trees and the moon were my only comfort and company.

    The emptiness clawed at me. I howled and hated and, after a long time, healed. My heart was a shrivelled scar, barely mended but just enough to go on. I accepted that they were gone. That everything I knew was gone. That even something within me was no longer there.

    Eventually, you learn that nothing is quite as heavy as nothingness.

    My father taught me to appreciate the nature of things. To pay attention to the stirring of each leaf and the startling of every petal. I learned to consider the starlight and life that flows within each. But on that day of fire, it all fell apart as I saw everything around me and within me come to nothing. Perhaps knowing how each piece is connected to the whole made the pain all the worse, like eyes that had never beheld true light suddenly thrust into the sun.

    My father¡¯s spear never again gave light. But his lessons continued to sustain me. It was all I could do to keep from seeing red and black each time I closed my eyes. To keep my sleep from being haunted by that monstrous face.

    I focused on the life around me in Gohenur. I learned new things as the creatures of the forest became known to me. Something of the sorrow I felt faded as my childhood passion for the living things of Gohenur took over.

    But I suppose this chapter of my life really begins with the building of a dwelling place. My home, my humble cottage sequestered among trees. I spent my first winter dwelling in tree hollows, as deep and warm as I could nestle. By my second, I had a modest burrow, mere fallen branches tucked together by an old root and covered over with mulch and undergrowth.

    Around this time, I learned to forage for berries and other fruit. Aresa¡¯s vase came in handy to collect rainwater. Once I managed to consistently light fires, it doubled as a cookpot. Hunting became necessary to sustain myself. How thankful I am for the lives that fell so I could go on. I have never taken the ending of a life lightly, and each song cut short panged me. But some drive to survive kept me going. And so, my father¡¯s spear was steeped in blood for the first time.

    For a while, I feared forgetting those who were taken from me. But as I found myself scraping through season after season and pushing through each day, I realised. The memory had not disappeared, but merely sunk beneath the surface, like water seeping into the ground. And out of that nourishing flow, something grew. Something which would rise defiant and deny the pirate lord¡¯s prophecy.

    To do that, I needed a more permanent foothold in the forest. A structure to weather the rolling storms. Too many nights had been cold and damp. I needed to build a lasting home.

    About two years passed before I dared to venture out of Gohenur¡¯s depths and to the river. I had been collecting water from a tributary stream, mostly by night, but the Valarion is the main thoroughfare. That would give me access to travelling traders. I cannot say I had a true grasp of the world¡¯s size then, but my vague recollections of Luneder¡¯s itinerant merchants led me to believe if any would pass through Gohenur, they would do so via the river.

    And so, I came out to the river for the first time. The Valarion. Never-failing, ever-faithful. Always moving when everything else in my life had stood still. I traipsed to its banks, lighter than a ghost. I felt exposed and nearly overwhelmed, but I knew I needed to do this if were to thrive in Gohenur.

    I kept watch for several nights, unseen. Sure enough, people travelled through and I caught glimpses of a group about once every tide or so. I had not the courage to engage the first few travellers and I retreated to the forest¡¯s heart. But rising necessity forced me back out. I left small signals of my presence¡ªmarks in the trees and what few items I could spare¡ªto begin my approach.

    At first, I was at a loss for how I would purchase what I needed. I did not quite understand the flow of coin, but I remembered enough of my time among Luneder¡¯s markets to know that people appreciated items of value. And what did I have around me if not the richness of Gohenur itself?

    My first encounter was with a family of traders. Their carriage stopped by an old maple tree where I had left a scratched-out marking in the trunk and a bundle of chrysanthemums. The man who hopped out had a kindly look, a weathered face and portly figure. The bark-coloured hat atop his head looked older than he did.

    I chose that moment to swallow my fear and emerged from the foliage I had been hiding behind. The merchant noticed me. He stepped back and motioned toward the carriage. His other hand flexed toward the scabbard at his side. The reaction was familiar, a paternal instinct I had seen somewhere before but could only dimly recall.

    ¡®Hello there,¡¯ the merchant said. ¡®Can we help you?¡¯ It took a while for his words to register. It had been a long time since I last heard human speech.

    ¡®What¡¯s going on out there?¡¯ A woman¡¯s voice. Calling out from the carriage. She peeked out and her eyes fell on me. ¡®Oh, blessed Regulus!¡¯ she cried. She rushed out to stand beside her husband. She had long, flowing hair of a washed-out colour like oak. As she spoke, she wiped her hands on an apron which had seen considerable use.

    The man relaxed and put an arm around his wife. The woman looked around, seemingly in panic. ¡®Who is she? You don¡¯t think it¡¯s bandits?¡¯

    The merchant cut in and said, ¡®No. I don¡¯t know who this girl is but I think she wants to trade.¡¯ That seemed to placate the woman. The merchant pointed to the markings I had left in the tree. ¡®Was this you?¡¯ he asked.

    I nodded.

    ¡®The mark of an old mercantile contract. So, you must be from a trading town around here?¡¯

    I did not answer.

    ¡®Don¡¯t be daft,¡¯ the man¡¯s wife chided. ¡®Look at the poor thing! She¡¯s all skin and bones, unkempt, and weary. She probably doesn¡¯t have a home. Oh, Regulus, you don¡¯t think she¡¯s from¡­¡¯

    Whatever the woman was thinking, she did not finish saying it. I wondered how I must have appeared to them, a wildling child bartering with a strange collection of tokens from the forest. Ridiculous and desperate. But they were gracious.

    ¡®Well, come on, then,¡¯ the man said. ¡®Show us what you¡¯ve got.¡¯

    I shuffled forward at the invitation. The woman took my hand and led me to their carriage. I nearly resisted. It felt so sudden and the woman¡¯s touch was warm and unnerving, reminding me of something I could no longer have. But I relented, and she took me around to where their possessions were held.

    ¡®Why have we stopped, ma?¡¯ a young girl called out.

    ¡®We have a guest, Dina. Let¡¯s put on a brunch,¡¯ the woman said.

    The merchants¡¯ daughter¡ªsomewhat younger than myself¡ªeyed me curiously and smiled. She was wearing a spring-coloured dress splashed with lively flowers and butterflies. It was the loveliest thing I had ever seen and I thought darkly of my own ragged and stained robes.

    Mother and daughter began preparing a meal while the father showed me their wares out of a handsome leather chest. He brought out weapons and tools of all kinds, parchments and maps, fine silks and wools from far-off places, and even a few moonglint articles.

    I showed him what I had on offer: the spring saps I had been harvesting, collected dried resin, and a few choice herbs and flowers I had picked. The man ran over them with interest, as if in that moment they were the most valuable things he had laid eyes on.

    ¡®Hmm, yes, we can use this to make syrup and oils,¡¯ he mused to himself. ¡®And these would be lovely for my Dina.¡¯

    With more gestures than words, we traded. The man accepted the forest¡¯s bounty of sap, resin, and plant. I acquired a hunting dagger, a carving knife, and a map of Western Anardes. The merchant even threw in a tinderbox in our deal.

    Afterwards, the woman insisted I stay for a meal. I dined with that family there, in the carriage nestled beneath Gohenur¡¯s maple boughs. Even the smell of that family¡¯s cooking made me realise I could not remember a time I had been truly full. But the food they gave me filled out this hollow shell. Slowly, I regained semblance of my former energy.

    I did not speak much, but they told me of their travels and their home. They spoke of the happenings in the world, and they even mentioned the disaster which had befallen Luneder. I did not give any indication that it was anything but a point on a map to me. I did not even give them my name.

    As we finished eating, the family presented me a gift. The woman unwrapped a bundled dress. It was a gorgeous thing, arrayed with summer greens and sun-bright yellows. Dina handed me a fine wooden comb as well. I had not the time to think of beauty or preening in Gohenur, but this reminded me I was becoming a lady. How I wished my mother could have seen me grow up.

    Then a question came like a crack of ice in a winter-river.

    ¡®We¡¯re on our way to Guladran. Would you like to come with us?¡¯

    I quailed at those words. Seeing the family there together, I felt a jolt of pain. I treasured their hospitality and their gift, and I would go on to wear that dress ¡®til it was frayed and frail. But I could not accept this. Some darkness within me screamed and warned my heart to retreat.

    I rose, took my traded belongings, and left the carriage without looking back. I dashed back into the labyrinth of trees. Leave the forest? No, I could not abandon its protection and expose myself so.

    Over time, I continued trading with passers-by, but I had to learn to distinguish between merchant and mercenary. For not all company in the woods was kind. Some would pass through with nefarious intent, seeking to harm others or my forest. I would fend them off as best as I could. There was no military tact to my assault ¨C mere forest savagery. I laid traps, struck from shadow, and held off against bandits with my father¡¯s spear.

    My other endeavours were not so belligerent. I took up my father¡¯s craft and carved small wooden trinkets. Rough at first, hardly worth trading, but I improved. I fashioned small mementos of the forest¡¯s life and so had more of a repertoire to present to travellers. I also brewed herbal remedies and poultices. With these, I bartered for planks of timber, panes of glass, and other wooden instalments, as well as smaller necessities like linens and clothes.

    Slowly, I gathered enough materials to build something for myself. I chose a spot in a clearing deep in Gohenur where I had been tending to flower-beds. There, I erected a cottage. While it was not quite the cabin you know¡ªthat would come later¡ªit was home. Ramshackle, rickety, and not quite right, I still looked on it with pride. Gohenur festooned the hut in an embrace of branches from nearby trees, so I took that as approval.

    Inside, I settled Aresa¡¯s vase on the mantel and filled it with new flowers. It felt as if a tension long held had finally given way, like a chord resolved. The vase was in its proper place again, purposeful and full of the hope that I could be set right too.

    When I came out, the smiling sunlight filtered through trees and garden. It settled on my skin, my hair, my dirt-scuffed dress. I knew that day this would be my life now. Looking back, I can tell it was that imperceptible passing milestone when you can almost believe that a matter had always been this way.

    As I stood among my flowers, a song escaped my lips before I knew its full shape. The words were my own and will remain so. The garden¡¯s colours became mine. The light and life of the forest belonged to me, and I to it. There I could have remained.

    Five long courses of the sun passed.

    At sixteen, I was discovered. I remember the day well. It was autumn. The sky was the colour of an old parchment. The entire forest felt a change as a bizarre wind tussled trees the wrong way with a tune I had not heard before.

    I was out drawing water. Sounds were carried on the breeze. Rough voices. The stamping of horses. I did not know these signals would herald a new chapter of my life. The gentle pattern I had settled into was disturbed when the Empire found me and I uncovered more about who I am.

    At the time, I had not realised this, of course. All I knew is that intruders had tread upon my forest. My instincts were to protect and defend. So, I grabbed my father¡¯s spear, hauled on what little protective gear I had acquired from merchants¡ªa simple leather cuirass and greaves¡ªand met the assailants.

    It was a curious cohort which appraised me as I confronted them, attempting to look as ferocious as possible. I had never seen the Empire¡¯s soldiers before, and though they seemed hostile at the time, how treasured and familiar these faces would become.

    At their head, an imposing flaxen-haired warrior sat astride an even more imposing midnight-black stallion. Amarant Darius was there, donning his usual furs and furrowed brows. Beside him, on a fair horse, rode a fair-haired man. Though he appeared much milder than the warrior next to him, he still bore authority and even the contours of his face seemed given to discipline. Dear Ishak was younger then, his facial hair the colour of mountains untouched by snow.

    And at their rear, riding a golden steed, was the most impressive and powerful woman I have ever known. In her twinkling plate mail, she emanated authority. The pale autumn light fell on perfectly cropped sun-blonde hair, and she regarded me with cool eyes of deep and living blue. She hoisted a long, silver spear on which was proudly hung a banner of the Anarda?an lion. It was like seeing the legendary Lady Vildia in the flesh.

    Her name was Ro?thia, Amarant of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s infantry.

    I felt small under their gazes. It was the woman who spoke first.

    ¡®Two Amarants and a maneling for a little girl. What is the meaning of this, Amaleron?¡¯

    I did not know whom she was speaking to at first, for she gazed back at something I did not initially notice when I stumbled onto the Empire¡¯s entourage. Behind the group was a golden, gilded carriage which, in my stories, always carried princes. But it was no dainty prince who stepped out.

    Amaleron stepped forward at Ro?thia¡¯s beckoning. To my eyes, he looked like someone who had always been old. He moved slowly and carefully, as if his feet would soon sprout roots and he would turn into a tree. He came to the front of the group, hobbling along on a staff, and his eyes found me. He did not say anything for a while.

    ¡®Is this what we¡¯re after?¡¯ Darius asked. Ro?thia grumbled something with disapproval.

    Amaleron raised his hand to placate the growing discontent among the three warriors. To my surprise, despite his apparently perpetual state of eldership, Amaleron was in charge.

    ¡®We have heard reports of a trader of marvels here in Gohenur,¡¯ he spoke up. ¡®Who are you?¡¯

    I was hesitant to answer.

    ¡®I suppose it is only kind to begin with my own name,¡¯ the old man said. ¡®I am Amaleron, steward of Anardes.¡¯ He also introduced the rest of the emissaries. There was something in Amaleron¡¯s ancient eyes, some bright and vivid energy, which was very familiar and comforting. His amicable mannerisms reminded me of my father, and I suppose that is no surprise to me now.

    When he completed introductions, Amaleron asked, ¡®What is your name?¡¯

    I spoke.

    ¡®Ad¨¦lia Amal¡¯ethar, daughter of Menkalinan and Cassia.¡¯ It felt strange to be speaking again. Somewhat cumbersome to be giving my name.

    The old man looked troubled. He trembled. I did not know then the simple speaking of my name would so reverberate. I felt almost weakened, as if revealing my name had exposed some raw and fragile part of me.

    Amaleron leaned harder on his staff, deep in thought. I noticed then that the gem on the steward¡¯s staff bore a likeness to that embedded in my father¡¯s spear. Only, Amaleron¡¯s gem was still alive with light within.

    When the steward spoke again, there was great gravity in his tone, though I suppose that is natural for someone bearing as much responsibility as he does.

    ¡®Ad¨¦lia, I knew your father,¡¯ the steward said. ¡®I knew him in ages past, when he lived simply as Merenor the woodcarver. I was beside him when he shone as Menkalinan the Unfading. And I was deeply grieved by his passing and the darkening of his star. In truth, I am Antares and I, too, am of the Nodir¨¬m.

    ¡®I am sure that your father and mother raised you to know the story of Ulm¨¬r and the fall of the Dragonking. What happened to Luneder and to your family is merely a prologue to what will be unleashed if the Dragonking returns in power. I, along with the remnants of the Empire, are attempting to hold fast hope for this world.

    ¡®Ad¨¦lia, you have suffered much and seen more than someone your age rightfully should. But it seems that you have a part in this, one that I did not foresee. This will require a great deal of trust, but would you be willing to come with us?¡¯

    That question again. That invitation. Amaleron¡¯s words about my father did not astonish me. I had known who he was and always beheld him with wonder and pride for it. I had known about myself also, and did not hold others in contempt for not sharing my status. My parents taught me to keep my nature secret and comport myself with humility. But I could not have guessed what being the child of an Elder would entail.

    And in that moment, I did not want it.

    Some part of me was sick with the pleasure that I only had a single target. Accepting the steward¡¯s words meant opening myself up to something far larger.

    ¡®Get out,¡¯ I said, low and angry. ¡®Get out of my forest.¡¯

    The steward looked at me, at a loss for words. The others frowned. ¡®What did you say?¡¯ Ro?thia growled.

    ¡®I do not want this.¡¯ I raised my voice, scratchy and unused as it was. ¡®I do not believe you! I do not want this!¡¯

    I am ashamed of my response. In that instant, I wished Gohenur would swallow them up. I fled again, clutching to the broken memories of my parents and the rising, roiling hatred for the pirate lord. Selfish was my suffering, but to Amaleron¡¯s credit, the Empire did not pursue me immediately.

    They returned eventually, and day after day their attempts were met with stubbornness from me. It was not until a lucid moment, afforded by the nothing-thoughts of long nights, that I changed my mind. In Carinae¡¯s grace, I was afforded to see things clearly and given courage. I cannot now tell you exactly brought it about, whether a newfound awareness of my dying forest garden, or a stab of guilt over dishonouring my parents¡¯ hopes for me through selfishness. But I realised, buried somewhere in the blankness of my soul, was a love for this world, its stories, and its songs.

    ¡®I will come with you,¡¯ I told Amaleron one day. The steward¡¯s face beamed, in contrast with the exasperated look of those with him.

    And so I left Gohenur for the first time. I hopped into Amaleron¡¯s carriage and glanced back at my forest as we left along the river. It was a plaintive morning under a copper sky as I watched the passing trees and the home I knew receding from me. I may have been my father¡¯s dove, but it seemed about time I left my wistful nest.

    On the way to Fara¡¯ethar, I recounted the destruction of my hometown and the death of my parents to Amaleron. I told him of the pirate lord and his band. I spilled like a dam that had been restrained for far too long. I tried to hold back tears but they flowed, black and unbidden. Amaleron listened intently, horror-struck, as if what I was describing had happened to his own.

    After that confession, it felt like I had only then truly woken up, as if the previous years in the forest passed in slumber. The wounds felt fresh, almost as if I was still in the cleansing rain after the fall of my home and had just escaped into Gohenur. But no, the years had gotten on, I had grown, and it remained to be seen what I would do with my life from this point.

    Amaleron warned me that secrecy would still be needed going forward. ¡®You will need to craft a new name for yourself,¡¯ he averred during the ride.

    I retreated to my own thoughts. What kind of name would I spin? It needed to be right, but unyielding and opaque like a truth half-concealed in song. What my spirit poured out was a weather-beaten thing, eroded until there was naught left but the song itself.

    ¡®I shall be known as Catena.¡¯

    The steward gave me a simple, solemn nod.

    At Amaleron¡¯s encouragement, I travelled alongside Ishak as well, on horseback. As the landscape rolled from forest into plains, he told me about the region, about the castle, about the army, about his family. Darius and Ro?thia rode ahead in pointed silence.

    ¡®Don¡¯t worry about those two,¡¯ Ishak said quietly, gesturing towards them. ¡®They talk mean but they have large hearts, you¡¯ll see.¡¯

    We reached the Bay of Anardes as the setting sun cloaked all it touched in orange. No speech can do justice to the beauty of a land kissed by the sun, so our words were few then. The trees grew sparser, as did my thoughts of home. Some childlike sense of wonder rose in me, and I could almost imagine I was off on an adventure.

    Then I saw it again. It first made itself known in a salty smell. Next, I heard it as we came out into the open bay. I heard that immense, all-surrounding roar of the ocean. Then, as our course wound away from the guiding arms of the river and over the last hill, it came into view. That frothing colossus. Striving, striving against land. Raging, raging in the sunset like liquid fire. Teeming, teeming with shapeless darkness.

    I turned my eyes away from it and focused on another sight which met me with dim recognition, like blowing dust off an old book. The town of Guladran lay before our entourage. The road led into it and into the unmistakeable, chaotic signs of life. More life than I had ever seen in one place. Larger than Luneder, the districts I glimpsed ahead were full of sounds and motion: step and song and laughter, push and shove and banter. I held on to delight even as fear wound its way and threatened to constrict my wonder.

    Even the smells held my attention. The scents of Guladran were not as fresh or natural as the forest but inviting and reminiscent of things I once knew. Smells of activity; sweat, smoke, and honest work. More appetising was the wafting aroma of baked goods and spiced meats. I looked around the markets at the stalls of bakers and chefs with longing and hoped that my watering mouth was not obvious.

    But of course, eventually my gaze fell to the capstone of our Empire. You do not need me to tell you of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s stunning beauty. But it impressed me also, this unfading mark of a bygone age¡¯s glory. It has lasted like a stamp on an old envelope, still visible, still bearing authority. I saw that even things of brick and stone may be wondrous.

    Ishak caught me staring. ¡®It¡¯s wonderful, isn¡¯t it?¡¯ he said. ¡®Tell you what, after you¡¯re all settled in and Amaleron is satisfied, I¡¯ll show you around the castle.¡¯

    I told Ishak that I liked that idea very much.

    The others must have overheard, for Ro?thia slowed and hung back with us. ¡®You will not be pampered here,¡¯ she said to me. ¡®You will have to pull your weight.¡¯

    I cowered, but Ishak cut in. ¡®That should be simple enough, considering she weighs so little.¡¯ Sweet Ishak. He has always been quick in wit and slow to find fault. Ro?thia shot him a nasty look but did not engage him further.

    Ishak burst into laughter and I saw a crumpled smile appear on Ro?thia¡¯s face. Clearly, there was genuine friendship and trust between them.

    The Amarant turned back to me, her eyes on the spear resting in its holster on my back. ¡®Are you any good with that?¡¯ she asked.

    I was not sure what to say. I defended my home well enough from invaders, but my skills were scrappy, cobbled together from half-remembered lessons and necessity. I could not compare to an Amarant¡¯s training.

    When I answered, I had a sudden, clear picture of the phantom pirate in mind. ¡®Good enough to do what I did in the forest, but not yet good enough to do what I wish to.¡¯

    Ro?thia studied me silently, nodded, and then trotted away again. Ishak looked at me and raised his eyebrows. If he expected me to understand what our exchange meant, I had missed it. And it would be a while yet before I interacted with the Amarant again.

    Once we entered the castle grounds, Amaleron entrusted Ishak to show me to my lodgings. Given the hour, the steward postponed further meetings and formalities. The two Amarants went about their duties and the steward himself retreated to his quarters.

    Ishak kept to his word and gave me a tour of the castle. ¡®Amaleron seemed satisfied enough. We¡¯ll take the long route to the Hall of Residence,¡¯ he said, winking. By the last light of day, we visited the halls and courts of Fara¡¯ethar. He showed me the battlements and towers, the housing of the army¡¯s divisions, and the various training areas.

    We were traversing the castle by torchlight when we stepped into the Hall of Records. And there in the library I rediscovered magic. It had been a long time since I¡¯d seen a book or heard a story. I was parched, and I slaked my thirst for the heroic with every volume my hands and eyes could drink.

    It felt strange to be reading again, to have words form stories in my cobwebbed mind. But it also felt warm and right, like nature¡¯s awakening in spring when flowers push through winter thaw. I could have spent all night among those tomes¡ªand indeed I would return time and again¡ªbut it was late, and out of respect for both Ishak and the master of records, I reluctantly closed the books and followed my guide to the Hall of Residence.

    Once there, Ishak bade me goodnight and called over the master-servant to ensure I was given a meal before bed. I did not deserve the kindness shown me. I still do not.

    A yet more peculiar experience awaited me when I entered my new chambers. It had been unthinkable to have access to so many luxuries. Even though I had nothing in the forest, I was no beggar. I rose with the sun, slept with the moon, and basked in the forest¡¯s wealth. But what I now had felt like excess. The comfort I enjoyed at the castle was unreal, as if it were happening to someone else.

    My room even had a mirror. I saw myself for the first time after the fire. The girl looking back at me was not who I wanted to be. Gaunt, scraggy, weak. Surrounded by grandeur. So instead, I pictured the woman I wished to become. Catena. I focused hard, as if willing the image in my mind to reality.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    I do not mean to sound ungrateful, but I would have traded it all for my father¡¯s touch, my mother¡¯s kiss. I would have given it for the power to do what I desired. My first sleep at Fara¡¯ethar was filled with dreams of another time, another place.

    At seventeen, I began my time in the army. I met Amarant Ro?thia properly, and Ishak¡¯s words proved true. Her heart was wide and welcoming like the forest in summer. But she was also stern and strong, determined on her course. She seemed willing to turn me into the woman I wished to be. It would not be an easy path, but I welcomed the challenge.

    I had grown accustomed to my duties at Fara¡¯ethar over my first year there. I assisted the servants in the kitchens, the clerks in the communications department, and the record-keepers in their Hall. The tasks had given me a small measure of purpose, and I grew affectionate of the people I worked with. Even the master-servant¡¯s peculiarities and pedantic sensibilities had become endearing.

    And all the while, Amaleron filled gaps in my understanding of this land¡¯s history and developments. Childhood stories became matters of chronicle and concern.

    But the academic and domestic necessities of castle life were not enough. I wished to fight. I am grateful for my parents¡¯ example and the values they instilled. I knew the world was not quite right, and many suffered and hurt. I wanted to do my part in bringing justice and healing. No doubt the sense of awe for my father¡¯s heroic tales coloured my understanding, but I was glad for the determination such sense provided me.

    Yet the undercurrent driving me has always been the craving for strength to take on my phantom. My world, once filled with love and laughter, is now cold and quiet. I want to heap that great and terrible silence back onto him.

    I apologise if that makes me appear callous or ingenuine, but that is the immutable pattern of my heart.

    The opportunity to step into the role of soldier came after a scouting expedition turned into a skirmish. I had been helping the merchants in setting up new trade routes to a town beyond the bay and our caravan fell under attack by marauders. A frequent enough occurrence, but the dormant reflexes which came alive in that conflict reminded me of what my hands were itching to do. Perhaps there was a life in battle for me.

    My fellow merchants thought so too, it seems, for their gratitude reached the ears of the Amarant. Before I knew it, Ro?thia herself approached me. One morning, barely out of my bedsheets and the sun scarcely in the sky, there was a rap at my door. The Amarant all but barged in, full-clad and expectant. ¡®Follow me,¡¯ is all she said.

    I complied, bemused. I was led out to the barracks, outside the castle¡¯s enclosure. On the beach in the chill of the morning and the shadow of the cliff, Ro?thia thrust a spear into my hands.

    ¡®Show me,¡¯ she said.

    I was not sure what she meant. I stood there, dumfounded. So Ro?thia took the initiative. With an effortless flick and spin, her own spear now pointed at me. The Amarant¡¯s stance shifted and she threw out a few testing jabs with her weapon.

    Mild panic took over and my instincts kicked in. I parried as best as I could. But the Amarant was flowing water, blowing wind. She seemed to dance around me, easy as a child playing with a favourite toy.

    It was an embarrassing but inevitable defeat. I rasped, weary and worn out. Ro?thia stood still and undisturbed. Then she addressed me.

    ¡®You spoke truly. You are not yet good enough. But don¡¯t look crestfallen. You could be.¡¯

    I learned that Ro?thia¡¯s encouragement was to be much like the rest of her, terse and direct. But I savoured her praise, more than a thousand compliments from elsewhere.

    ¡®Congratulations, little flower. You are a soldier. We go again tomorrow.¡¯

    Before I fully processed her words, she turned heel and left the beachfront. I returned to my lodging elated and confused, but also feeling like part of me had been freed.

    Over the next while, Ishak took care of the paperwork and introduced me to the rest of the regiment. He also appealed to Amaleron to let Ro?thia¡¯s appointment stand. The steward was uncomfortable with the idea of my being in battle. I sensed that I was an anomaly¡ªa thing not quite accounted for in his mind. I did not appreciate until recently that even someone as wise as him could have been in the dark about what was really going on.

    But Ro?thia¡¯s influence and charisma, in addition to skill and judgement few questioned or denied, meant she got her way. I am sure she was delighted when Amaleron agreed. In her words, she was glad to see ¡®more damn women in the force.¡¯ For all Ro?thia¡¯s coarseness, I discovered that smile and cheerfulness came to her more naturally and often than she let on.

    Joining as a soldier also meant getting entangled in the more complex social realities of castle life. For me, making friends was challenging. Though I was agreeable enough, I found it hard to open up. Even those closest to me¡ªthe warriors who were with the steward in Gohenur¡ªdid not know as much about me as I would have liked.

    There were those who wished for more. Would-be suitors were common, but those who truly wanted to understand me less so. I treated them unfairly and kept my distance. Cold and heartless did I seem to them. But how could I even think about that sort of passion when so much about me was awry?

    I am aware of the other name they have for me, unkind but not unearned. There is something wrong with me. In me. Some void. A flow which should be there. When I look within, all I feel are echoes of echoes, derelict reflections of my passions. I hear only whispered longings drowned out by the dark. And so, my companionship was as it has been since that day of undoing: loyal but subdued, filled with the unspeakable and unexpressed.

    But what I could not feel and show, I turned into intent for battle. The remnants and impulses of the qualities I possessed were tuned to my desire to protect what light there is in the world. And so I gave it my all in training. Gave until each swing of my weapon rang true as if the steel had been a part of me.

    I admit that, more than once, I feared failing and found it hard to go on. Sometimes, all I would see in my opponents is the pirate lord, his looming profile behind their figures. So I stepped back, retreated. I am not sure what I feared more in those moments. I was afraid I would overstep and do horrible things to those I swore to protect. And my mind was numb with the fear of what I would do had I come face to face with the one who took everything.

    But while I feared being dismissed as weak, Amarant Ro?thia berated my ignorance.

    ¡®Taking a step back is not weakness,¡¯ she said. ¡®Weakness is failing to take a step at all.¡¯

    More than other words she had spoken to me, this had set some knotted cord within me loose. I felt as if I could let go of a weighty thing I needlessly carried. I nodded and returned to the training sessions. A lesson given with speech can be as valuable as one carved out with spears.

    Ro?thia showed this time and again as she halted practice and directed her words at all involved.

    ¡®Listen, all of you,¡¯ she said one morning. ¡®We don¡¯t do this because it¡¯s glorious. There is no glee in battle. We do this because it must be done. But such a task will ask a great deal of you. You will need to know yourself, better than you know your enemy. You will need to understand when to allow yourself to step back, and when it is time to trudge forward.

    ¡®I know most of you have come to this with your own aspirations. None here are a blank slate. Such business is your own, and I would be a seven-shade fool to believe that this will not colour your commitment. All I need is an affirmation that when the moment comes, all can be set aside for what needs doing. The rest will take care of itself, and time will show the worth or folly of your endeavours.¡¯

    I once told my father I wished to become a knight. Well, there I stood, ready to honour that commitment. Others may judge if that commitment is tainted by my purpose, but Amarant Ro?thia did not. She saw some fortitude in me when we first met, and she wanted to bring that out, to fashion it for the best.

    Motives are tricky things, mixed at the best of times. But a heart set on seeing others flourish is precious.

    At twenty, my world shattered and reformed itself, fragile and imperfect, for the second time. All that I had come to hold on to was tested, as fire and tragedy fell once more. The name of that testing ground was Feres.

    It began with the arrival of Tel¡¯aren, a refugee from Pleiad?. Our patrol found him on a moonless night out near the Scarred Fields. It was strange to see anyone from the East, stranger still for them not to be a simple travelling merchant. Tel¡¯aren declared himself to be an exiled warrior with urgent news for Fara¡¯ethar. Apparently, he had braved a journey through the Undorn, slipping by the guarded borders of the Eastern Nations.

    Once he was deemed to not be insane or dangerous, he was brought before the Amarants with haste. He offered information on the governance of Hyad? and Pleiad?, and the truth behind their refusal to cooperate with Anardes. He claimed that an Elder had been living in hiding in the East for decades. And he confessed that this Elder had been murdered by a deranged cult manipulating the Eastern leaders.

    Amaleron himself became involved, for he knew that if these matters truly involved an Elder, the stakes would be immense. I understand now that the steward¡¯s greatest fears were beginning to manifest as the first Elder fell with Maia¡¯s death and the Dragonking¡¯s seal weakened.

    By this point, I had become a maneling under Amarant Ro?thia. I had settled in my role, some measure of competence replacing my timidity. The name Catena had become a well-worn cover, a banner for who I was with steel in my hand and a company by my side. I could almost forget who I was beneath that cowl. Almost.

    The news about the Eastern arrival came to me as news often does: like a sudden bolt of lightning whose rumbling effects are only afterwards felt. A messenger announced the strange discovery during a routine drill. Our interest was piqued, but we could not have guessed the course of events which would unfold.

    Tel¡¯aren was given shelter, yet he preferred not to live in the castle itself. The life of an exile had made him averse to large settlements, so he dwelt with a garrison in the outpost on the outskirts of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s province. Imperial delegates would visit him, for information at first, but soon for genuine bonding as his winsome manner garnered soldierly trust.

    I saw Tel¡¯aren only briefly, for he took a great liking more to Darius and Guldar, but when I beheld him, my curiosity and wonder were kindled. His garb was odd and his weapons peculiar. He had the look of a well-travelled man, tanned and broad-shouldered. His journeyed face, patched with lines upon lines like winding roads on a map, was alert and kind despite its roughness. He stood proudly mantled in many dusty cloaks, like an evergreen tree showing off its splendour.

    But none of us were able to enjoy Tel¡¯aren¡¯s presence for long. Mere weeks after his appearance, what we believed was a squad of Eastern soldiers had taken him back by force. We arrived to a ransacked lodging and signs of struggle.

    It would not come to light for a while longer that the Order had put these things into motion. We figured that Feres, the last known location of the Elder Maia, was as good a lead as any. But in the end, it was chosen as bait for our army. It was a cursed town on the border of the Eastern Nations, a ruin prior to the battle there. Less than nothing remains now.

    Amaleron and our governing council pleaded for the East to see reason and to investigate the Order¡¯s influence. The East dismissed the claims and accused Anardes of meddling and vested interest. Worse still, the events surrounding Tel¡¯aren were twisted to appear as if Anarda?an fanatics had kidnapped an Eastern citizen to pry for sensitive intelligence.

    I was not aware of the tangled and sorrowful decisions which led to the declaration of war. But war came, hammering down on the innocent and the guilty with equal, heartless force. I could not see the larger painting, but I knew my strokes would need to be added to the canvas, and sometimes that is all the foresight we are given.

    The night before our deployment, Amarant Ro?thia treated our company to drinks and revelry in the Commons.

    ¡®This may be our last chance to be frivolous,¡¯ she said, waving her tankard around as if it were a flag announcing victory. ¡®Take this moment by its horns and enjoy yourselves. To youth! To those who dare to dream! To those who wish for a better day!¡¯

    Resounding cheers went up and drinks spilled as we raised our hands to the Amarant¡¯s toast.

    It was a night of music. A night of pure companionship and words which feed the soul. I cannot remember a time I have laughed more heartily or felt the grip of darkness so loosely. There are so many faces I never saw again, but if my memory of them remains as they were on that final night, it is a small kindness. That is how I remember her also. Resplendent smile, boundless energy, life unending.

    The previous night¡¯s cheer was fuel for the morning as we set out, leaving castle walls for perhaps the final time and onward to the unknown and uninviting.

    I do not remember much of the journey east to Feres on those dull and colourless days. We travelled along the coastline before turning north once meadows gave way to the tundra at the foot of the Undorn¡¯s southern peaks. We warned each town along the way to seek shelter, to arm themselves as best as they could, and relocate if possible. Where we could spare it, companies were posted to defend key routes and locations.

    Once we neared Feres, our divisions split up to approach the area from multiple angles, in keeping with our objectives. The bulk of the manes remained in safehouses along the coast. Darius¡¯ team was to ascertain Tel¡¯aren¡¯s location and attempt negotiation or rescue. Ro?thia¡¯s squad aimed to uncover more information about the Elder Maia and confirm Tel¡¯aren¡¯s report. Other platoons spread out to map the enemy¡¯s supply lines, while others hung back to act as reinforcements or send signals back to the main force.

    We used messenger eagles to coordinate our movements and report to one another, for we soon discovered that Feres could not be ably tracked by one team alone. It was not a single city¡ªor the skeleton of one¡ªbut a complex of ruins spread across several hectares of cold and rocky platforms. What structures once stood in Feres had collapsed to uneven sections of ground, buried beneath a blanket of dust and peppered with snow. Only a few were still perched along the cliffs like stubborn concrete sheets.

    The first couple of days yielded nothing among the gnarled trees and twisted stones. In fact, Feres had not looked like much of a habitation at all, and we wondered whether we would find any sign of life. But we were wary, as the layout of the locale offered many hidden vantage points, plenty of cover, and protrusions perfect for ambushes. Even from our makeshift camp in the shadow of an overlooking platform, we perked up at each sound; the tumbling of a rock, the screech of a mountain goat.

    The cold was the worst of our enemies at first. We felt the chill in our fingers, and our arms resisted every effort to command our weapons. Besides that, we had received messages that skirmishes had broken out to the north-west, near Taeladran. Fighting ensued further north as well, and we could not tell if the East was merely hassling us on multiple fronts or planning a full invasion. Certainly, the imposing terrain and uncomfortable temperatures seemed tranquil compared to what we heard was happening further afield.

    But the company was warm while we took shifts to patrol the desolation. I was part of a small band comprised of Ro?thia, Ishak, El¡¯enur our dear archer, and a few other soldiers: Baldran, Kel, Son?lle. I realise their names may not mean much to you, but the fallen are as important to me as those who lived on. Their quirks and jests kept the pallid greyness at bay while we sifted those ruins for clues.

    The relative calm did not last long. A simple exfiltration turned into a rescue attempt. The rescue turned into a ravaging ordeal. Eventually, we caught hints of movements on the upper terraces of the ruins. Some of the other divisions reported their scouts disappearing. Then one night, it all came loose, like a spinning top tottering to a halt. Darius¡¯ company met an injured Tel¡¯aren, who had escaped from his captors in Feres¡¯ holding cells. We heard the cry. In our haste to catch up with them, scrambling over boulders and cliffside ramps, Son?lle tripped over a concealed wire. This triggered a contraption which set off a landslide. Kel rushed in and pulled her out of the way but could not save himself in time.

    This would be the first of my heartbreaks at Feres, and not the last reminder that, with all my strength, I could not protect all those I cared for.

    That mechanism seemed to do more than loosen a volley of stones. It acted as a signal and soon, enemies were upon us. They had been biding their time, waiting to trap as many as possible in the rocky entanglement of Feres. Scores of Eastern warriors poured out from the passageways around us, forcing us to engage or retreat and call for aid.

    With our companies cut off from each other by the landslide, we thought it best to turn back and fight our way to a more secure and defendable position. We ran, ducking scimitar strikes and whistling arrows, retracing steps to the campsite. Baldran remained behind to win us some time. I do not know how long he lasted, but I have never stopped being thankful for his sacrifice, for it afforded us the chance to recover and send a message to our reinforcements. Soon, we were backed up by our own platoon of archers, suppressing enemy fire with their own rounds in a draining battle of attrition.

    That first night of blood in Feres was the first of many. Weeks of protracted battles in enemy territory carried on, taking lives and resources with them. Eastern forces continued to issue from the mountain in endless supply and our routes were shrinking. While steel rained from the sky, our small bands engaged the enemy in the trenches and gullies. We trod the mud and icy slush as we held off in difficult terrain. The eyes of my companions around me were glassy and glazed over, not merely from debilitating cold and fatigue, but from the numbness of the heart that settles into all those who take life for a living. We lost count of bodies and names which perished under those grey, grey skies.

    I could tell Ro?thia did not enjoy the killing, terrifying though she was with weapon in hand. When faced with a single opponent, she would often give them a chance, request their name, and ask if they wished to return home. Many took her offer. Those who betrayed her trust and sought to strike her down while her back was turned were quickly picked off by El¡¯enur.

    There is no glee in battle, she had said. We do this because it must be done. She lived those words. Lived them out to her final breath.

    On some uncounted morning, we woke up from unnatural warmth but could not see the sun. No cloud or heavenly body marked our way anymore, for the sky was filled with fire and smoke. We found out that Feres held yet more in store. One of our scouts had returned with a report of the source of our troubles: the ruins of Feres were fed by a network of tunnels leading into the mountains themselves. The Eastern supply lines were being bolstered by this subterranean cantonment.

    Worse still, these caverns hid a factory of siege engines. An array of stonelaunchers and fireflingers rarely seen in operation had begun demolishing our encampments. We felt a rumble in the earth, a hum which permeated our very selves, as structures¡ªboth natural and manmade¡ªcame undone.

    Suddenly our strategies had to be made, unmade, and remade with reckless speed as the very landscape changed before the mobile fortresses facing us. Siege towers and battering rams toppled hulking stones over our camps. The upturned, broken chunks of earth were all the gravestone many received.

    The earth burned. There was no sky. Dust and smoke flung up by the unearthed debris covered our company as we fled. By chance, we met up with two other escaping companies, who informed us that our situation was complicated by Darius¡¯ division. Darius and his men had been pinned a few acres to the north among the jagged terraces. He and Guldar had managed to rescue Tel¡¯aren but were now trapped by stone and steel.

    ¡®To me, all companies present,¡¯ Ro?thia called. ¡®We have a new objective: we rescue Darius and his troops so something may be salvaged of this nightmare.¡¯

    Understandably, groans and complaints went up from many, barely heard over the grumbling, crumbling, screaming all around us. Even the chain of command barely holds up against such wanton disaster.

    ¡®With all respect, there is too much in the way,¡¯ one said.

    ¡®Darius will find his way,¡¯ said another. ¡®That man is immortal.¡¯

    With time running out, I spoke also. ¡®What if we used their own engines against them?¡¯ I asked. A hopeless, desperate plan.

    ¡®This girl has more stones than any of you,¡¯ Ro?thia said. ¡®Where you see terrors, she sees targets. Let this be my testament: if I perish here, Catena is to become Amarant in my place.¡¯

    I did not share the Amarant¡¯s faith in me and could not even begin to entertain what she was suggesting.

    El¡¯enur seemed taken by the idea. Son?lle was still with us, and Ishak also, and they agreed. With a few other brave men, we charged the advancing line of siege engines. Madness, it seemed. But when even retreat was uncertain, what else could we do but risk it all for those we cared about?

    One last push. That was all we had in us.

    We dashed through dust and flame and wracked our minds desperately for some way to bring one of the machines under our command. We dodged through wheel and axle, looking for a way into one of the siege towers. El¡¯enur began firing some testing shots upward into the exposed platforms. Some found their mark and men fell, their demise drowned out by the deafening, fiery chaos all around.

    El¡¯enur then spotted some exposed ladders and ramps at the rear of the tower he had been aiming at, and called us over. With the lookouts in confusion, we were able to snake through the stampede and hop onto the first level of the tower. Ishak made quick work of the sentries near the ramp.

    Inside, we stepped into the machine¡¯s inner workings, its cogs and turning cranks. This gallery was manned by what we believed were slaves. Ro?thia persuaded them to turn the tower around. She raged at the despicable tactics of our enemy and offered the tower¡¯s workers freedom in exchange for aid.

    With the tower¡¯s course changing, we were certain that the remaining soldiers on the upper levels would come to investigate. Ishak, Son?lle, and myself headed up the layers in order to cut them off. Surely enough, three men were preparing themselves in the chamber at the tower¡¯s top as we ascended the final ladder.

    Ishak and myself took on the ones who approached us with drawn swords. But the third ran to a nearby storage space and rummaged about with something. When he turned, he was holding a strange device. With a spark, a fuse was lit and acrid smoke poured out of the thing in his hands. We realised that the enemy was prepared to take themselves down, along with the machine, rather than have it fall into another¡¯s hands.

    Quicker than I could react, Son?lle rushed forward and tackled the warrior holding the explosive. I screamed, but could not hear myself. Both Son?lle and the startled man tumbled through the tower¡¯s open windows and down into the dust. The following explosion rocked the tower but did not destroy it. I do not even remember Ishak felling the two warriors in the upper chamber, but I will always remember beautiful Son?lle falling through the air, her life gracefully given for ours.

    El¡¯enur came up a few moments later. He looked around and understood. He ran his hand roughly through his hair, grief expressed in this simple gesture. Ishak breathed heavily and his eyes would not meet any of ours.

    Then, El¡¯enur noticed something yet again. He pointed at something in the distance through the tower¡¯s opening. From this height we could see, beyond the platforms of Feres, the caves from which siege engines and soldiers spewed forth. The hordes were emerging from the mountain¡¯s yawning mouth at the bottom of a slope.

    We relayed this information to Ro?thia. The Amarant took on a solemn look and she spoke with finality which brooked no dissension. ¡®Darius, his company, and the Easterner¡ªthat is your objective now,¡¯ she said, gazing at each of us in turn. ¡®I will deal with this.¡¯

    Her attention was turned to halt the advance of the machines. She intended to cut them off at the source, like a stopper placed upon a bottle.

    But first, we had the tower manoeuvred to the edge of a high cliff-platform. Ishak led the remainder of our companions up through the layers and used the overhanging balcony at the top to transition across. With a final look back at his commander, Ishak signalled his gratitude¡ªnot simply for this moment, but for a lifetime of instruction and companionship¡ªand took off in the direction of Darius¡¯ plight. El¡¯enur and the rest followed.

    When my turn came, I resisted.

    ¡®I see you still have some of your stubbornness,¡¯ Ro?thia said, something of a smile on her face. ¡®Don¡¯t worry, I don¡¯t intend to blow myself up.¡¯

    I did not budge. After a few moments, Ro?thia resigned herself and said, ¡®Make yourself useful, then.¡¯

    I waved to the rest of the company and assured them we would be reunited soon. For now, Ro?thia and I had a siege tower to exploit and a group of frightened slaves to set free. Yes, I wanted Ro?thia¡¯s plan to succeed and ensure the deathly trappings of Feres did not continue. But I also wished to savour this woman¡¯s presence a breath longer. I felt clutched by an unsettling dread, and was nagged by the sensation that I would regret not having spent enough time with my mentor.

    The Amarant explained her plan to the tower¡¯s drivers. She would have them wheel the machine to the cusp of the slope leading into the cavern entrance. From there, they were to exit the contraption. I was to protect them and lead them to refuge. We reiterated our promise that once this was all over, they would have their freedom and a chance at a new life wherever they wished.

    As for Ro?thia and the siege tower, momentum would do the rest once it was over the hill. Ro?thia was to steer the craft into the enemy¡¯s battlements. To assist with the tower¡¯s payload, the Amarant procured the remaining explosive devices stored in the upper levels of the tower. We shifted uneasily at the sight of these tools, but Ro?thia seemed confident, eyes ahead as we charted a course for the cave.

    The time came too soon. Evening had fallen and the grey skies had given way to black. The tower was over the hill. We could see a darkened, rocky landscape upon which torches and fires were arrayed like fallen stars. The appearance of our tower seemed to have surprised the enemy, as we could hear sudden shouting and spotted panicked movement.

    ¡®Go!¡¯ Ro?thia yelled as the wheels kept turning and the tower was on the verge of picking up speed. The twenty or so men and women that had piloted the machine scrambled out and dived to safety. I followed, meeting the unwelcome embrace of solid ground in a roll. My weapon broke and was lost somewhere in the tumble.

    The slaves gathered around me, like dust-tipped sheep around a shepherd. I made sure the area was clear of assailants before turning my attention to the rolling tower. I could see Ro?thia through the tower¡¯s mechanism, one arm on a lever, the other holding a beam for support. She faced forward, a proud captain steering a wavering ship to its doom. The tower ploughed on for the last couple hundred yards, heedless of the capering soldiers who had become aware of its intent too late. Some tried in vain to block the tower¡¯s advance or halt it. But neither stone nor flaming arrow could stop the beast.

    I saw Ro?thia leap out at the last moment before the tower collided with cliff-face.

    Then a blast which silenced the gabbling forces and shook the mountain itself.

    There was a blaze like a second sun had lit up for a moment. Night turned into day. I drew my arms up to my eyes as fire engulfed the mountain. When vision returned, I could see the mountainside had collapsed. Wooden battlements had blown away like chaff. Machines lay strewn about in pieces and motionless bodies were scattered among the rocks. There were no sounds left, no voices, only the constant whisper of flame.

    Then I saw her.

    Ro?thia¡¯s figure emerged from between wrecked men and material. She was bruised and bloody, armour in shreds and appearance a mess. She planted her spear and raised a battered arm in victory. She let out a primal roar, a beckoning cry which warmed my heart and let all know that she was one who dared to dream, dared to act.

    I ran forward to greet her and tend to her wounds. The distance between us seemed to stretch as I sprinted over fire-kissed stones. I never made it.

    A second silhouette joined Ro?thia ahead of me. Slow, stalking steps. A raised glint of steel. A heartless slash.

    It was happening again. Someone was being taken from me and I was powerless.

    I panted and choked as I got close. Ro?thia was no longer standing. I stumbled in the ashfall and crashed to my knees beside her.

    ¡®And thus falls even Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s finest,¡¯ a voice said.

    I looked up to the figure looming above us. He did not seem like a normal soldier. He was not an Easterner. Red eyes like fire looked at me. The rest of his face was hidden behind cloth and cloak. He bore a scythe, its blade bloodied from its fresh infliction.

    ¡®I am he who puts out hope,¡¯ he said.

    There was a great ache in my chest.

    ¡®Darius is next,¡¯ he continued.

    I could not give full heed to the killer. I almost gave in to the sorrow. But this was the moment Ro?thia had spoken of.

    So instead, I grabbed hold of Ro?thia¡¯s still-upraised weapon and stood up. Oneledim, a venerable elegy written in silver and gold, an appropriate song to honour the woman whose life had changed mine. I took hold of her spear, and in that instant, there was an almost-burst of light. A half-picture. I felt a synergy of fire and light within me, willing to be uncaged. But as I tried to focus this newfound flow, it was restricted, like an overstuffed chest forcibly held shut.

    The intruder stepped back. But it was not enough. Though my awakening was only partial, I felt quickened by this rush of starlight. I struck with the spear in one maddened motion. The weapon tore at the man¡¯s face and he gave a howl of pain and surprise. When he looked back at me, bloodied and unnatural teeth were visible through disfigured lips and cheek.

    I faced him down, wheezing hard. The shadowy pain had overcome me and it took effort merely to stand. My vision was blurry, like a smear of ink. My helmet was heavy and seemed to press in around me. But I did not back down then. I pushed through the dark¡¯s constriction.

    I did not intend or foresee what happened next. The freed slaves, who had taken shelter in an opening by the cliff, joined me once more. They drew up a battle line on either side of me, picking up discarded weapons and implements from the fallen. I do not know what compelled them so. Perhaps it was a gesture of solidarity with one of a broken heart, one who had also suffered at the hands of oppressors. A wordless but worthy kindness.

    He-Who-Puts-Out-Hope seemed put off by this reinforcement. With hand tending to his injury, he was not ready to take on an entire troupe. He spluttered and spoke, somewhat slurred, before retreating into shadow. ¡®We will go on unhindered.¡¯

    He fled, but before I could even think to give chase, a weak voice beckoned me. I rushed back to Ro?thia¡¯s side and grasped her hand.

    ¡®Ad¨¦lia,¡¯ the Amarant whimpered, ¡®you are a flower, trampled and beset by flame. But you must rise and bloom again.¡¯

    The freedmen around me lowered their weapons and bowed their heads. They knew what was to happen. They knew she was falling into the sleep which takes us all one day.

    I held on to her hand. It was going colder.

    ¡®I see a doe,¡¯ she said suddenly, her eyes lucid, focused on something before her that I could not see. Her songlike voice continued. ¡®I see her tread o¡¯er air and land with graceful leap; with tender tears she gently comes my soul to reap.¡¯

    Her grip on my hand loosened and she finally slipped beyond the veil, to the place where we may not follow. I do not know what she meant, but under that acid sky, Ro?thia died as she lived: with strength and pride.

    My next actions are a blur. With dirt and ash and tears in my eyes, I turned my efforts to re-join the group on their way to rescue Darius. Those we saved from the siege tower offered their swords and service once more.

    We left the Amarant¡¯s body there and together, we traced our steps back to the platform where our companions had left and found a way to climb up the snaggy rocks. A strange stillness came over Feres as we ascended the cliffs. Floating debris from the explosion Ro?thia had caused continued to float on the wind, butterfly-cinders in a dead, dead land.

    We must have found Darius¡¯ group, and before break of dawn, more blood was spilled. I do not remember much of it. I was numbed, moving automatically with unfeeling limbs. I cut through the final foes, but it was not me. It was as if I were far away, watching it happen to someone else.

    Ishak¡¯s steady hand brought me back.

    ¡®Let¡¯s go home,¡¯ he said.

    It was over. Tel¡¯aren was dead. We could not save him, though we managed to rescue Darius¡¯ troops. Our reinforcements came with daybreak and took down those who still opposed. Others fled, taking their machines with them. We remained briefly, burying those we could find and recognise.

    Then, we limped home, confused and broken, hearts aching. We bore the weight of what was lacking. I am still not sure if what happened at Feres is a victory. Time will tell the worth or folly of our endeavours, indeed.

    But one last insult followed us.

    ¡®The Order of Seven shall once more serve the Dragonking.¡¯ This message came back via our eagles to all the companies. Each parcel bore some gruesome token of its former handler. This, along with the presence of the scythe-wielding intruder, was our first tangible confirmation of the grand, wrangling schemes of the Order. That ancient enemy is even now pulling strings to bring about calamity. The battle of Feres may have ended there, but the war over light and shadow continues on, and I suspect we will soon be entangled in it again.

    I was twenty-one on the day I knelt in the Hall of the Elders, speaking the words of my oath of Amarantship. I do not think I earned this honour, but nor have I taken it lightly.

    Amarantship involves overseeing conscription in one¡¯s respective mane, approving and appointing the sourcing and distribution of equipment, overviewing training, setting divisions and their commanders, and disseminating pay and benefits.

    The sundry skills in administration I had been taught during my tenure in Fara¡¯ethar would come in handy. But beyond this, I wanted to make sure that those who returned from Feres would receive care and attention. I wanted them to recover or retire in peace. And if I could, beside all that, be a force for the good of the world when fighting alongside them, I would consider it a blessing.

    There was dissension about my age. Some were hesitant to place such a great task on one so young.

    ¡®She had Ro?thia¡¯s blessing,¡¯ Ishak protested at the ceremony.

    ¡®Aye, she fought like the Spearheart of yore,¡¯ another said.

    I did not know what to say, but there was a chorus of approval. The steward bade me approach. He eyed me, questing whether I truly wanted this.

    ¡®Once chosen, you will carry out this position until death,¡¯ he said.

    I looked up, determined. The faces of my mother, my father, my mentor, my companions, were in mind. I bowed my head.

    The other Amarants stepped up beside me, hands behind their backs. Amaleron laid a ceremonial flag over my shoulder and spoke.

    ¡®You are thus called into the service of light¡¯s song, elected for the mandate of love¡¯s obedience, and chosen for Amarantship. In allegiance to Anardes, your blood and starlight are to be given for this world¡¯s protection. For three hundred years this duty has been upheld. Do you, the twenty-ninth, swear to do the same?¡¯

    My reply was resolute. ¡®On Regulus¡¯ honour and Carinae¡¯s love, I swear.¡¯

    ¡®Your oath binds you, Amarant Catena.¡¯

    I did not emerge from that ceremony a changed woman. I was still grieving. I was still feeling the erasure of my starlight. It did not ease the passing of all whom I had lost. But that public declaration did renew and refocus my commitment. Undeterred by suffering, I stood ready to fill my role, knowing that while aspects of me may be in disarray, I need not question the rightness of my affection for this world.

    And in all this, part of me was still in Gohenur. I yearned for my forest. So, I asked if I could go there occasionally. Amaleron was generous. He allowed me to retain some of the life I had in my old lodging. More than this, the Empire arranged to fix up my dilapidated home so I could have a more stable presence in the forest.

    This was my step back to a place I truly belonged, where I could deal with my grief. What I could not do in the crippling haze of Feres or in the thin, stretched days that followed in the castle, I offered out in the recesses and solitude of my forest. A final memoir for the fallen.

    I am a paradox of steel and petal. If you wish to understand me, look there ¨C my garden, my flowers, my forest. My bent and broken dreams. There I mourn and rejoice. There ever and forever I¡¯ll abide.

 Chapter Twenty-one - This Long Defeat

    Valinos¡¯ training had been progressing well. Though mere days had passed under Darius¡¯ tutelage, already he felt more attuned to his weapons. They were becoming more than tools, something like extensions of himself. He wondered how this feeling would be amplified in someone who had handled weapons for far longer. He intended to walk this path until he found out. And all it had taken to get him going was a silly card game.

    Gulren and Anfr¨¬r, now sheathed and at rest, hung along the balustrade of a viewing platform on the upper levels of Taeladran overlooking night-shaded plains clotted with tufts from the forest. Other balconies jutted out of the scalloped slopes of Taeladran¡¯s stony bulwark like rocky fruit on a mountain-tree. Valinos himself sat under a jet sky, fingers knotted together and thumbs absentmindedly rubbing at the soreness in his palms.

    Yes, he was learning how to handle his weapons, but would it be enough? Here was Asphales, being taught how to shape starlight and guide the flow of the world¡ªwhatever that meant. Their enemies, too, were figures of legend who seemed unbounded by the limitations fettering everyone else.

    Limitations. That¡¯s what Valinos had run into all his life. Restrictions to how much he knew, how much he could do. He envied the birds of the sky. Foolishly so, for when reality settled in, Valinos knew he could not shirk the responsibilities which befell him.

    Still, it seemed as if Asphales was walking on ahead, launching into something with unreal and unlimited potential. Would their paths diverge? He supposed they must, eventually. But it was unpleasant to become aware of this widening gap between them.

    So for now, Valinos had his training and his vow. Something Darius had said came to mind, that first day when Asphales had screamed an unfamiliar name and lessons were cut short. There was a rage-induced flurry of blows from Valinos. One of his blades sank into Darius¡¯ shoulder as Blackfrost nicked him also. Both combatants walked away with minor injuries.

    If you keep fighting like this, Darius said, you will die. More importantly, they will die. The ones next to you, who trust you.

    Valinos could not avoid feeling bitter over this reproof. From the stories, Darius himself was hardly the exemplar for cool-headedness. Still, he had to be thankful that one so skilled would take to showing him a few things. And Sirius be damned, for all his cryptic sulkiness, Darius was still the closest to someone who truly understood.

    Valinos sighed. He found himself wishing that Fen¡¯asel was here. She was a burst of summer on his wintry countenance. Somehow, he could not be bitter when she was around. And her culinary delights were always a boon.

    In fact, the smell of baked goods seemed tangible suddenly. Then Valinos heard a shuffle from a corridor behind him and he rose to attention. His hand snapped to his side, forgetting that weapons were unlatched and idle, a few paces away.

    ¡®My apologies, master. Just doing the rounds on my patrol.¡¯

    It was Nathariel. The guard captain leaned in with a quizzical look, his indigo eyes peering across the balcony at Valinos.

    Valinos eased and greeted him.

    ¡®Care for a treat?¡¯ Nathariel asked, his hands appearing holding out a tray of morsels. ¡®Made them myself.¡¯

    Valinos raised an eyebrow but didn¡¯t voice his suspicion.

    ¡®Don¡¯t tell Kasil,¡¯ said Nathariel.

    Valinos strode over and took a piece¡ªa jam-filled pastry¡ªfrom the proffered variety. It was fresh and warm.

    ¡®There you go,¡¯ Nathariel said. ¡®They say you can¡¯t eat your way out of sullenness, but it¡¯s worth trying, I say.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you,¡¯ Valinos said.

    Nathariel turned to go, presumably to return to duty, but then he spun on his heel, his midnight-blue cape trailing the sudden motion. ¡®You know,¡¯ he said, ¡®you strike me as different to the rest.¡¯

    Valinos finished his bite and then bitter words came out even before the sweetness faded. ¡®Maybe because I am not a hardened war veteran or some starlight-flinging hero.¡¯

    ¡®Ho ho, no, that may be true, but it¡¯s the regular things you have to watch. The unassuming. They¡¯re the ones to surprise you. They may end up not being quite as insignificant as once thought. Even stone glimmers when polished.¡¯

    Valinos did not reply, merely narrowed his eyes, unsure what Nathariel was prattling about.

    Nathariel held up a hand. ¡®Just my measured opinion¡ªwhich you may duly trust. How about you, now? Are you on a quest to track down something important, to find your place in the world?¡¯

    ¡®I¡ª¡¯ Valinos began.

    ¡®I jest, of course. I do not presume to know the workings of a mind which carries itself with such solemnity. And I really should return to my watch now. Look to the sky, Valinos. Good night.¡¯

    With that, Nathariel was off. Valinos was not sure what to make of the captain¡¯s antics. He finished the pastry, then shouldered the scabbard-belt housing his two blades, preparing to retire for the night.

    Before heading in, he looked up into the black, star-studded sky. And as one often does, Valinos noticed some new and indistinct pinprick of light or other. And he noticed the space where there was a lack, where stars should be. But Valinos did not yet see whatever it was that he was meant to see up there in the midnight ceiling.

    * * *

    Asphales¡¯ sword clashed with Ad¨¦lia¡¯s spear while Eltanin watched on. Nador¨¬l chipped away at Oneledim, but the Amarant¡¯s spear was uncompromising. It was a chill Meadsbell afternoon in N¨¬this, but the heat of the practice duel kept warm these warriors. The plateau rang out with the grunts of effort and the groan of steel on stone.

    Asphales felt jovial, playful even, as he fell in step with a practiced rhythm. As he had come to expect of the Elder¡¯s peculiar fashion, Eltanin had encouraged light-heartedness, despite the grim nature of their task, and Asphales had found himself imbibing this outlook.

    The Elder¡¯s penchant for infuriating word games continued too, however. When Asphales questioned why Eltanin had not yet showed him some of the techniques he promised, the Elder replied simply: ¡®I have been showing you. But whether you¡¯ve been learning is a different matter.¡¯

    But here in the moment of the duel, as he sensed his starlight roused further¡ªalong with what he could only describe as a sense of life itself¡ªlittle frustrations did not matter.

    ¡®Come at me, my lady,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®I will be Lanurel the Unassailable.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia smirked, then avoided his oncoming rush with a pirouette. She brought up her weapon mid-spin and knocked Asphales over with the butt of her spear.

    She looked down at Asphales as he scrambled to collect himself and regain his stance. ¡®I did not know the world¡¯s greatest hero was so easily assailable,¡¯ she said.

    Eltanin roared with laughter. ¡®Lad, even with starlight on your side, she has you beat.¡¯

    It was true. Asphales wondered how powerful she would be if she had access to her light. But it was not a time for dark thoughts. He laughed along and accepted the Amarant¡¯s offered hand. She took off her helmet, breathing heavily, and smiled at him in wordless gratitude.

    Asphales took her in differently as she stood, armour-clad, there in the silver-light of the sun reflected on stone. Her beauty, her strength, her fierce energy. The scarlet waves cascading down her back, the emeralds set in her beaming face. All these things, and the things he had noticed stretching back to that encounter in the forest, Asphales treasured. With the song behind her story told, he¡ªnow more than ever¡ªappreciated this privilege of being beside her as companion-in-light.

    He would have wanted that night to go on unending, had not their purpose pressed itself on them. And here on this very plateau they were taking strides toward realising that purpose and pushing back the shadow.

    At Ad¨¦lia¡¯s request, Asphales had begun imbuing starlight into his strikes and she would run through parry drills. The Amarant¡¯s intent was to practice against other opponents who possessed such powers. Asphales admired her ability to push away the bitterness she no doubt felt in favour of being prepared for the task ahead. In turn, Asphales would be training with someone who had fought in the grit of the battlefield and relied on pure battle instinct to forge ahead.

    ¡®So, shall we go another round?¡¯ Asphales asked, now that he was firmly back on two feet.

    Before Ad¨¦lia could answer, it was the captain of the guard who spoke up. ¡®An unfed stomach has unpleasant consequences, masters.¡¯ Nathariel strode in unannounced, holding a tray of cakes and pastries. He offered them around to Eltanin and Ad¨¦lia, but they declined.

    Asphales realised how hungry he was and he sunk his teeth into the cakes. He grabbed handfuls of savouries, ham-filled pastries, as well as a few jam-dripping rolls.

    ¡®My apologies, captain,¡¯ Eltanin said. ¡®I do not mean to affront your efforts ¨C a journey from the town below is not the lightest undertaking.¡¯

    ¡®No offense taken, my lord. I have a knack for being where I need to be, judging by the one happy customer.¡¯

    Asphales wiped his chin and mouthed his thanks.

    ¡®No need to stuff yourself prior to our celebration,¡¯ Nathariel said. ¡®There¡¯ll be plenty more later.¡¯

    ¡®There¡¯s a celebration today?¡¯ Asphales said, with some difficulty.

    ¡®Yes, Taeladran holds its own feast,¡¯ Eltanin explained. ¡®It may not match the grandeur of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s pompousness, but I suppose in your impecunious circumstances, any such luxuries were not readily attainable, so I do hope you find it to your liking.¡¯

    Asphales took the jest in good stride. ¡®The only pompous thing around here seems to be you, judging by what you¡¯re wearing.¡¯

    ¡®What, this?¡¯ Eltanin said in mock humility, twisting around to show the finesse of his brightly-coloured silken robes.

    Nathariel eyed the group queerly. ¡®I do hope you are preparing for something other than a fashion fair up here,¡¯ he said. ¡®One would begin to wonder where this city¡¯s leader is always off to.¡¯

    ¡®Oh, don¡¯t you worry about that,¡¯ Eltanin said. ¡®There is great weight to what we do here. Now, I am sorry to be rude a second time, but we require some privacy. You may return to duty. One would begin to wonder where this city¡¯s guard captain is always off to.¡¯

    Eltanin grinned and bowed. ¡®Of course, my lord.¡¯ He took the tray in hand and turned to leave.

    As Eltanin watched the captain¡¯s figure disappear below the rocky outcrops, he said. ¡®Asphales, I must teach you one more thing.¡¯ His ruby eyes were set hard, the Elder¡¯s brows creased. A gust of wind blew about him and revealed the blade sheathed beneath the Elder¡¯s robes. Eltanin looked the part of the warrior who had set back the dark so many eons ago.

    Asphales, now having finished his morsel and appearing more dignified, threw a glance towards Ad¨¦lia, who seemed as confused as he was by this change of mood.

    ¡®You are being uncharacteristically maudlin,¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®Yes, well, some melodies may end more abruptly than others,¡¯ he said simply. Then he looked at Asphales and Ad¨¦lia. ¡®And new ones begin.¡¯

    In the spirit of this more sombre atmosphere, Asphales threw in a question: ¡®What is my mother like now? I have memories of her, half-buried by the dimness of time. What is she like?¡¯

    Eltanin sighed. ¡®Words can¡¯t approach the true measure of a person, Asphales. Even if were to describe her, what would that do but increase the fevered aching of your heart? She is alive and as well as she could be, that is all I may say. All the rest may only be rightly answered by her and her alone, when fortune brings your paths together.

    ¡®Now,¡¯¡ªthe Elder stepped forward and drew his sword¡ª¡®We have already made good progress. Your starlight was already bubbling, Asphales. I just needed to coax it, stir it like a simmering broth. This final touch will set it fully into motion. The Eldersong will do the rest henceforth.

    ¡®My lady, I am sorry that this will not be readily applicable to your condition. In good faith, I teach this so that one day it may prove useful when days are darker and our hope brighter.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia gave him an acknowledging nod.

    ¡®Approach me now,¡¯ he said to both of them. ¡®Strike, and do not falter.¡¯

    With another glance towards Ad¨¦lia, Asphales did so. He rushed forward, Ad¨¦lia following a moment later. The distance between them closed in a heartbeat. Asphales struck out with Nador¨¬l, and the Amarant brought the length of the spear up in a wide motion.

    Eltanin barely moved.

    When Asphales drew back, he noticed a cut on the Elder¡¯s face. Eltanin winced and brought his hand up to his ribs, where Ad¨¦lia¡¯s spear had struck.

    ¡®Good, good,¡¯ he said. ¡®Now, pay attention. If imbuement is about imagining the outward flow of starlight and your connection to it, for healing you must position yourself so that it flows inward.¡¯

    Eltanin steadied his grip on his sword and spoke in a low, strong voice. ¡®Astera iatemai.¡¯

    There was a soft glow, almost imperceptible. But Asphales paid close attention to the wound on the Elder¡¯s face. In a blink, Eltanin wiped his cheek, and it was gone. He also eased his posture and relieved the hold on his side, as if it no longer pained him.

    ¡®In healing,¡¯ he said, ¡®you plead with Carinae to reverse a moment of this world¡¯s turning. You cannot mend everything, for many wounds and illnesses are too entrenched in the world¡¯s flow to be undone. But where grace may be given, you will find respite for minor injuries and ailments.¡¯

    ¡®This is how you mended Darius¡¯ wound when we met you in the wilderness,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said.

    ¡®Yes. Mending may be transferred to others, though that step takes more practice still, to cross the divide between one and another¡¯s flow.¡¯

    Eltanin put his sword away. ¡®I think it would be imprudent to practice this now, as I do not wish to willingly wound my students.¡¯

    Asphales laughed and nodded.

    ¡®But still,¡¯ the Elder continued, ¡®may this lesson find you well in time of need.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you,¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®I leave you with a word of warning, however,¡¯ Eltanin said, suddenly serious. ¡®This power you access is to be used carefully. My dear lady, you¡¯ve experienced firsthand what happens when you try to channel what is not there. And you, Asphales, you may feel unbounded freedom in your current state, but there are limits. You cannot give more than you have. To do so is to invite disaster. I do not desire to see your stars burn out ere they have a chance to truly glisten.¡¯

    Asphales swallowed hard. ¡®Duly noted,¡¯ he said.

    Eltanin closed his eyes. ¡®We are nearly done here. And you two will need to take the next step. I fear what will be required of you, but I sense you will be up for it. Hadar and Menkalinan were among the most noble souls I have ever known, and I see their qualities in you.¡¯

    He opened his eyes and his warm gaze took in both children of starlight, as if for the first time. He smiled. Asphales and Ad¨¦lia could not help but do the same.

    ¡®Off you go, now,¡¯ he said gently, and produced a small wineskin from somewhere. ¡®Leave an old man to reflect a little before the joviality tonight.¡¯

    Asphales returned to his lodgings for a bath and bed-rest as the afternoon light waned. As he soaked in the water¡¯s warmth and steam, he thought contentedly that even this most comforting of pleasures did not match the soothing sensation of flowing starlight. There truly was something freeing and sustaining about being connected, in a more practical and real sense than he could have imagined. Asphales noticed, too, that his dreams had been kinder the nights since his awakening. As if his new light had broken through the stifling, choking grey of his dreams. For this, and for all that had been granted him, he uttered a silent prayer of thanks, before disturbing the calmness of his bath and preparing himself.

    Out in the town¡¯s thoroughfare, Asphales could see the city readying itself for celebration. Garlands of moonglint and other shiny trinkets were laid out on nearly every house. Asphales avoided his earlier mistake and kept his eyes ahead rather than being distracted by the decorations stretching up to the higher levels of the city.

    A procession of merry, coat-clad figures was making its way up the stony paths toward Taeladran¡¯s main hall. Groups of veiled women and jubilant children threaded through the streets, purchasing souvenirs and morsels from temporary stalls. Asphales joined the throng, unable to find others he recognised in the festive traffic.

    ¡®A trinket for you, young sir?¡¯ a voice called out as a hand thrust out a marvel of paperwork shaped like a dragon. Another merchant, seizing this chance, threw in a deal of his own. Asphales declined them both with an awkward gesture and what he hoped was a gentle smile.

    The barrage continued with offers from other envoys of craftwork: glass decorations, moonglint jewellery, and even ornamental weapons. Seeing the gaudy and impractical gem-dotted blades made Asphales glad for his relatively unembellished sword.

    Still, Nador¨¬l caught the attention of at least one. A small boy, walking alongside his mother, was staring.

    ¡®Is it you, then?¡¯ he asked, singling Asphales out of all those in the crowd.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry?¡¯ Asphales said, blinking.

    ¡®Is it you who will fight the dark one? With that sword? People are starting to talk.¡¯

    Before Asphales could answer, the child¡¯s mother turned her attention to the conversation. ¡®Oh, pardon, sir!¡¯ she said. ¡®Boy, mind your own!¡¯ she snapped at her son and pulled him closer.

    ¡®No, it¡¯s quite alright,¡¯ Asphales said. He looked down at the child once more. Asphales saw himself in the boy¡¯s earthy brown hair and keen eyes¡ªa boy taken in with stories, eager for hope and dreams. What answer could possibly satisfy the curiosity of one so young?

    Asphales smiled, and drew the blade ever-so-slightly out of its sheath. He intoned a chant recalled from his time with Amaleron. ¡®Astera pl¨¥ie,¡¯ he whispered. To both Asphales¡¯ and the boy¡¯s delight, the sword shone, ever brief but ever bright, an instant of a gleam more luminous than the lights, fires, and glowing gemstones around them. The boy grinned and Asphales nodded.

    The flow of people obscured the boy from view, but Asphales knew then, even if he would never see that particular child again, that he had glimpsed the worth of seeing those whose hope is kindled.

    He walked on, following the general movement of the crowd. The citizens of Taeladran seemed to have been congregating up near the large, cathedral-like structure with stained glass windows. It loomed ahead, the same colour as the rocky outcrops but clearly not shaped by natural forces. As he approached the final bend of stairs leading up to it, Asphales spotted familiar faces to the side.

    ¡®There he is,¡¯ El¡¯enur shouted, signalling to the others. Darius and Valinos had been leaning against the wall and now stood up to greet him. With so much time this last tide spent on combat, Asphales had forgotten the others could look so, well, noble. All three sported dark-coloured doublets and wore gilded surcoats to guard against the evening chill. Ad¨¦lia hailed him also, garbed in a long forest-green dress and silver coat. With her hair tied back and dressed gracefully, it took Asphales a moment to recognise the warrior who had resoundingly trounced him in their duel earlier.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡®You know you won¡¯t be needing that, right?¡¯ Valinos said, eyeing the sheath at Asphales¡¯ side.

    ¡®Maybe he¡¯s expecting Lady Catena¡¯s sudden attack,¡¯ El¡¯enur said with a knowing grin. The others chuckled.

    ¡®You do not need to worry, Asphales,¡¯ said Ad¨¦lia, ¡®for I am not hiding any weapons within the folds of this dress.¡¯

    Asphales shook his head. ¡®A good thing, too. But I don¡¯t intend to make a habit of losing.¡¯

    ¡®Then you should get some hits in of your own sometime,¡¯ El¡¯enur jeered. Even Darius cracked a smile at that.

    ¡®I don¡¯t think this is the right place for that,¡¯ Asphales retorted.

    ¡®Which brings us back to the reason you¡¯re carrying your sword,¡¯ Valinos chimed in.

    ¡®I just feel¡­ comfortable with it,¡¯ Asphales said, shrugging.

    ¡®We won¡¯t hold that against you, lad,¡¯ Darius said, stepping over. ¡®Now, our guide will be here any moment to take us in.¡¯ He looked to each member of the party. ¡®We¡¯ve done well so far, and earned this break.¡¯

    ¡®Unless my ears deceive me, commander,¡¯ El¡¯enur began, ¡®it would sound like you¡¯re actually commending rest and recreation. Did that rannak dislodge more than your rib?¡¯

    As the jests continued, a stranger stepped near like a stormcloud over pastures. The sound of his clearing throat came like rumbling thunder. Captain Kasil, the bald and sturdy official the group had encountered on their first day, stood nearby. He was clearly on duty, dressed in livery of a style and colour far more subdued than the lavish garb adorning the boisterous crowd.

    ¡®All ready?¡¯ he asked simply. From the man¡¯s posture, tone, and even appearance, Asphales could not help but be reminded of Captain Ledner. He pushed away a pinprick of sadness, which he knew would grow to engulf him if he let it, even amid this festive scene.

    Captain Kasil led them up the stairs toward the main hall. Moments later, a group of similarly stern and stone-faced guards flanked them.

    ¡®It¡¯s been a while since I was treated like a guest of honour,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, appraising the formation around them.

    ¡®My Talon Guard,¡¯ Kasil called back. ¡®Finest you¡¯ll find anywhere.¡¯ The soldiers did not react to their captain¡¯s proud remark.

    ¡®It¡¯d help if you had some honour in you,¡¯ Darius said, turning to El¡¯enur.

    ¡®Oh, commander, is this payback for earlier?¡¯

    Darius and El¡¯enur kept up their verbal jabs as the group ascended toward the entrance. ¡®It¡¯s a wonder they ever get any real fighting done,¡¯ Valinos said toward Ad¨¦lia.

    The Amarant faced him with a faint smile. ¡®Perhaps you can do some fighting for the both of them,¡¯ she said.

    ¡®I don¡¯t¡­¡¯ Valinos began.

    Asphales jumped in. ¡®Yeah, you¡¯ve got two swords to use now. So, what, double the damage?¡¯

    ¡®I guess. Maybe it¡¯ll make up for the lack of lightning or whatever it is that you two can produce from your weapon.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s not quite how it works,¡¯ Asphales said with a chuckle. Ad¨¦lia seemed to retreat a touch, her scarlet hair threatening to become a veil. Valinos must have caught it also, for he quickly apologised. ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ he said, ¡®Asphales was right. This isn¡¯t the place for talking of such things.¡¯

    Asphales figured that Valinos, too, had realised something was not quite right about the Amarant¡¯s powers, since he was a witness on that day she collapsed.

    ¡®All is forgiven, Valinos,¡¯ said Ad¨¦lia. ¡®Our bond is unbroken and this night unspoiled.¡¯

    And what a night it turned out to be, Asphales thought. Once they were let in via the main doors and signed in (like true guests of honour, El¡¯enur giddily noted again), the group was seated together at a head table.

    Inside, Taeladran did not fail to impress. Fine drapery hung around the length of the hall gave the impression one was in a palace. The floor was of polished white oak, giving the distinct air not of a cramped tavern or mess chamber, but a bright and spacious dining hall. This effect was magnified by the clever arrangement of furniture to best use the available space, and each table featured rich, silver cloths and exquisite filigree serving plates and ornaments. Even the light filtering through the stained-glass motifs of Regulus and Carinae sparkled like crystal.

    The meals were no less lavish. Asphales and the others enjoyed course after course of braised chicken, garlic-infused lamb, and spicy garnished pork, to say nothing of the wild array of fruity drinks which pricked every tastebud with vigorous sensation. Asphales was at a loss for whatever Eltanin had meant by this feast not matching up to those put on by Fara¡¯ethar.

    As the night went on, other, more alien dishes were brought out also. Asphales passed on these, under the pretext that he was full from the other food provided (a half-truth). He was wholly glad when their hosts did not insist on him trying the bizarre-smelling creations.

    Others of the group were more adventurous, and El¡¯enur tasted some of the unnaturally-coloured delicacies Taeladran had on offer. Laughter ensued from the masters of the hall as the young archer¡¯s face twisted unpleasantly, but he was awarded a moonglint necklace for his bravery.

    But even so, the most astounding thing was not to be found in the furniture or the food. It was in the company, the human spirit which thrived when tasting hope. It seemed Meadsbell revelry was the same here. Wherever joy takes the heart, the same smiles and songs are shared, no matter how foreign the custom or circumstance.

    These differences in manner, speech, cuisine, and clothing undoubtedly reflected the stories they told themselves. Stories which all captured the vastness of human aspiration and desire in its rich variety. It pressed on Asphales how many more such stories were out there, and how much all these voices were under threat of being silenced by the rise of darkness.

    Glancing around, Asphales reminded himself to be thankful for moments of afforded peace. Still, there was an uneasy feeling he could not shake. He wondered whether it was simply the burden to be carried for having such great yet undefined task ahead.

    At the conclusion of the meals, Eltanin dismissed the seated crowd. People were now free to roam the hall. The majority moved about, partaking in simple chatter, while others took up music and dancing. Some streamed up the stairs toward the upper levels, watching the performances. Darius mingled with some of the guards, while El¡¯enur seemed to have gravitated toward the serving women. Ad¨¦lia sat some distance away on a stool, watching the luthiers strum away a jolly tune. She caught his attention like a lonesome flower in a field of grass. Asphales wondered whether she would dance with him. A foolish thought, interrupted by Eltanin¡¯s arrival.

    ¡®We know how to celebrate, don¡¯t we?¡¯ he asked, striding over in his colourful silks.

    ¡®I concede that you do,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®We will certainly send back a favourable report to Fara¡¯ethar.¡¯

    ¡®Hah!¡¯ he roared. ¡®And tell that old buffoon that he can take his reports and¡ª¡¯ The Elder did not finish whatever he was going to say. His eyes landed fiercely on Valinos, who stepped over with a near-finished glass of some drink.

    ¡®Ah, that reminds me I am parched,¡¯ Eltanin said.

    ¡®I believe this is the last one,¡¯ Valinos said as he drained the cup with a dramatic flair.

    Asphales laughed. ¡®I see your palate has expanded since you¡¯ve seen the world.¡¯

    Valinos set down the cup with a nod.

    Then, a familiar figure, conspicuously absent from prior festivities appeared from a mass of moving people. Nathariel sauntered toward them. Hope for Eltanin, in the form of a tray containing a wine bottle, was held in the guard¡¯s hands.

    ¡®Oh, bless the Winged Guard,¡¯ the Elder said.

    ¡®Like I mentioned,¡¯ said Nathariel, ¡®I know where I need to be.¡¯

    ¡®Not carrying baked goods now, Nathariel?¡¯ asked Valinos.

    Nathariel cleared his throat. ¡®No, master. I believe your hosts did a finer job than I this time.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m not sure about that,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®Your morsels are delicious and comfortable. Some of the things I saw this evening were¡­ wriggling.¡¯

    Nathariel simply smiled as he presented the tray to Eltanin. ¡®My Lord,¡¯ he said, ¡®may I interest you in my personal favourite? I have procured this exquisite vintage.¡¯

    ¡®A fine choice, but I must ask, on the job, Nathariel?¡¯

    ¡®Not tonight, my Lord. Tonight, I am preoccupied with something far more interesting. With all due respect, master Valinos, this particular wine is unsuited to amateurs.¡¯ The guard whisked away the tray before Valinos could reach for a glass.

    Eltanin accepted the offered beverage and brought it to his lips, but stopped short of drinking. ¡®Will you not share one with me, Captain Nathariel?¡¯

    The guard raised no objections. He poured some wine for himself. ¡®To the health of the city,¡¯ he toasted. They downed a glass together.

    ¡®Fine indeed,¡¯ Eltanin said and swigged another round.

    The captain then promptly turned and left, disappearing into the crowd. Eltanin also excused himself and departed to check on the other guests.

    ¡®Strange fellows,¡¯ Valinos said.

    ¡®No stranger than some of our own,¡¯ Asphales replied. He watched as Darius had settled into a contest of strength with some of the guards posted on the perimeter. Not far away, El¡¯enur was being shooed away by the same ladies, no doubt for some inconsiderate remark he had made. Ad¨¦lia still sat by the musicians¡¯ area, tapping her foot along.

    And still the uneasiness tugged at him.

    ¡®That¡¯s true,¡¯ Valinos said. ¡®Who would have imagined a fisherman accompanied by an armourer, doing the bidding of some ancient beings, and sent into a war of proportions we can hardly fathom?¡¯

    ¡®I suppose so,¡¯ Asphales said.

    In truth, his attention was wandering, and he found himself pacing the hall. Asphales was not sure what he was looking for. He weaved through dancing people, whose silken shawls and vibrant robes shimmered in time with music. Whoops and peals of laughter rose around him, but still his mind strained to look for something he had missed.

    Though the day was winding down and the last rays peeked over the western treetops and in through the windows, the scene was as lively as ever. Steps were being taken to ensure the festivities continued unabated. Asphales passed a group of servants who were hurriedly cleaning up rubbish and gathering refuse into large, wheeled containers. Inadvertently, he noticed something in one of these trolleys. It took a moment before focus fell into place.

    It was Captain Nathariel¡¯s wine bottle, discarded and still more than half-full.

    Asphales broke into a run.

    * * *

    Nathariel felt remarkably calm for someone who had just killed a god. Well, almost. The deed was done. The star¡¯s light was vanishing. There yet remained the inevitable outworking of his actions.

    Sow. Water. Reap. It was as simple as that. What he had just carried out here would ripple out and be remembered. One snuffed light here would result in a brighter future for all. If the world needed a radical push to change it, so be it.

    Nathariel passed by the faces of Taeladran, giving them the smile of an off-duty guard. The idiots returned it and offered pleasantries, unaware he was on a hunt.

    How he hated it all. How he hated the skewed and uneven nature of the world. The joy Nathariel saw around him was false and ignorant. While these gluttonous nobles lounged around and congratulated their own despicable complacency, places like Sanaros rotted in squalor.

    But Nathariel would change that, by Sirius he would, even if he was but a cog, a first step, in the mechanism which would one day turn back the settled order.

    Nathariel drew a deep breath and pushed past more people blindly enjoying their comforts and entered some spare quarters on the upper levels of the hall. As he slammed the door behind him, he felt his stomach tighten.

    He had been rash. Not for nothing was the poison known as Retela¡¯s Bane. Said to bring on the same incurable suffering that had plagued the ancient queen, it was the only way to ensure the downfall of a creature beyond mortal capacity. That he, too, would now be crippled by it was mere collateral to the job. He hoped Sanah would forgive him.

    Safely out of eyesight and earshot, Nathariel slipped into the lavatory. As he felt his knees weaken, and the agony in his stomach growing, he fell onto the latrine and made himself regurgitate.

    It was not dignified, but it was necessary.

    Minutes later, retching and convulsing mostly over, Nathariel equipped his baldric and prepared to finish his assignment. He felt for his sword, his moonglint blade. It helped to avert his gaze from the lush d¨¦cor of this place. Even the carpet and drapery were assaults on his sensitivities, reminders of how much others hoarded while many lacked. But if there was true beauty in the world, it was to be found in this weapon. It was made as if of glass in blue and purple hues. Its hilt extended out as twin spikes of jagged diamond.

    What was formerly a simple trinket, a relic, was in his hands a tool for change.

    He had been like that once, too. Privileged and impotent. But no longer. Leaving his father¡¯s estate¡ªfor all the qualities the man possessed¡ªhad been the best choice of Nathariel¡¯s life.

    Perhaps that was not quite true. In all the time he had committed to seeing the world upended and in all the devotion he had shown to his masters, he never put the one who had captured his heart out of mind. He hoped to see her again, to once more sit above the earth with her. What a welcome thing that would be after the years spent in this dreadful, dainty fortress.

    But first, there were things to do.

    Nathariel pulled a cloak over his weaponry and stepped back out into the hall.

    ¡®Are you alright, sir?¡¯ a sentry asked. ¡®We heard retching but weren¡¯t sure whether to interrupt.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, just fine,¡¯ he said, wiping his mouth and still tasting bile.

    ¡®A bit heavy on the drink, eh?¡¯ another guard said with a stupid smile.

    ¡®Something like that,¡¯ Nathariel said, trying not to spill venom. It would not do to give everything away so close to the end. He pressed on, leaving the chuckling guards to their ignorant business.

    By now, the poison would have begun to work in Eltanin as well. Nathariel would simply need to administer the killing blow. The spark that would light a fire.

    Following his instincts, Nathariel made for the highest level, up the sleek, marble staircase and into an open hallway that spread to a large balcony overseeing the entire city. It was deserted, for the cool evening wind had pushed onlookers back to warmth. The last light of day made for an appropriately deathly scene, a single blood-red line engulfing the horizon, crushed by heavy blackness.

    As he had expected, Nathariel found him here.

    The Elder was leaning hard on the balustrade, heaving. He looked out over his city, firelights playing about below where civic activities were still occurring. Faint sounds drifted up.

    ¡®Come to get some fresh air, my lord?¡¯ Nathariel asked.

    Eltanin took a moment to answer. He turned slowly. His skin had gone pale and his eyes dimmed. The Elder was probably creaking and cracking like the too-old creature he was.

    ¡®You may drop the pretence,¡¯ he said with an effortful huff.

    And so he did.

    ¡®Look at you, ancient cur,¡¯ Nathariel began, ¡®Bibulous and pathetic.¡¯

    It felt good to say what he had felt for so long. Nathariel stepped forward. The chill breeze cleared his head and the lightness in his stomach faded somewhat.

    Eltanin strained a smile. ¡®I admit to my vices, captain. And I commend your hardiness and commitment.¡¯

    ¡®Did you work it out before or after the poison started eating at you?¡¯

    ¡®Fortunately, the toxin was already at work. But I have had my suspicions. Your niceties would give you away. I may be an optimist, but no soul is so kind.¡¯

    Nathariel took a step forward. The Elder¡¯s glib demeanour infuriated him. ¡®What do you mean? What fortune is there in the pitiful end you will meet here? I outwitted you, old man. And now, I will outmatch you.¡¯

    Eltanin nodded breathlessly. ¡®That you did, and that you will. But you see, I go as is written. But you¡­ who knows what awaits you in the blind and endless dark?¡¯

    Nathariel drew his blade. ¡®Your philosophy does not scare me. The ending of all your hopes should frighten you.¡¯

    From somewhere beneath the Elder¡¯s pained face, shock finally surfaced.

    ¡®Good,¡¯ Nathariel said. ¡®You¡¯re starting to realise your position.¡¯

    ¡®Not that, you stupid boy,¡¯ Eltanin said. ¡®I have seen that blade before,¡¯ he said stoutly, but stammering. ¡®How did you come upon it? Foolish children should not be treated to such treasures.¡¯

    Nathariel roared and leapt to strike. With a groan, Eltanin drew his own sword and blocked. The motions were well-practiced and would have been fearsome if not for the sluggish reflexes induced by the poison.

    Nathariel had made one miscalculation. It appeared they were not alone. From the corner of the balcony, a few guests screamed and ran inside. How pathetic. They fled when sensing something was wrong, like scuttling bugs exposed by the light. It mattered not, for it would all be over soon.

    As his moonglint sword continued to trade blows with the Elder¡¯s glimmering weapon, Nathariel smiled. This night he would be the harbinger of something none could run from.

    * * *

    Asphales burst in on a clash of light and steel. On a balcony of old stone and marble proudly overlooking the stone city of Taeladran, its master was under attack. Lord Eltanin was fending off Captain Nathariel¡¯s repeated strikes. The Elder¡¯s sword danced and flashed to keep up with his opponent¡¯s weapon, but its light flickered unsteadily.

    Asphales panted as he skidded to a stop before the scene of the battle, his thoughts racing to catch up to his position. Yelling and fleeing had first alerted Asphales to the direction of the commotion. He was glad to have reached the scene, but confusion now settled in.

    ¡®What are you doing, captain?¡¯ Asphales cried, voicing the concern that screamed above all others. A deep trembling wracked the pit of his stomach. The uncertain feeling of unease had now fully materialised into dread and panic, a sickening sensation that something was about to go horribly wrong. He drew his sword also, but hesitated, as if he were just holding a dumb tool.

    Nathariel did not answer. He brought his sword down in a two-handed swipe. A sharp peal rent the night as Eltanin barely held on. As weapons scraped, the captain switched his grip, freeing one hand to strike at the Elder¡¯s face. The blow connected, sending Eltanin reeling.

    The Elder gripped the balustrade for support and spat blood. Asphales could tell his injuries were not the only cause of his current state. Pallid and shaking, Eltanin seemed to dwindle by the minute.

    Murmurs and gasps rose from below the terrace. The citizens of Taeladran were now watching the attack. Heavier, more patterned footfalls announced the rush of guards into the building. Asphales breathed. He hoped that in mere moments, there would be a large enough force gathered to overpower the captain.

    The sensation worsened. There would not be enough time.

    Asphales brandished Nador¨¬l.

    He charged.

    He tried to focus on the words, attempted to draw out starlight. But in the rush, it all seemed like a jumble of meaningless babble. Light coalesced, but it was unruly and undirected.

    Still he pressed on, blade in hand.

    Nathariel took notice of him for the first time. The contorted, angry face staring him down bore little resemblance to the light and easy-going captain he had been mere minutes ago. Had all that been an act?

    The captain parried Asphales¡¯ strike with no effort, but it bought the wounded Elder precious seconds to recover. Asphales was sent careening over the marble terrace as Nathariel turned his attention back to his target.

    Eltanin struggled to his feet, but the captain was no longer in front of him. As Asphales picked himself up, he saw Nathariel seize the Elder from behind and drag him to the edge of the balcony.

    ¡®See here, filth of Taeladran,¡¯ he spat so all below could hear. ¡®See your leader. See your hope.¡¯

    His legs burning from effort, Asphales launched himself toward the hapless Elder.

    Please.

    Nathariel brought his sword out.

    Starlight guide my steps.

    Desperately, desperately, Asphales rushed onward.

    Starlight, please.

    ¡®Anardes anardethameren,¡¯ Nathariel said.

    Then the tip of the captain¡¯s handsome, glassy sword was stained red and pointing up to a blackening sky. Nathariel threw aside the Elder¡¯s limp and pierced body.

    The captain¡¯s sword was ready to meet Asphales¡¯ mad charge. At some point, Asphales became aware of someone else entering the premises. His quick glance told him it was El¡¯enur.

    ¡®El! Help!¡¯ he screamed. At least, he hoped he did. He was not sure he could still hear or make out sounds. The clash of blades seemed dulled and muffled.

    In all this, traitor Nathariel smiled a wicked smile, his face now painted with blood, as he continued to evade Asphales¡¯ attempts. The captain flicked his russet curls in mockery.

    A brief flash of light. Eventually, from somewhere deep within, a word of starlight obeyed and Asphales¡¯ hit made the captain stumble. Nathariel expressed his surprise, and this moment of inattention cost him. With a shrill whistle, an arrow lodged itself in the captain¡¯s shoulder. Surprise turned to suffering, and an immobilised Nathariel dropped his weapon.

    Asphales lowered his sword, too, and tackled Nathariel to the ground, away from the Elder¡¯s fallen body. Screaming, crying, moaning, he held the captain down. Asphales pounded uselessly at the man to undo what he had done.

    ¡®It¡¯s too late,¡¯ Nathariel wheezed. ¡®I have done it.¡¯ And he laughed softly, laughed as if sharing a joke with a friend. The shaft piercing through his torn, navy-blue fabric quivered.

    El¡¯enur ran over, and other figures followed. Asphales raised his head from where he had crumpled over and, through teary eyes, noticed Darius and Ad¨¦lia in tow.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, ¡®I could not do more.¡¯ He held a bow, clearly not his own and likely borrowed from a guard in an inspired moment. ¡®Eltanin came over and he was starting to look real pale. I figured something was wrong and I followed you¡­ I¡¯m sorry I did not get here sooner.¡¯ The young archer bowed his head.

    Captain Kasil led his force in and secured the perimeter of the balcony. Too late. Far too late. He gave directions to a few men to check around and bring assistance, but it would have done as well to shout at a wind which had already wreaked its damage.

    Lord Eltanin the Inventive, star of stars, was dying and nothing could change that.

    Asphales buried his head in his hands. He did not want to face them. He had failed, too. He heard movement about him but did not want to see. Eventually, he felt a shadow standing over him.

    ¡®Lad, he wants to see you,¡¯ Captain Kasil said.

    Asphales pushed himself and dared to look over to where the Elder had collapsed. Watching on, his stomach felt empty and full at the same time. He was overcome by that sickening feeling which pulls down and pushes up simultaneously.

    As he released his hold on Nathariel, Captain Kasil¡¯s men accosted the former captain and dragged him to his feet. Nathariel looked weakened himself. He could barely hold his head up to meet his capturer. But when he did, he still bore the same vainglorious smile.

    ¡®Nathariel, how dare you?¡¯ Kasil growled.

    No answer came from Nathariel, just a flashed grin to claim the credit for what he stood accused.

    ¡®Take him away,¡¯ Kasil said.

    ¡®And this blade, sir?¡¯ a guard asked, holding up the bloodied moonglint sword.

    ¡®Confiscate it,¡¯ said the captain. At that, Nathariel looked back as he was escorted off. He seemed to harbour more regret over losing his weapon than the life had taken.

    Asphales walked over to Eltanin. The terrace seemed to be spinning. As he lowered himself, the Elder¡¯s wandering gaze found him. He sat propped against the balustrade, blankets and cushions set up for him. A reddening cloth was wrapped around his chest. And he still bled. His blood spilled like ruby ink drained out of his once lively eyes and onto a sparkling canvas.

    ¡®I perish¡­¡¯ the Elder began. ¡®I perish beneath the gaze of Regulus and Carinae.¡¯ He tried to smile, but coughed instead. Asphales felt tears welling.

    ¡®Oh no,¡¯ Eltanin continued. ¡®Don¡¯t grieve, boy. I have been waiting for this¡­ waiting for you to become¡ª¡¯

    The prideful ruler¡¯s covenant of dread

    The dragon¡¯s fang which pierces all

    A journey which the living fear to tread

    Shall cause the sting of death to fall

    From lightless depths where ancients make their bed

    Arising death brings pallid squall

    And though unnumbered are the righteous dead

    Through fear and loss the few stand tall

    How the Elder sang before he bowed his head in death! Despite his injuries, Eltanin¡¯s voice rang clear, loud and commanding as it had been formerly. A melody, cool and lively as summer, flowed among those standing on that balcony. Asphales felt words, true and living words, write themselves onto an unseen tablet. A wellspring burst forth within him. He felt the river turn into a torrent, eager for release.

    Then the music faded and so did the Elder¡¯s life. The nourishing sensation cooled and he was left with the reality of another ended star.

    And try as he might have to feel rage or sorrow or anything at all, Asphales could sense nothing but emptiness as the day ended and the long defeat settled in.

    The sun had truly set now, a great eye closing its lid in sleep as scuddling clouds passed by.

    It would be a long night, a cold night.

    A night that pains the soul.

    * * *

    Darius stepped deeper into the bowels of the mountain. Torches lined along the descent pushed back the total dark, but it was impossible to tell day and night apart here. There was only the sound of smooth, mossy stone beneath his feet and the weak flickers of flame. Occasionally, a drip sounded from a subterranean stream slowly carving through the rock.

    It reminded Darius of another cave he had once been in. A different man, a different time. Those memories were far behind him, under old scars and scattered as ashes in the fire within his heart.

    The Amarant descended further, past several manned gates, to where Captain Kasil had indicated the prisoner would be taken. Darius had given him the impression he was here to interrogate the culprit under official business from Fara¡¯ethar.

    Of course, Darius intended to do far more than that.

    As he passed openings in the cavern gated by rudimentary and rotting metal bars, Darius had a hunch these dungeons were not much used. But he pitied whoever would be consigned to a sentence in this dank and horrid place. Taeladran certainly knew how to keep its prisoners, letting the heavy silence and immutable embrace of stone do most of the work.

    The man he was visiting deserved nothing more. At times, Darius wondered if he¡¯d be best kept behind bars, too. Out of his many sins, his past association with the Order, even unwitting, was unforgiveable. No, that fire would not die down until he had heaped coals back onto their heads. Nathariel was not the man, but he would become a link.

    Oh, he could ask all about their operations, their structure, their goal. He could interrogate nicely. But all of that would be moot if their members¡¯ reputation for devotion had any credence. The setback experienced by the killing of Eltanin was too great and put the Empire, and Amaleron¡¯s hopeful plan, at risk.

    No, the Order was about to learn that wrath rises out of ruin.

    Darius passed the final checkpoint into the silent earth. This cell seemed purpose-built to cut-off communication, light, hope, everything.

    Captain¡ªno, former Captain Nathariel sat in shadow at the end of a musty, cracked hallway. Chains rattled as the prisoner shifted to meet his visitor.

    Darius approached, sending ominous echoes along the prison¡¯s walls. Rats scurried away and knocked a bucket over. The Amarant unclasped Blackfrost and set it in front of him with a thud.

    ¡®You¡¯re wasting your time,¡¯ Nathariel said without looking up. He pulled his rodent-chewed blanket closer and turned away with a clink of metal.

    ¡®I tend not to do that,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®Call it Kerenan efficiency.¡¯

    Nathariel did not say anything, but Darius could feel the prisoner narrow his eyes, try to gauge the game he was playing. Fortunately, the Amarant was not playing.

    ¡®Will you speak?¡¯ Darius asked, fondling Blackfrost¡¯s hilt.

    Nathariel dragged himself forward into torchlight and spat. ¡®Never,¡¯ he asserted. Utter contempt was written on his face, dirty as it was.

    ¡®That makes what I am about to do very easy.¡¯ Darius stepped forward, gripping Blackfrost tightly. He lifted the blade effortlessly. The kill came quickly. Blood flowed freely.

 Chapter Twenty-two - This Falling Dread

    Silence.

    Midnight stirred awake.

    Endless silence.

    She wept.

    Dark in the endless silence.

    Alone.

    Silent in the endless dark.

    Nothing left.

    Endless dark.

    Everything had ended.

    Dark.

    * * *

    Clouds laden with moon-glow shone onto a dark sea stretching like an endless, rippled carpet. Fuzzy stars, arrayed in their bleary golden dress, guided a lone vessel treading these waters with a shine one could almost touch.

    And in this velvet light, the assassin paced a silent deck.

    The Moonbreaker, true to its name, sliced across the waves bearing the image of their lunar light-giver. Its ragged sails breathed with a furious wind, driving onward, onward though it seemed there was nowhere to go on this vast, vast ocean.

    They had left the rosy-pink cliffs of Sheneh-Adrani behind, and there were no shapes on the horizon anymore. There was merely the great, encircling line to see, but all it said was that you were nowhere and the sea was everywhere.

    These sights bored Umariel now. To break up the monotony, the assassin played with a wooden trinket. Today, he favoured a set of cleverly-interlinked cubes. Half acute puzzle, half mindless distraction, they clicked along in his hands with the breaking of the waves.

    His mind was elsewhere. Not on the sea, or their destination, not even on the task ahead. It was on what was to come after. The assassin had never expected the storm would end, but here he was, longing to see the bright rays after the rain. It did not seem right to one who was to be shadow, only shadow.

    He began a song. A song, lost in the wind, lost to the waves.

    Your eyes afire with glint of stars and moon

    One moment dark and keen as veiling night

    The next alive with song and piercing light

    I¡¯m broken when their gaze departs too soon

    Your lips ablaze with hint of salt and rune

    One moment close and sweet as magic¡¯s bite

    The next afar and locked with shutters tight

    I¡¯m broken when their touch provides no boon

    Encompassed in the assassin¡¯s tune were the steady tides and the perfect, balanced motions of the world: the sea in sway, encircling clouds, and the stars in all their constant light. The rest of the crew was unseen, unheard, so Umar had no human audience. But a growl that was almost music echoed back, beneath the ship. Tiama was somewhere in the water, he knew. How many other denizens were there in the deep below, perhaps escorting the vessel through this featureless embrace?

    ¡®She likes singing, did you know that?¡¯ a voice asked. A voice that cut through the night¡¯s mist and the cold which had fallen and threatened to touch all with its snapping, curious fingers.

    Umar turned, heart aflutter. He felt stupid. Before, there was no end to the road his heart had put him on, like a map with no markers. But now, there was clarity and purpose.

    And all at once she fell into focus. Beneath her cowl, Fr¨¬ri?l¡¯s eyes and cheeks were lit up by starshine. Hints of her red hair peeked like autumn leaves. The night seemed to give way around her as she stepped forward.

    Umar collected himself. ¡®Riri, you¡¯re supposed to be resting.¡¯

    ¡®I did, and now I¡¯m restless. And you¡¯re not supposed to call me¡ª¡¯

    ¡®I know,¡¯ he said, hands up in defeat. ¡®I never learn.¡¯

    Fr¨¬ri?l focused on the wooden object in his hand. ¡®Still playing with your silly toys, I see.¡¯

    ¡®No, tonight I have something much better.¡¯ Umar stepped over to her. In a flash, the trinket disappeared in the pockets of his coat and his hand produced a rose. He held it out to her.

    ¡®A rose for your rumination, Fr¨¬ri?l?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m not a cow, Umar!¡¯ she snapped.

    Umar laughed. ¡®I mean no offense, Princess of Seas and Serpents.¡¯

    Fr¨¬ri?l beamed. ¡®You are learning.¡¯ Her voice softened. ¡®But I have been wondering¡­¡¯

    In the brief silence that followed, the stillness of the sea and night were heightened. An echo of Tiama¡¯s song rolled in like a distant bell. Rope and sail creaked.

    ¡®¡­Where will we live, once this is all over?¡¯ she asked. The look in her eyes dimmed the stars.

    ¡®In the loftiest storey of the tallest tower on the highest mountain, so we can see the whole world spread before us on that farthest shore.¡¯

    ¡®Is there such a place?¡¯

    ¡®Sure. Beyond this Black Sea where corsairs run rampant, many fathoms across the ocean. To the north, past all the lands whose names we know. We¡¯ll find it.¡¯

    ¡®Where will Tiama live? Will she be with us?¡¯

    ¡®Your crazy serpent-fish can live in a bowl.¡¯

    Riri pounded his shoulder. ¡®That¡¯s not funny.¡¯

    Umar could barely contain a burst of laughter. ¡®I kid, of course. Yes, princess, your pet will be with us. We¡¯ll have whatever we desire.¡¯

    Fr¨¬ri?l smiled. ¡®We¡¯ll be fire and shadow still.¡¯

    Umar nodded. Fr¨¬ri?l took the rose from his hand. Her tender touch burned his chilled fingers.

    ¡®We¡¯ll be more than that,¡¯ Umar said. ¡®More than endless flame and prolonged dark. More than we¡¯ve ever been.¡¯

    Umar cupped his hand around hers. He pressed the rose closer to her chest. This fragile token was given her as affirmation that she could be beautiful and gentle. Umar wished he could say as much. He wished he could say she did not have to be as she was that day¡­

    The sky had closed in around Ralinesh, a forsaken island in the west none cared to map. Clouds loomed with dark but empty threats. The weather scowled at the new arrivals.

    Heedless, Lord Despreaux stepped off the Moonbreaker. His feet tromped marsh as he beckoned Umariel to follow. The assassin obeyed, sinking knee-deep into mud as he hopped off the solid gangplank. As he left the vessel, he could not help but be impressed by the ease with which Despreaux had moored it. Without crew or aid, his immense lifeforce pushed the ship along. The Moonbreaker sailed at his will. Rightly was he called the Lord of the Sea. Sometimes, Umariel wondered why Despreaux even kept others around. But it was not the time to dwell on this. He simply counted himself lucky. Birds did not argue with a billowing wind. When such a force called, one simply followed.

    On the shore, they had donned cloak and hood to blend in with the island¡¯s sparse residents. Though Umariel did not know much, he was aware a sectarian society lived here, entrenched in their arcane and archaic ways. But more than not wishing to draw attention to himself, Umariel was glad when his lord hid his face. For he found that he could not look at him long, could not bear that unearthly face.

    Umariel focused elsewhere. As they touched down on firmer soil, they passed remnants of structures. They might have been orchards once, now mere rotten skeletons of wood and wire. Lichen-consumed stones filled in dysfunctional irrigation ditches. There was nothing remarkable about this place.

    ¡®Why are we here, my lord?¡¯ Umariel asked as the woods thickened ahead. No birds heralded their arrival. It was a forest bereft of joy, and the trees themselves were barren and sagged as if they had surrendered.

    Lord Despreaux did not look back as he answered. ¡®Where fire treads, ashes follow.¡¯ The captain grabbed overturned trunks and branches, snapping and turning them aside to clear a path. If his lord thought this was enough of an answer, Umariel had to accept it so.

    Between the cracking sounds, the assassin thought he heard other movements among the branches. There were echoes like the dim crackling from a fire he could not feel. How strange it felt to seem watched to one so used to stalking his prey.

    The island¡¯s first resident only met them after a half-hour hike through sylvan glade. Lord and servant chanced upon a settlement which bore the barest resemblance to a town. Here, a lanky mutt yapped and announced their entrance. A hunched figure stopped sweeping a dirty courtyard, dropped his implement, and approached.

    The man hailed them but he was not quite speaking to them. He looked at them, but his unfocused eyes did not quite take anything in.

    ¡®Are ye here to witness the Devouring? Glory be, glory be.¡¯ The man¡¯s head whipped from side to side erratically as he spoke. Whorls of wispy hair a colour even uglier than the sky bobbed as he did so.

    When Despreaux spoke, his voice sounded like the grave, like crushing water in the deep.

    ¡®There is glory of which you know nothing. But you can still be of use.¡¯ He drew his hood back.

    The man before them stopped twitching and twisting and cowered in his frame, though his other senses seemed as unreceptive as before. The dog shrunk back and was silenced.

    Trembling, the man opened his mouth. His voice was changed. ¡®The serpent wakes, the eagle swoops, the boar slumbers.¡¯

    The man went stone-still but kept talking, as if someone else were moving his lips.

    ¡®A star shines. A star shone. A star¡­ will shine? A star is gone.¡¯

    The man¡¯s next words were broken by fits of laughter.

    ¡®But sparks ¨C sparks remain ¨C remain to light ¨C light calls darkness ¨C darkness rewards ¨C rewards the faithful ¨C faithful dragon, dragon, dragon.¡¯

    The man fell to his knees and breathed hard, showering spittle over Despreaux¡¯s boots. He looked up with newfound eyes and said, ¡®You are of the dragon. Glory be, glory be.¡¯

    The captain simply stepped over the man, seemingly pleased with what he had extracted out of this simple villager. Umariel, moved by some deep-seated pity, helped the man to his feet.

    ¡®Thank you,¡¯ Umar said, uncertain what he was thankful for.

    The man pushed something into Umariel¡¯s hand, reverently, as one would pass on an heirloom. The assassin felt something sinuous and furry in his palm. Looking down, he recoiled and nearly dropped his gift.

    A small rodent lay in his hand, wheezing a tiny wheeze, alive but clearly suffering.

    ¡®Best one around,¡¯ the man explained. ¡®Not dead. Not dead. Still good.¡¯

    ¡®What is this for?¡¯ Umariel asked.

    The man leaned in close and whispered, ¡®They watch.¡¯

    Then he simply shrieked with laughter and patted the assassin on the shoulder with bony fingers. ¡®Glory be, glory be.¡¯

    Disturbed, but not wishing to affront the island¡¯s morbid sensibilities, Umariel wrapped the item in a small cloth and pocketed it. He wiped his hand on his cloak and joined his master up ahead. Together, they left the man behind them as they went on. The villager returned to his fruitless sweeping, in coughs and spasms. Then they were over a hill and the man was gone.

    The path out of the village was better-tended but still bore displays of the island¡¯s peculiar ways. Fences and signposts carried strange mementos. In other places, decomposing remains hung up on mouldering stakes. Umariel could not tell if they were animal or human. Other fetid offerings were left around these altars, and the whole affair was disturbing, even to one such as Umariel.

    As a killer, first awakened and then trained, Umariel had spent many nights justifying his outlook and operation, and knew many would perceive him as unhinged. And still he encountered perspectives and styles of life which baffled him. At least there was a rightness to what he did ¨C life had beginnings and endings. There was dignity in his trade, not defilement. If he was a tool in the hands of those qualified to determine when life deserved its closure, he would be proud. For he had learned the hard way he could not trust his own judgment in such matters.

    As if reading his thoughts, the captain spoke. ¡®This night, you will be tested, Umariel. Flit not, my shadow, though the flame ahead be bright. Do you understand?¡¯

    Umariel was honest. ¡®No, my lord. How could I?¡¯

    ¡®Good,¡¯ came the reply. ¡®To claim understanding before a trial would be arrogant. Resolve is what I seek. Knowledge will come later.¡¯

    The next hours passed in silence as grey haze darkened into black. They crossed over grassy knolls, not tall or difficult to traverse of themselves, but the hills seemed to scrape the murmuring sky. With each summit, the faint sound of the ocean grew fainter. Night fell.

    Enclosed by the sea, enclosed by the dark, Umariel sensed this island was cursed. He knew it as sure as he knew there were eyes in the shadow watching him. Though, there were no other visible inhabitants around other than frazzled animals which took shelter in grey bowers and sparse thistles.

    At length, after the road became straighter, twinkling lights shone ahead, but they were not stars. In the cloudy night, torch-fire from a village down the road came into view. They entered through a collapsed gate. Voices rose.

    If this was the capital of the island, it was not much improvement on the previous village. The same rotting log-cabins and crumbling stone houses were arrayed around a central space. The same stink of animal permeated the air. A gathering was happening presently in the town square, and many villagers, chiefly men, were congregated around a bonfire. A few attendants were seeing to the fire, throwing on wood and stoking flames. The crowd pressed in closer.

    Despreaux and Umariel were funnelled nearer to the flame, but unheeded for now. The assassin¡¯s grip on his daggers tightened under his cloak. The flickering fire lit up a blur of faces beneath black hoods, all speaking or chanting, shoulder-to-shoulder. But for his size, Lord Despreaux blended in with the rest now that he had donned his hood again.

    Suddenly, he drew out an arm from beneath his cloak. His gloved hand held a shortsword. In the firelight, Umariel saw a serpentine handle and notches along its glinting edge. He took it and immediately felt the blade was not for him. It did not settle in his hands and would not answer him. It was cold and stone-heavy to the touch.

    ¡®It is time,¡¯ Despreaux said simply. Then he shrunk back and disappeared behind the crowd. Umariel was left alone in a sea of black hoods and dark faces. He hid the sword as well as he could before someone accosted him.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    ¡®It is time indeed,¡¯ one said. ¡®The Devouring comes.¡¯

    Umariel was herded still closer to the fire. All about him was orange and red, and there was naught that he could make out in the darkened distance.

    On a platform by the fire, someone stepped up and raised ringed fingers, stilling the chants of the congregation. Now that he was closer, Umariel could see that the ground had been dredged out and the flames filled a pit. The speaker stood as if on a bridge over a burning moat.

    ¡®Malady speaks, glory be, glory be,¡¯ said a voice from the crowd.

    The man called Malady motioned his hands to silence the crowd completely. He drew back his golden hood and the flame revealed a face riddled with warts and scars. One eye hung useless in a shrivelled patch of skin.

    ¡®Friends,¡¯ he said in a scratchy voice, ¡®acquaintances, and strangers,¡¯¡ªhe added with a glance to where Umariel stood¡ª¡®Welcome. Welcome.

    ¡®You stand on the precipice of glory. We are the chosen who will wake the Dragon, the Worldender of old, Breaker of Dreams, and Bringer of Desire.¡¯

    ¡®Glory be, glory be,¡¯ chanted the crowd.

    ¡®Such power has a price, of course. Such glorious girth requires a great sacrifice of lifeforce to stir its slumber.¡¯

    ¡®Glory be, glory be,¡¯ chanted the crowd.

    ¡®But you will be rewarded upon His awakening. Crops and bounty, pleasure and wealth, all yours, all yours.¡¯

    ¡®Glory be, glory be!¡¯ chanted the crowd.

    Malady signalled with his hand. Red-cloaked men appeared around the fire, plainly armed. They directed the crowd into file and had them pass by the fire. Each villager threw in a bundle into the flames, some a pet or other household animals, others hunted game and such acquisitions. The bleat and shriek of animals was unbearable.

    It was Umariel¡¯s turn by the fire. He paused by the burning pit. A red-cloaked guard stepped up, menacing. ¡®What will you offer?¡¯

    Umariel reached into his pouch and produced the small rodent. He looked it at with pity, and with sickness in his heart. Then he threw the writhing creature into the flames.

    As he turned from the fire and followed the members who had laid down their living offerings, he felt empty. What was the point of this test? Was this success or failure? Lord Despreaux was still nowhere to be seen. He looked up at Malady, who was observing the sacrifices. He seemed dissatisfied. He wrung his hands together.

    Umariel scanned the assembled people for signs of his master but did not spot Despreaux¡¯s distinctive shape, and could not even feel his dreadful countenance watching. Umariel flicked his gaze over the crowd, but it only fell on empty face after empty face.

    Nearby, a drumline began, a deep thump-thump-thump which sounded like the earth¡¯s heartbeat. Malady raised his voice once more.

    ¡®It is not enough, friends,¡¯ he said. ¡®The Dragon desires more. Who among you shall be the one to offer more, and thus be greatly rewarded?¡¯

    As Malady continued his sermon and his rhetoric reached a crescendo, a group of hooded pallbearers came out of the darkness. On their shoulders, a bier carried a young girl, bound up and very much alive. Her hair was livid red, redder than the hungry fire. Fear was in her wet, pale eyes.

    The pallbearers continued their funeral march toward the flames.

    ¡®Yes, the Dragon shall feast,¡¯ Malady said, hungry as a beast himself. ¡®The Dragon takes what once lived to live once more!¡¯

    ¡®Glory be, glory be,¡¯ chanted the crowd.

    The lovely girl on her pyre was brought forward, a living effigy in a senseless ritual. Somewhere, a wailing mother could be heard.

    Umariel acted before he knew what he was doing. He pushed through the stream of people, shoved his way to the front. One of the pallbearers grunted as Umariel clambered onto his shoulders and then onto the wooden bier.

    The crowd gasped and Malady stopped mid-sentence. The girl on the bier eyed him with suspicion and a muffled cry escaped her lips. In a blink, before anyone could react, Umariel drew his wintry daggers and cut the girl¡¯s bonds.

    ¡®Burn them!¡¯ Malady growled.

    The fire was close. Umariel could feel the testing touch of its heat. As the platform under their feet started to sway, he handed the shortsword to the girl. She took it with startled, trembling hands.

    The girl screamed as the bier was thrown into the furnace. But it was not a cry of fear or helplessness. It was the roar of a prisoner who had been given the tools to fight back.

    And oh, did she fight back.

    The scream of an explosion cut through all voices, animal and human. Umariel fell into the pit and braced himself for burning impact. But the fire did not come. He landed in singed but quite unburning piles of smouldering wicks. He rolled to a stop and looked up.

    The girl with red hair was standing amid flame. Torrents of fire streamed around her and into the length of the blade in her hands. The worst of the flames had been diverted from where the pallbearers had collapsed and now shot upward and outward.

    The bonfire had become a fountain of flame, and the girl was the spout.

    ¡®Get them!¡¯ Malady yelled.

    The red-hoods began moving. She screamed again. Umariel covered his eyes as a blinding arm of fire erupted and engulfed the platform on which Malady was standing. The last thing he saw was the mad priest¡¯s one shocked and startled eye. Four of the red-hooded guards dropped their weapons and ran madly, their clothes aflame.

    Umariel climbed out of the pit. The girl, with more vocal but illegible commands, directed the flames to sprout once more and pursue some who had begun fleeing. Like a many-headed serpent, the fire obeyed.

    More red-hooded fanatics approached, weapons drawn. Those who passed the barriers of fire tried to strike her down. The girl fought back with her own sword. Her motions were crude, but her aim and strength sure. The assailants collapsed by her side, as the fire and blood continued to flow.

    Umariel dared to run closer to her. ¡®How are you doing this?¡¯ he asked.

    The girl turned on him, her eyes burning bright and angry. She struck him with her sword. Umariel brought up his daggers to absorb the blow and was knocked back into the dirt.

    Those villagers and attendants that had not fled now turned their attention to Umariel. ¡®This is your fault,¡¯ they drawled. ¡®Inglorious, inglorious, you will die.¡¯ They raised pitchforks and hoes, clubs and spades.

    Umariel coughed as smoke covered the town square. He fended them off with daggers. He felt sorry as weak villagers fell, one after the other. More blood spilled this tainted ground.

    More screams came from the girl. Her voice was ragged and giving out, but the fire flared and her sword danced. She took vengeance on any and all who crossed her, took vengeance on the land that had robbed her of life and would have robbed her of breath. In her hands, that cursed blade belonged. The shortsword was alight and alive.

    That day, the fire consumed more wretched folk than were felled by the blade.

    Then the girl started to limp and stumble. Her screams stopped and the fires dwindled. Cowering villagers and guards came out from behind posts and walls. Retribution was in their eyes. They stepped out onto blackened, charred cobblestone.

    Umariel made his choice. He ran to the girl. As a villager raised a hammer to strike the girl down, Umariel¡¯s daggers snuck their way to the man¡¯s throat.

    The fire died down, and the raging bonfire behind them seemed a weak flicker now. Umariel¡¯s eyes took a moment to adjust to the growing darkness. The girl had collapsed, sword in hand. Before other villagers came near, he picked her up. She was feather-light but warm, like holding embers.

    ¡®Give us the girl,¡¯ they said. ¡®Return the Offering.¡¯ But they had made no move to take her by force. They seemed snapped out of their stupor and some semblance of rationality returned. Whether deterred by Umariel¡¯s show of strength or the memory of the girl¡¯s rage, they stayed put.

    He carried her and ran through those muck-filled streets. No footsteps followed. He ran away from fire and into blackness.

    But as Umariel rounded a corner, he felt a blow on his side and a sharp sting. He collapsed, dropping the girl and their weapons. He felt his bleeding shoulder as he righted himself to catch his assailant.

    Malady crept out of some dark crevice, his cloak torn and burnt, his face charred and even more disfigured. He carried a gilded knife, wet with fresh blood.

    ¡®The Devouring must go on,¡¯ he said. ¡®The Shadow must be fed.¡¯

    Umariel felt for his daggers but they had fallen from their holsters. In the dark, he could not see them.

    Malady rushed at him. With no time to grope around for a weapon, Umariel faced the mad priest. Malady¡¯s skill was no match for his fervour, and Umariel easily knocked the priest¡¯s hand aside. He stepped around as Malady charged.

    Then Umariel noticed that Malady was not making for him. With a jolt of terror, Umariel sprang after the priest and tackled him before the knife came down where the girl was laying. Assassin and priest tumbled to the ground in the dark. Umariel fastened his hands around Malady¡¯s neck. He tightened his grip. He strangled the priest until his life drained out and he was eased into the fathomless abyss.

    ¡®Glory be, glory be,¡¯ Umariel said softly.

    After he finally let go, the assassin heaved himself against a wall and breathed. He breathed again, feeling life. He was not sure why he had acted so this night. But it was right. That he knew.

    Above, overcast skies became thick with clouds of smoke and ash. Dawn arrived, but the light barely broke through the dense layer of smog.

    In the spilled light, Umariel saw Malady¡¯s lifeless body and the unconscious girl. He recalled her sad eyes in the midst of fire and blood. She was so young, barely fifteen, perhaps. She reminded him of another red-headed girl, standing shattered in fiery wreckage.

    The sword was still in her hands.

    Umariel got up, collected his daggers, and prepared to leave. He knew that with break of day, villagers would come searching again, their vigour and cultic determination renewed. What to do about the girl?

    Heavy footsteps sounded nearby. Umariel spun, only to see Lord Despreaux approaching. So this had been a test, indeed.

    ¡®Well done, my shadow,¡¯ he said. What pleasure could be discerned in his master¡¯s voice was drowned by the grating, salty force of the ocean in it.

    The girl stirred. She came to and breathed hard. She scrambled up against the nearest wall. Her brilliant hair was flecked with dirt, but her eyes were keen and alert.

    ¡®Do you like your sword?¡¯ Despreaux asked. ¡®Its name is Denethris. You may keep it.¡¯

    The girl suddenly frowned and sprang to her feet, weapon in hand. She yelled and charged at Lord Despreaux, point of her blade out. The pirate grabbed the weapon with his glove and stopped the girl in her tracks. She grunted with effort, trying to drive the blade into Despreaux¡¯s body.

    ¡®What is your name?¡¯ he asked.

    The girl hesitated. ¡®Fr¨¬ra,¡¯ she said at last.

    ¡®You are a bright flame, Fr¨¬ra. What would you most like to have in this world?¡¯

    ¡®I have nothing,¡¯ she spat. ¡®My mother is dead. If I lived, she wouldn¡¯t. That was the arrangement. So now I¡­ now I¡­¡¯

    ¡®It¡¯s lonely when there¡¯s no one left to fight, isn¡¯t it?¡¯

    Fr¨¬ra did not reply.

    ¡®Come with me, and I will give you enemies to fight.¡¯

    Fr¨¬ra¡¯s grip on her sword slackened.

    ¡®And then, you will have true rest.¡¯

    Fr¨¬ra let her hand loosen. Despreaux released the sword, and it dropped to the girl¡¯s side.

    ¡®My fire. My Fr¨¬ri?l.¡¯

    Lord Despreaux turned and left, cape trailing. The girl fell to her knees. It was as if she only now noticed the priest¡¯s corpse nearby. She growled, and hacked at it with her new weapon ¡®til it was red and raw. Then she tossed the blade aside and threw her hands up to her hair. She let out a whimpered choke through a tightened throat.

    Umariel drew closer. ¡®Here,¡¯ he said. But it was not the weapon that he handed her. Into her hands, he passed a set of wooden rings wed to a metal chain. The rings clinked and entwined about themselves when pulled.

    ¡®You just want it to be over, don¡¯t you?¡¯ he asked.

    Fr¨¬ri?l¡¯s eyes flashed, but she took the assassin¡¯s toy. She looked at him. Something of the storm inside this girl was quelled.

    ¡®Come, Fr¨¬ri?l,¡¯ said Umariel. ¡®Your new life is waiting.¡¯

    A wave crashed, and Umariel was back on the Moonbreaker. The imagined fire, dust, and smoke dissipated. It was clear and cool now, and the solitary moon shone bright like a proud pearl set in a sapphire sky. Fr¨¬ri?l was still next to him.

    They were leaving Despreaux¡¯s Domain presently and crossed into still and peaceful oceans, a strange band which formed a cleft between the waters of the Lord of the Sea and the rest of the world.

    Behind them chaos. Calm ahead of them. And a song which parted wake and waves before them. Umariel sang these secret words now.

    None would breach the road to Sheneh-Adrani. And none were now prepared for their arrival. Storm and blade. Fire and shadow.

    That is who Umariel was. A force made by forces yet greater.

    But in all this, he told himself that even though he had been driven into that dreadful night, pulled along by powers higher than himself, it was his will and choice that carried him along. The assassin told himself that saving Fr¨¬ra was the first thing he had ever done right of his own accord.

    Below, Tiama was still singing.

    * * *

    Sanah¡¯?l peered out of her safehouse window like a rat out of a hole. A tide had passed since her encounter with the Imperial emissaries. She knew not what had befallen them, and she did not care. Short work for the short-lived. All that concerned her now was that she should not be seen emerging. But time was of the essence, as Lady Isila would shortly be expecting a report covering what had transpired on the surface. The Empire¡¯s sniffing out of the Order¡¯s trail was bothersome, as was Shurun¡¯el¡¯s less-than-satisfactory covering of his tracks. She cursed her carelessness and her little brother¡¯s rashness. But she would not sit idle. It was time to rectify mistakes.

    More promising was Nathariel¡¯s engagement with the targets at Taeladran. A dangerous assignment, but she had high hopes for the man¡¯s capabilities. Sanah smiled to herself. There was more than one reason to rendezvous with Nathariel before setting out for the sky again.

    Outside, nothing moved in the mustard-coloured morning. She drew the musty curtains shut. Her things were packed and ready for departure. With thoughts heavier than her baggage, Sanah picked up sword, shield, satchel, and cloak.

    She passed through a couple of false walls and down concealed staircases before stepping out to a dim foyer of sorts. The best part of Sanaros¡¯ shifting suburbs was that many places fell into disuse and were forgotten. Such derelict hideouts became dens for the crafty and attentive. And such services could be purchased by those wishing to remain unseen. Dark was the economy which kept this unhallowed placed turning.

    ¡®I was never here,¡¯ Sanah¡¯?l said, dropping a few coins on the counter on her way out.

    ¡®For a couple more, I won¡¯t even know your name, love,¡¯ said the greasy-haired woman at the bench.

    Sanah¡¯?l scowled, but complied. A fair price for fair service. Getting messages out to Despreaux¡¯s Domain and Borboros¡¯ Den via trusted agents was costly work. The risk of exposure was paid in gold.

    ¡®Thank you, whoever you are,¡¯ the woman said.

    Now outdoors, Sanah¡¯?l kept to out-of-the-way passages and narrow alleys. She knew to recognise the secure paths from those frequented by the truly undesirable. From here, it was a straight shot (meanly speaking) to the docks and then on to brighter, broader lands over sea.

    But winds rarely blow the way one wishes. And on one such inscrutable wind, Sanah¡¯?l caught voices of interest. She deviated from her path to a courtyard in the cold morning, where two men, barely recovered from a night of drink (from the slur in their voices) were gossiping about things beyond their grasp and influence. She stuck like shadow to a wall and listened.

    ¡®Darius has gon¡¯ mad, they say,¡¯ said an inebriated voice.

    ¡®A minute! Who is they, do ya ever wonder?¡¯ said a second, more shrill but no less drunk.

    ¡®Whoever they is, they is always got the mos¡¯ interestin¡¯ things t¡¯say.¡¯

    ¡®Ain¡¯t that right. So wha¡¯ was this about Darius?¡¯

    ¡®Right. So, it turns out he offed some important fellow up north, not a tide back or so. Right gruesom¡¯ it was.¡¯

    ¡®But he¡¯s one of them Amrans, what¡¯s he doin¡¯ doin¡¯ somethin¡¯ like that?¡¯

    ¡®Right. But y¡¯forget he¡¯s Kerenan. His blood is right old mad, it is. It ain¡¯t the first time he¡¯s killed quick and cold.¡¯

    ¡®Ye¡¯re the mad one, I says.¡¯

    ¡®No, truly. It¡¯s all up at the Hunched Dragon. Go an¡¯ see.¡¯

    The other man grunted. There was a clink of bottles and a swig.

    ¡®The talk¡¯s darker, though,¡¯ said the first voice again, after a beverage-filled pause. ¡®They say Darius is interested in th¡¯Order, if y¡¯can believe.¡¯

    ¡®Oi, now ye¡¯re getting¡¯ right queer. We ain¡¯t supposed to talk about that.¡¯

    ¡®Right. But if that blade-for-brains Darius is after th¡¯Order and wants t¡¯join¡­ he¡¯d be right deadly, he¡¯d be.¡¯

    ¡®Darius, leavin¡¯ the Empire?¡¯

    ¡®Why not? A wolf looks out for none but heself.¡¯

    ¡®Ye¡¯re addled, man.¡¯

    Clearly fed up with his companion¡¯s gossip, the second man left. Sanah¡¯?l heard his stumbling footsteps fade. The first man whistled a tortured, one-note tune and walked away also. She peeked out from her vantage point by the crumbling, stony wall to make sure they had gone.

    Another distraction, another wrinkle. Darius back on Sanaros? Impossible. But there still may be something of import to the drunkard¡¯s words. Sanah¡¯?l weighed her options. She started to suspect that one¡¯s mettle could be measured not in how well plans were laid, but how tactfully one dealt with delays and deviations. The last time she had chased a lead, it resulted in bruises and a narrow escape. She sighed and hoped for better. Hoped that this was an opportunity.

    Sanah¡¯?l changed course. Her cloak flapped like a sail in headwind. Switching directions, she took shadowed byways toward the district housing the inn.

    It was barely eighth watch when Sanah¡¯?l stepped over the inn¡¯s threshold. So much for being discrete. But straight away, heeding the drunkard¡¯s words seemed to have paid dividends. The crowd was denser than usual, and many people were packed around one of the counters. It was not for drink that they were gathered, however. The stench was worse than usual, and it was not just mead which wafted.

    Barely an eye fell on to Sanah¡¯?l as she made her entrance. Nervous chatter was in the air and glances shifted and fell.

    ¡®This ain¡¯t right,¡¯ someone said.

    ¡®Deserved better,¡¯ came the snippet of another¡¯s conversation.

    As people parted and moved around, a chest fell into view on the benchtop. The box was of a dried and splintery wood, in worse condition than the oft-used counter. It was no larger than a crate of ale, but the dark faces gathered around it took the simple object as an omen.

    ¡®He really means to do it,¡¯ one said.

    Sanah¡¯?l¡¯s footsteps rang loudly in her ears as she approached. A dread fell on her that she could not explain. Someone near the box was holding a parchment of sorts, reading. Others looked on and shook their heads.

    ¡®Enough gawking!¡¯ cried the bartender. ¡®We don¡¯t know what this is, so don¡¯t go off flappin¡¯ more than you rightly know!¡¯

    ¡®Then move it off, man!¡¯ a grumble arose. ¡®Some of us want to drink here!¡¯

    ¡®An¡¯ be cursed thrice over?¡¯ the bartender said, raising an eyebrow at the dissenter. ¡®I ain¡¯t touchin¡¯ it!¡¯

    Whatever the complaining man believed about curses, he made no further move.

    Sanah¡¯?l got closer.

    At last, as the bartender successfully shooed away some onlookers, Sanah¡¯?l saw inside the open-topped container.

    It was a human head.

    Russet curls.

    A pale and once lovely face, crusted with blood.

    Indigo eyes, lifeless, twisted, and still.

    Nathariel¡¯s head.

    Her dear Nathariel.

    Sanah shuffled back, knocking over stools. In the chatter which ensued, no one noticed her. She collapsed and found herself in her own embrace, wishing it was Nathariel¡¯s strong arms which held her. She closed her eyes, and tried to imagine him as he had been. But the horrid image in the chest is all she could see.

    Through her tears, her sunstone eyes burned with hatred.

    ¡®Who did this?¡¯ Sanah mouthed the words, but could not speak. ¡®Who took him?¡¯

    As if in answer, one of the bystanders waved the nearby note.

    ¡®This surely bears his mark,¡¯ he said. The man seemed to be promoting a theory, and some who looked on appeared convinced.

    Sanah raised her head and strained to see through her crystalled vision. She averted her gaze from the box with all her strength.

    A scuffle broke out in disagreement. Someone knocked the parchment out of the holder¡¯s hands and it fell to the ground and settled like a leaf. Sanah read the short, cursive writing.

    Unworthy.

    D.

    A word burnt itself in her mind, alongside the image of her departed lover. A name.

    Darius.

    Darius.

    DARIUS.

    ¡®Pardon, miss,¡¯ the bartender said as he bent to pick up the note and took notice of Sanah slumped over, defeated. ¡®Are you alright?¡¯ She noticed a small bronze article tucked into the bartender¡¯s waistcoat pocket. Nathariel¡¯s brooch, twin to the one she had lent a tide earlier, down to the design bearing an eagle in flight.

    The bartender began to speak again, something about being sorry for having such a morbid token on display, something about sincerely wishing to close business but needing the coin from strong-stomached patrons. Sanah did not really listen. She rose and thanked the bartender for his concern, and swiped the brooch from his pocket. Then she left the blasted inn, feeling tricked a second time.

    It seemed a silent day. Sanah reached the docks not hearing the froth of the waves, not smelling the salt of the sea, not feeling the blow of the breeze.

    The thin and leery boatswain from earlier awaited. She hopped aboard.

    ¡®Do you have it?¡¯ Sanah asked.

    The boatman produced a small item in his wrinkled hands. Sanah retrieved the brooch which had bought the poor boys¡¯ passage and fixed it to her shoulder.

    ¡®Where do you go?¡¯ he croaked.

    Sanah thought of the Dragon¡¯s Eye, that fortress which awaited. ¡®Ashore,¡¯ she said simply.

    The boat took off, cutting a small wake in the large, grey ocean and setting out into mist.

    Nathariel was gone. What had been left behind in that box was just a shell, a vessel. She hoped his spirit was flying free over kinder seas. She brought together the two bronze articles in her hand¡ªher own brooch and Nathariel¡¯s. It was the closest she could ever be to him again.

    Distractions, indeed. Opportunities, perhaps. Recompense, certainly. The trap would be sprung. The Empire¡¯s hope would be broken. And if Sanah took down the Empire¡¯s proud mascot while she herself fell, it would be a small, cold comfort. An Eye for an eye.

 Chapter Twenty-three - Bonds Unbroken

    At first wink of dawn, by the light of a lilac sky, the Imperial company set out from Taeladran. Thankfully, the group did not encounter any rannakim on the way back. In fact, they barely encountered anything at all beyond the barren rocks and sparse desert-plants, which made the return trip particularly bland. Still, it was at least conducive for sombre reflection.

    Asphales trotted along on his horse, accompanied by four others. Downcast and downhearted were they all. Though the day ahead was bright and clear, and the rising sun threw back the eastern mountain-teeth¡¯s shadows, a gloom hung around the company and words were little spoken.

    With Lord Elan dead, and his murderer also silenced, the decision had been made to return. They had left the city in failure and embarrassment. For not only did they have to contend with the shortcutting of the mission, but also with Darius¡¯ perplexing actions. Asphales glanced over at the Amarant on his black steed. The man¡¯s face was unreadable.

    Kasil had taken over the captainship and effective leadership of the city. Though he assured Darius that a thorough review of the city guard would be undertaken and relations with Fara¡¯ethar would remain friendly, he had been forced to compel the Empire¡¯s representatives to leave. Asphales wondered how much longer he would have stayed and how much more he could have learned. Just when he had felt a glimmer of hope against the dark, it seemed the shadow¡¯s servants were a step ahead. The one who had sparked that hope was now buried beneath a cairn topped with a sapphire cenotaph.

    As the day turned and the company cleared the dry and narrow passes between Taeladran¡¯s lowlands and the rolling fields leading to Fara¡¯ethar, Asphales found the tide of his thoughts drifting to Ad¨¦lia. He tried to understand. She was homesick for a home she could not return to. He had to admit, he was not too fond of his own home, but to be so ripped away from nourishment was surely worse. And to carry such a burden, a blackness whose grip she could not slip, was something he could not imagine.

    And so his thoughts swirled, from Ad¨¦lia¡¯s revelations, to Darius¡¯ fierce and sudden action. And all throughout, the Elder¡¯s final words swept through him like a small wind which nudged from within. He tried to hold on to the fact that, somehow, Eltanin had desired this, but it was little consolation in his absence.

    It took a while for Asphales to notice that he could no longer hear all the other mounts¡¯ trotting steps behind him. He had gone on as his shadow lengthened and a perfect, golden evening settled on sky and land alike. Someone caught up to him.

    ¡®Lad, we¡¯re about to stop for a break.¡¯ Amarant Darius¡¯ voice.

    Asphales reined in his steed and looked back. The setting sun¡¯s light could not brighten the darkness settled on the Amarant¡¯s face.

    ¡®I know we want to speed on to Fara¡¯ethar, and last time we went through here, our stay was not exactly pleasant. But El¡¯enur¡¯s found a nook up near those hills and we¡¯ll be safe for the night.¡¯

    That was not Asphales¡¯ concern.

    Darius sighed. ¡®I get the feeling there is something you wish to ask me. Speak your mind.¡¯

    ¡®Why did you do that?¡¯ Asphales asked. ¡®Isn¡¯t there always a better option? There has to be¡­¡¯ He trailed off, but there was no point hiding his candid query.

    Darius brought his horse closer, beside Asphales. He watched the sunset for a while without speaking.

    ¡®I admire your purity, Asphales,¡¯ he said. ¡®Perhaps there was, perhaps I could not see it. Still, our time is short and the situation dire. I realised only something drastic would bring the Order to attention. That¡¯s what I intended by my actions. Sometimes, one has to do what must be done, so others can do what should be done.¡¯

    Asphales started. ¡®But¡ª¡¯

    ¡®This is not to justify what I did. It is my judgment that I carried out what was necessary, but that may be flawed. I don¡¯t say this to seek excuse, only to explain the thoughts of an imperfect man who felt compelled to act. A man who will face his due consequence.¡¯

    It pained Asphales to hear such tortured thoughts, but it did not dull the callous nature of the warrior¡¯s actions. He thought of the prisoner in his cell, guilty though he was, felled by a wicked blade in dread and darkness.

    ¡®I can only hope,¡¯ Asphales began, ¡®that I can find another way.¡¯

    Darius smiled. ¡®You are a trustworthy man. I pray such a way unveils itself to you. I feel yet we are in good hands. For Lady Catena has even bestowed her true name upon you.¡¯

    Asphales shifted on his mount but did not know what to say.

    ¡®I noticed, lad. Up on Taeladran¡¯s mountain, you called her name. Something that precious could not have been easily taken nor lightly given.¡¯

    Asphales caught the Amarant¡¯s turquoise eyes, sharp as ice but not with harm intended for him.

    ¡®I cannot say I understand the bond between you fully. But it is a rare and wondrous thing, another thread I hold to tightly, knowing you two can be better. I stand fully behind you both.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you,¡¯ Asphales said.

    At once, Darius¡¯ horse snorted.

    ¡®That¡¯s a sure signal,¡¯ Darius said, chuckling. ¡®Mas¨¬lminur has had enough, and I dare say, so have you.¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯ve given me a lot to think about,¡¯ Asphales said.

    Darius clapped the younger man¡¯s shoulder. ¡®Well, come think on it with the others. Let¡¯s make camp.¡¯

    ¡®How did you come to know so much, to know where you stand?¡¯

    Darius turned his mount around. ¡®Asphales, a head full of wisdom is borne by a heart full of mistakes. It is for men like you that monsters like me hope their mistakes carve a path.¡¯

    The Amarant made for shelter. The black blade on his back hung heavy and drear.

    The group rode out early the next day. They awoke to a chill Kingsdell morning¡¯s bite. Morale was low and so with as little chatter as the day before, they packed the camp and set out. As they breakfasted on the last of their provisions, it was odd not to hear a quip from El¡¯enur, or compensatory laughter from the others. Asphales strapped on his armour. The metal gauntlets were cold to the touch.

    They rode faster this day. With a lowering moon at their back, the Imperial company sped on over hillocks and onto the familiar fields pocked with blackened earth. From the end of the Scarred Fields, they beheld Fara¡¯ethar in the distance and Asphales could tell ease began settling over the group.

    It was there, some leagues ahead of them. A crown upon a cliff. The rising sun shone onto the ocean beyond and Fara¡¯ethar glinted as if with the sparkle of jewels. Asphales had not spent long at the castle, but already it felt like coming home.

    Barely a watch of hard riding later and the company were galloping in toward the Lion Gate to the salute of armed men along the path. The mid-day sun stood watching, far above.

    ¡®Open the gate,¡¯ Darius called. ¡®Our coming is grave!¡¯

    Had it not been marred by the sorrow which seemed to be on their trail, Asphales would have gladly anticipated this return. Though the sight of castle¡¯s grey stone and lively alleys brought some relief, it was not in triumph that Asphales entered the castle. His heart felt heavier than the gate which scraped open.

    Darius charged in like an invader, then wheeled his steed around and hopped off. He summoned a nearby attendant. ¡®See to the horses, please,¡¯ he said. Then he turned to the others, who were still dismounting. ¡®I go to see Amaleron,¡¯ he said. ¡®Be ready for summons, all of you.¡¯

    ¡®I shall look for the company from Sanaros and advise them the same,¡¯ said Ad¨¦lia. She took off in a different direction.

    ¡®I shall pretend to be useful,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, more to himself, as he struggled with the stirrups. His dismounting was significantly less dignified than the two Amarants¡¯ had been.

    Asphales and Valinos came off their horses as well and handed the reins to Darius¡¯ appointed man. The attendant called for others and together, they led the company¡¯s mounts toward the stable. They were left with El¡¯enur in the middle of the courtyard, looking quite idle, as the castle¡¯s residents went about their tasks, some throwing hurried glances at the new arrivals. The archer was huffing and fiddling with his equipment.

    ¡®You get used to this,¡¯ he said. ¡®The Amarants running off like that, looking all important, and you¡¯re left with the luggage.¡¯

    ¡®El¡¯enur, I never thanked you properly,¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®A moment, Asphales,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, rubbing at his legs. ¡®I need to find a seat that won¡¯t move so much. My hind can only take so much battering.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m not sure if you speak of yourself,¡¯ Valinos said, ¡®or of how our fortunes have been of late.¡¯

    ¡®The discerning man may see many things in the words of the wise El¡¯enur,¡¯ said El¡¯enur as he sat on a stone bench in a patch of light.

    The three laughed then, and it was as if the dark curtain was drawn back, just a little. Asphales thought of Eltanin¡¯s encouragement to treasure the light moments, few as they may be.

    ¡®I can¡¯t imagine what would have happened if you had not shown up when you did on the balcony that night,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®We would have been set back even farther. So, thank you.¡¯

    El¡¯enur¡¯s shoulders slumped. ¡®I don¡¯t feel like I deserve your gratitude. I did all I could, but, well¡­¡¯ He closed his eyes and sighed. ¡®No, I suppose things could have been worse. Thank you, as well. I hope my actions were worth something. And at least we are now a fragment closer to the Elders¡¯ song. Do you feel different, Asphales?¡¯

    Valinos turned to his friend.

    ¡®I suppose I do,¡¯ Asphales began. ¡®I felt a welling of power that night and feel a lasting energy now.¡¯ He drew his blade and inspected it. ¡®I hope it is enough for what lies ahead.¡¯

    ¡®But will it be enough for that?¡¯ Valinos asked as he turned and pointed to a figure approaching.

    Asphales followed his friend¡¯s hand and chuckled as he noted Ithil¨¬r approaching. The master-servant walked calmly across the cobblestone courtyard, chin up and hands behind his back. Even from this distance, Asphales could tell the master-servant¡¯s eyes had located them. He was dressed in impeccable black and stepped with formality. He seemed more master than servant as he walked over. Beside him, Asphales recognised Ishak, pacing to keep up. Both men carried themselves with an air of stateliness, but whereas Ithil¨¬r¡¯s features seemed stiff and rigid, the sub-commander¡¯s were natural and inviting. Both men approached.

    ¡®Brace yourselves,¡¯ El¡¯enur said, rising from his seat.

    ¡®So, the rabble returns,¡¯ Ithil¨¬r said, halting in front of them. ¡®Darius¡¯ message relayed a grave coming, but you three seem anything but.¡¯

    ¡®I have missed you, Ithil¨¬r,¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®And I wish you would still,¡¯ the master-servant replied.

    Asphales laughed. ¡®How is my room?¡¯

    ¡®Cleaner than you had left it.¡¯

    ¡®That means you¡¯re doing your job,¡¯ El¡¯enur offered.

    Even Ishak snorted at that. He looked Asphales and Valinos over. ¡®You two seem more worn-in, older,¡¯ he said with a smile.

    ¡®Wiser, too, one hopes,¡¯ Ithil¨¬r added.

    ¡®Not you, El¡¯enur,¡¯ Ishak said, glancing over. ¡®You look the same.¡¯ His tone was playful.

    ¡®Thank you,¡¯ El said. ¡®I will take that as a compliment to my perfection.¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t make me laugh,¡¯ Ithil¨¬r said.

    ¡®I wish it would,¡¯ said Asphales. ¡®What do you look like when you laugh?¡¯

    ¡®I believe he is unable to do so,¡¯ Valinos said, joining in the jest, ¡®for a statue must keep up appearances.¡¯

    Ithil¨¬r did not react to these comments (which did not help to dispel the notion of him being a statue), but simply waited for the laughter to die down. ¡®When you are done being foolish, there are matters to attend to in the castle. Now that you are returned from your galivanting, there are errands which need attention. And I expect you all to be involved.¡¯

    ¡®Let them rest, man!¡¯ Ishak blurted. ¡®Barely a watch back and you pounce on them like one drawn to a bad smell.¡¯

    El¡¯enur gave the master-servant a deferential look then turned to Ishak. ¡®Before we do that, I¡¯d like to know if the others from Sanaros are back. Amarant Catena went off earlier to find them. Are they here?¡¯

    The brightness on Ishak¡¯s face dimmed. ¡®Yes, they are back. We sent Amarant Catena ahead to the Hall of Recovery.¡¯

    El¡¯enur did not wait for an escort. The archer ran ahead, weaving through the courtyard traffic.

    ¡®Are you lads coming?¡¯ Ishak asked.

    Asphales felt sick. The warriors of Fara¡¯ethar were his companions now, and the thought of them being injured¡ªor worse¡ªfor him and his quest was too much to bear.

    He nodded.

    * * *

    Darius knelt in the Hall of the Elders. The steward was before him, framed by thirteen statues and the arches circling the hall like laurels of stone. His presence filled the massive chamber. His face, so sage and serene usually, was downcast. Both anger and sadness were struggling for dominance on his creased and sweating brow.

    Darius felt like one awaiting a sentence. He had recounted the events in Taeladran, including the treachery of the guard captain and his own retaliation. Quiet now permeated the blue-grey light of the chamber, as Amaleron considered things.

    ¡®Heavy is the doom lain upon us,¡¯ Amaleron said. He paced the stone dais before the castle¡¯s empty throne. ¡®Eltanin, O Eltanin, how bright your star shone ere its sudden fall.¡¯ The steward was more speaking to himself. The light in his staff flared as it clacked along the dais.

    ¡®And so,¡¯ he continued, ¡®another fragment of the Ode is sung. Will you recite it for me, Amarant Darius?¡¯

    Darius closed his eyes. He could see the words when he focused, etched there in the dark. He could see other images too; a crumpled figure in a dungeon, a blade barely sated. The Amarant chose not to focus on those. He repeated the words, not as powerful as they had been on the lips of the dying Elder, but resonating nonetheless throughout the hall.

    The steward nodded. Solemnity washed over his face. ¡®The boy is not ready, and Amarant Catena suffers. Yet, we will trust in the design of Regulus.¡¯ Amaleron¡¯s words resounded in the chamber and he gazed up at the statue of Regulus, captured regal and ageless in the aged stone. No immediate answer or assurance came.

    ¡®What now?¡¯ Darius asked.

    ¡®We have learned a little from the division sent to Sanaros,¡¯ the steward said. ¡®We believe we have a new target. A direction, at least. A decisive push may be upon us, on to the Dragon¡¯s Eye. We shall convene shortly to arrange the necessary preparations.¡¯

    ¡®My companions,¡¯ Darius said, ¡®what befell them in Sanaros?¡¯

    The steward¡¯s eyes turned kindly. He bid the Amarant rise. ¡®You must see them yourself, Darius. They encountered trouble, and the information came at a cost.¡¯

    Something within Darius throbbed. He clenched his fists, thinking of the dangers of Sanaros.

    ¡®Now,¡¯ the steward said, turning to Darius. ¡®In the matter of your involvement at Taeladran.¡¯

    ¡®It is as you have heard. But I stress I acted alone in what I did. Spare the others in your judgment.¡¯

    ¡®I understand your actions but I cannot condone them. In this present crisis, you continue to be a valuable asset, I cannot deny that, Darius. Nevertheless, I must request that after this next assignment you step down from your position. Your status as Amarant shall be rescinded.¡¯

    Amaleron¡¯s words echoed like a distant thunderclap. So this was it. The hammer had fallen.

    Darius bowed.

    ¡®That is only fair compensation for my chosen course,¡¯ he said. ¡®I ask merely that I choose my successors.¡¯

    The steward¡¯s amber eyes were gentle and warm. Gentle as the day he had found them when the Empire rescued him like a lost pup. Filled with warmth such as he had not experienced in Kerena.

    ¡®It shall be so,¡¯ the steward said.

    Darius Inidir¨­n walked out of the Hall of the Elders with a lighter load on his shoulders. His days as an Amarant were coming to an end. And though the circumstances of his exit were not entirely commendable, he could leave better men in his stead. This age belonged now to the younger, the unstained.

    It also meant he could put some distance between himself and those he cared about when the fire rose to devour. For that day would come.

    For now, his life and assistance would still be given to the Empire, to his friends. Though the title may be taken from him, his oath of protection would not be nullified. So on he walked, head held high.

    The sun was westering as he reached the entrance to the Hall of Recovery and entered its cool shadows. Inside, lit torches in their sconces illuminated sea-green tiles leading to a dark, oakwood desk. Attendants quietly walked about, leafing through ledgers and reports before disappearing in the hallways beyond. Aromatic plants were laid about the foyer to disguise the smell of the sick and the bizarre scents of the remedies used within.

    At the counter, Darius inquired after Guldar Kene¡¯dorn and was directed to an eastern hallway. That is, after confirming his identity, leaving Blackfrost under their supervision, and filling out the appropriate paperwork, of course. Darius would certainly not miss these administrative trappings in his retirement.

    Bursting through a set of double-doors, Darius emerged into a waiting room lined with white walls and white benches. The others had already arrived. He noticed El¡¯enur first, pacing the room, looking frazzled. The archer¡¯s eyes lit up for a moment when the doors opened, but it was clearly not Darius he had been waiting for. On a bench beside him, Amarant Catena sat with Asphales and Valinos close by. The three were speaking quietly. She appeared more at ease, more connected.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Asphales seemed worried. If he had been allowed weapons in here, he surely would have been fidgeting with his new blade. Valinos was harder to read. Calm, but clearly occupied with his own thoughts, he looked over when Darius came in and gave a quick nod of acknowledgment.

    In the whitewashed light, the company¡¯s colours were accented. Though they were tired, the Amarant¡¯s scarlet hair, Asphales¡¯ brown locks, and the darker shades which covered most of Valinos¡¯ appearance looked all the more pronounced on them. Then there was El¡¯enur; golden-haired, navy-cloaked, and restless with impatient energy.

    ¡®Commander,¡¯ he called out. ¡®Glad you could make it. But not much has happened. We¡¯ve been waiting to see them as well.¡¯

    Just as he spoke, another door clicked open. A woman with her midnight-black hair swept by swirls of ocean blue walked in. Lady Nelesa gasped when she saw the gathering in the waiting room.

    The archer practically skipped over to her.

    ¡®El! You lived!¡¯ She ran to him and threw herself in his embrace. ¡®See, riding a horse was not so bad.¡¯ Darius was sure only El¡¯enur was deaf to the affection in her voice.

    ¡®Speak for yourself!¡¯ he said. ¡®What happened?¡¯

    The others stood up and looked on expectantly. Nelesa drew back from the archer¡¯s arms and glanced around at them, and then pursed her lips. ¡®Follow me,¡¯ she said.

    Turning back the way she had come, she led the group through a well-lit hallway lined with wooden doors. Passing through another double-doored barrier, Nelesa took them outdoors along a tiled passageway down the hall¡¯s courtyard. The heart of the Hall of Recovery was a rectangular garden, open to the sky, sheltered by the building¡¯s walls all around. Flowerbeds and trees grew in areas marked by stones, and a fountain or a stream could even be heard among the foliage. Higher up the two-storeyed walls which encircled the garden, windows looked into chambers where patients were tended and waited for healing. An array of wild birds provided music to the recovering.

    Nelesa hurried to a door on the first floor, not far from where the garden took its first corner. She approached an attendant waiting by under an awning and spoke in a lowered voice. The attendant nodded, gave the approaching group a look, and then admitted them inside.

    El¡¯enur, Darius, Lady Catena, Asphales, and Valinos all filed in, with Lady Nelesa following last of all and shutting the door. She signalled her thanks to the woman outside.

    The chamber was larger than the windows had suggested, with several beds laid out in order against a light, aspen-planked wall. Discrete panels acting as dividers separated each bed so their occupants could rest privately. Streaming light from a window fell on to a hulking, bandaged man. Guldar¡¯s dark complexion and bright eyes stood out, and he flashed a smile of recognition as Darius walked in.

    ¡®Hah, this is not how I would¡¯ve liked to be found by my commander.¡¯

    Darius returned the smile, but was bit by the truth that shortly, he would no longer be his friend¡¯s leader. His thoughts, however, were soon lost in the flurry of greetings and the excitement that reconnection brings. Lady Catena was led to a bed where Lady Leara rested. The navy sub-commander¡¯s usually rich, black curls were hidden under bandages, and she bore clear bruises. Across the room, Asphales and Valinos were hailed by Amarant Nadros, who shifted in his blanket with some difficulty. And even El¡¯enur was visibly relieved to see Guldar alive and well. As well as he could be, at least, albeit sporting new wounds.

    ¡®You look hale, my friend,¡¯ Darius said.

    Guldar chuckled and fingered the wrappings near his forehead and on his forearms. ¡®Just more scars to the add to the collection, that¡¯s all. I¡¯m lucky Innareth finds them attractive.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯ve always said you look good,¡¯ El¡¯enur teased.

    ¡®Boy, you¡¯re lucky I¡¯m confined to this bed.¡¯

    El¡¯enur flicked his hair and skipped around, as if to rub in the freedom he enjoyed. Guldar laughed.

    ¡®Innareth was here not long ago. And now you. It¡¯s like you all care, or something. But trust me, I got off easy compared to the old man over there.¡¯

    Guldar waved his head in the direction of Nadros¡¯ bed. The old Amarant was chatting to the two young men, no doubt telling his story with some flourish.

    Before he could head over, Lady Nelesa walked up to Darius and spoke quietly. ¡®Lady Leara would like to speak with you.¡¯

    Darius left El¡¯enur and Guldar to recount their own adventures and walked over to the bed in the far left of the chamber. Lady Catena stood by. Leara caught a glimpse of Darius and smiled.

    ¡®Hello, you,¡¯ she said.

    Darius nodded. ¡®How are you feeling?¡¯

    ¡®Like I¡¯ve drunk three bottles of a strong Kerenan brew and then someone did me the kindness of smashing those bottles over my head.¡¯

    Darius chuckled. ¡®I wager you smashed four bottles over their heads in return.¡¯

    Leara closed her eyes and breathed in. ¡®Nel tells me I did as much, but I can¡¯t remember much of the time on the island.¡¯

    ¡®The medical masters say she¡¯ll be fine, though!¡¯ Nelesa cut in, trying to assuage Darius¡¯ worry but sounding worried herself.

    ¡®I am fine,¡¯ Leara protested. ¡®Only reason I¡¯m still in here is so they can declare it all official after more observations. Don¡¯t you worry, I¡¯ll be back in action soon.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m glad to hear that,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®But let them do their job, and rest well.¡¯

    He turned to leave.

    ¡®You¡¯re not carrying your sword,¡¯ Leara noted. ¡®We don¡¯t often see you like this, commander. It¡­ suits you.¡¯

    Darius nodded and headed toward Amarant Nadros. One day, I¡¯ll put it down for good. I promise.

    At the old man¡¯s bed, Asphales and Valinos sat on stools, rapt listeners to the Amarant¡¯s tale. Nadros cut off as Darius approached.

    ¡®We had them,¡¯ he said, his eyes finding Darius. ¡®We nearly had them.¡¯

    ¡®What happened then?¡¯ Asphales asked.

    ¡®We had her cornered,¡¯ Nadros continued. ¡®By the ocean¡¯s blackened bones, it was an actual member of the Order. But then a group of Kerenani pounced. She got away in the melee. And the bastards did this to me.¡¯

    The old man flicked the sheet covering his lower half, unveiling a bandaged stump where his right foot should have been. There were winces and gasps from those around the bed, but the old man almost seemed to relish in the effect.

    ¡®Don¡¯t worry, they didn¡¯t take anything more vital, so my sailin¡¯ days ain¡¯t over yet. But I¡¯ll be here awhile.¡¯

    ¡®These things have a way of coming back to bite,¡¯ Guldar said from his bed. ¡®The mercenaries who attacked us were led by that disrespectful rat you threw in the sea, Darius. He recognised me.¡¯

    Darius looked over his companions. All fatigued, many bruised and wounded. And even those who bore no scars surely carried unseen wounds of the mind and of the heart. He knew that their missions had not been in vain, and even the disastrous turn of events in Sanaros bore fruit, but this did not vindicate the road he had taken or make bearing his companions¡¯ pain any easier.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ Darius began. ¡®To all of you, for everything. Trouble seems to follow me, and it¡¯s often those around me who pay the price.¡¯

    El¡¯enur jumped to speak but Darius put up a hand.

    ¡®No, let me apologise. And let me confess. You would¡¯ve heard by now of what I did at Taeladran.¡¯

    There were silent nods around the room.

    ¡®Whatever you think of that, all that matters is that it is done and, for better or worse, events are in motion because of the way I proceeded. I intend to see those events through. But, you need to know the steward has made up his mind, and I agree with him. I will remain for one more mission, and then I am to be dismissed.¡¯

    There was a collective cry, and almost everybody tried to speak at once.

    ¡®Like hell you are,¡¯ Leara said above the rest.

    ¡®Please!¡¯ Darius cried. ¡®Don¡¯t make this harder than it needs to be.¡¯

    The room hushed. Darius took in each person present in turn. Lady Nelesa was close to tears. Asphales and Valinos were ghost-faced. Guldar was frowning. This was not like disappointing an unreasonable and heartless parent. He knew that trust and respect would have to be earned afresh. But he would entrust himself to the love of others, for once.

    ¡®I appreciate your concerns, but it is right for this to happen. I only ask for your forgiveness, my friends. I will still be with you, and will give all that I am. You are free to give only that which you are willing.¡¯

    ¡®I am with you,¡¯ Amarant Nadros said, almost immediately.

    ¡®I am with you,¡¯ El¡¯enur followed.

    ¡®I¡¯ve been with you through worse,¡¯ Guldar said, ¡®so don¡¯t think this will keep me away.¡¯

    Each of the others followed with similar pledges. As they spoke, something within Darius moved, something which told of things beyond the winter of his heart and the flame of vengeance. Something he had not realised he¡¯d known but had been enveloped by all this time. Undeserved, unearned companionship.

    They spoke of lighter things after that, until a cobalt evening fell and Lady Nelesa suggested they let the wounded rest. Upon leaving the Hall of Recovery, an announcement came that there would be a delay to meetings until the opportune moment came. Given the state of both returning parties, Darius was sure all welcomed this.

    Later, with no immediate duty to attend to, Darius found himself alone with his thoughts in the silence of a barracks chamber. The rest of the company had returned to their lodgings, though some were at Commons enjoying a well-deserved night off. He had finished oiling Blackfrost and seeing to its maintenance after the engagement with the rannak. The blade now rested on the wall, alongside many other weapons.

    He was alone among the steel and stone.

    And there, Darius wept.

    * * *

    There was still light in the sky when Valinos left the Hall of Recovery. Still time to do what he wanted. So far, there had barely been time to react before they were herded on from one thing to another. Valinos was sure Ithil¨¬r would be hunting him and Asphales down to set them on some inconsequential chore right away.

    Not this evening.

    Once the others had said their goodbyes for the day, Valinos made his way to the Hall of Residence, carefully picking his way through the crowd. His eye was always out for a solemn, black-clad figure.

    He made it to his room unpursued and set to stowing away his luggage. He bathed as quick as he could and changed from his travelling attire into something more suited for an evening out. Valinos smoothed the folds of a black doublet and threw on a fine cotton vest. Black, of course, but with hints of silver running through the deep fabric.

    He left Anfr¨¬r and Gulren with the rest of his battle gear. He would not need them. There was indeed more to him than angry focus and fighting. Valinos pocketed his winnings from the card game at Taeladran and, with a glance back at his weapons, shut the door.

    Downstairs, he expected to see Asphales with dirty cloth in hand, polishing the counters or something, having already become a victim of Ithil¨¬r¡¯s plans. The fisherman-turned-warrior was present, indeed, but he was simply enjoying a meal. Before he was noticed, Valinos took one of the dishes set out along the benchtop and sat beside his friend. He dug into his food before even greeting him.

    ¡®You¡¯re eating with the speed of someone who¡¯s about to shirk his chores,¡¯ Asphales said.

    Valinos shrugged, chugging down a chunk of meat. He hadn¡¯t been giving much thought to what he was eating. ¡®I¡¯ll make it up to the master-servant another day,¡¯ he said.

    Asphales chuckled. He was savouring his meal at a much more proper rate. ¡®He¡¯s not that bad. I think he¡¯s taken to us a bit, you know.¡¯

    ¡®Probably doesn¡¯t know what to do with us. We are something of a curiosity, I wager.¡¯

    ¡®Well, here¡¯s to being curious.¡¯ Asphales raised a glass of drink utterly inappropriate for toasting.

    Valinos shook his head and rose, cutlery clinking on his empty plate.

    ¡®Where are you off to anyway?¡¯ Asphales asked. ¡®You¡¯re looking remarkably well-dressed. The feast has done wonderful things to you, my friend.¡¯

    Valinos put down his napkin. ¡®The sky awaits,¡¯ he merely said.

    He walked over to one of the servants who was busy behind the counter. ¡®Excuse me,¡¯ Valinos interrupted. ¡®Where can I find the nearest trader?¡¯

    The man looked up from his task. His hair and moustache were prim, as if perfectly moulded to his face. ¡®At this hour? Perhaps the stalls near the Hall of Records.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you,¡¯ said Valinos. ¡®If Ithil¨¬r asks, I was not here.¡¯ Valinos flicked a tiny gem over the counter. The servant caught the moonglint chip with a keen eye and nodded. The chip vanished in his breast pocket and the servant returned to his task as if nothing had occurred.

    ¡®I¡¯ll cover the evidence,¡¯ Asphales called out. He made a move towards Valinos¡¯ empty plate. If he expected a chip coming his way, he would be sorely disappointed.

    Valinos signalled to Asphales and dashed out the door.

    A quarter of a watch later, Valinos¡¯ pockets jingled with coin. Eleven solid shelehi, in fact. As the bribed servant had indicated, Valinos had found an evening trader within the castle walls and exchanged most of his moonglint chips for more practical currency.

    With minimal haggling, for the set of gems he had won Valinos received almost as much as one would give for a full complement of armour. He remembered selling his first set when working besides his¡­ well, working with Paran, at least. That seemed a different life now. Here he stood now, forging a new path ahead.

    With recollections playing in his mind, Valinos almost did not realise he was crossing the overpass leading to the tower of Birdswatch. The fresher breeze and open air alerted him as walls fell away and he was met with sheer sky and sea and land around him. He smiled and entered the tower.

    He bounded up the mossy steps. He cherished the feeling when the closeness of the tower¡¯s walls passed and opened into the freedom of the viewing platform. And he hoped that the one who had shown him this freedom would be there waiting. He wondered what he should say first, how he should surprise her.

    He broke out onto the platform. Evening light filled the open space like a gentle flame.

    There was no one to surprise at the top of the tower.

    Valinos slowed as he looked around, one hand caressing the old, weather-beaten pillars. There was no person attending the tower this moment. Neither Hasel nor Fen¡¯asel could be seen or heard around the platform. Even the dozens of small birds in their aviary were quiet this time.

    At their roosts, the two smaller eagles were there, seemingly getting comfortable for the evening. Valinos could not quite remember their names, but he greeted them nonetheless as he passed.

    And at the far end, perched on his throne against the sun like a king of the sky, Gidius stood. A majestic, breathing emblem. Valinos wondered why it was not the symbol of the eagle which decorated the banners of Fara¡¯ethar. Gidius watched with sharp gaze, as if noticing all that happened in its domain.

    The eagle was not why Valinos had come, but he supposed he would not throw away the chance to see the marvellous creature. He approached.

    Gidius raised itself and opened its wings. The gust of wind blew Valinos back and he had to raise his arms and shield his eyes. The creature¡¯s shadow overcame the space of the platform. It was not a threat, merely a reminder of who the true ruler of this place was. Even the other birds seemed reverential in their cages, as if bowing to their monarch.

    Awed but undeterred, Valinos stepped forward more carefully. He kept his eyes on the eagle and approached, arms out and hands open.

    I acknowledge you are king here and not I.

    With this hierarchy established, Gidius folded its wings and lowered its head to meet the visitor. Valinos caught sight of the bone-like structure around the eagle¡¯s head. Though he did not know what it was, he conceded it was truly fitting for such a regal creature.

    He was only a few feet away now. He stared up at Gidius and took in the lustrous coat of the eagle¡¯s feathers, the sheen of its beak. Gidius¡¯ clawed feet shifted slightly as Valinos drew nearer. It watched him with deep-set eyes of true gold.

    Valinos was entirely enveloped. He was face to face with the sky made manifest.

    ¡®You are freest of all and bound to none,¡¯ Valinos found himself saying.

    He raised a hand, inches away from Gidius¡¯ rich, brown plumage. All else melded away. There was only him and this eagle.

    ¡®What can you see, I wonder, from your perch among the heavens?¡¯

    Finger touched feather. Shaking, Valinos stroked the creature. Once, and again. He ran his hand down. Gidius did not object. The bird felt soft and rich, like finest silk which draped a ruler. There was firmness also, and the heavy texture of one who had weathered much through the ages and battled with the wildness of the elements.

    ¡®Would that you could show me what lies above our lands, beyond what our small minds and eyes can fathom.¡¯

    The eagle shifted. Valinos startled and took a step back. Gidius changed posture, facing out toward open land and lowering itself until its back was level with Valinos¡¯ midsection. Was this¡­ an invitation, an answer to Valinos¡¯ wish? He was taken aback by the creature¡¯s intelligence, even if slightly terrified by the prospect of what could happen here.

    Surely not. Valinos exhaled. His heart raced. He looked around, fretting with indecision, and yet knowing his desire to seize this opportunity would win out. Spotting a length of cloth among some supplies, he grabbed it and tied it around the eagle¡¯s neck. Gidius did not seem to mind the makeshift reins fastened around him.

    Valinos hopped on. He felt the eagle¡¯s musculature beneath him, the strength of its sinews and wings. This is folly beyond Asphales¡¯ level, I¡¯m sure. Yet even with that thought, he did not want to miss this. He did not turn back. Could he do this? How would he tell limits from lies if he did not take to the skies?

    ¡®I¡¯m ready.¡¯

    The eagle cawed and leapt into the wind¡¯s embrace.

    Valinos felt his stomach lurch as Gidius launched off the platform and dove. There was a rush of air. He held on to the reins, white-knuckled and unable to open his eyes. He could feel the sloshing of his hastily-ingested dinner.

    Another violent jerk and Valinos was pushed right against the eagle¡¯s neck. He heard a mighty flap and the feeling of falling subsided, blessedly. Valinos figured he must have screamed, for his throat was sore. He righted himself and took stock of where he was and what he sensed. His feet dangled, no solid ground beneath him. He could not feel his hands, but thanked them for not letting go during the dive.

    And finally, he opened his eyes. It took a moment to adjust to the light and wind.

    The initial stab of terror told him he was not dreaming, even though the view was certainly dream-like. From above, Anardes was composed of pastels of smeared colour. Unlike the static perspective from Birdswatch, here was Valinos racing, soaring, wheeling, tumbling over the land. Forests, hills, and towns, all sped beneath him in a blur. What people or animals could be seen were mere momentary specks as he flew on. Only the frames of mountains and the ever-wider canvas of the sea were constant.

    Gidius flapped again and turned as they neared a cliff. Valinos found his balance and leaned into the eagle as it shifted beneath him. The wind resonated with each beat of the creature¡¯s wings. He was stunned by the force making its way through the sky, cutting its own path through the gale.

    This is it. This is what I have wanted.

    As boy and bird swung around, Fara¡¯ethar came into view. Even the majesty of the castle was minuscule from this vantage point. The tower of Birdswatch was a mere pebble in the distance.

    ¡®Higher, Gidius. Let¡¯s go higher.¡¯

    The eagle obeyed. It cried and the sound split the air around them. From three hundred feet, they rose higher. Four hundred feet. Five hundred. A thousand. At nearly two thousand, Valinos gave a signal and Gidius ceased its climb. The castle could still be made out, but everything else below was an indistinct streak.

    It was an entirely different world up here. The air was colder. Valinos looked around at the palace of clouds slowly morphing around them. The light played with a multitude of silvers. Valinos had never before appreciated the varied colour of the sky. They seemed to be higher than the sunset, and it felt as if the daylight itself was within reach.

    This was tranquillity. Undaunted by the heights, bitterness couldn¡¯t climb here. Nothing could reach him and bring him down. Valinos whooped. No one may have heard the boy¡¯s cry, but it was the most liberating sound he had ever made.

    Looking higher still, Valinos saw the Sundered was there, nearer than ever. Almost attainable. Perhaps that threshold would wait for another time. This was enough daring for one day.

    An almost-sound distracted him. A pulse, a thrum from somewhere rang in Valinos¡¯ ears. He twisted around as Gidius flew on, trying to discern its origin. It seemed to come from the direction of the sea, calling from far beyond where waves ceased and an unnatural depression formed. The Scar, as it was called, that abyssal collapse in the ocean itself was there in the distance too, though from here it seemed a simple bruise against the wideness of the sea. Was that where this sensation was coming from?

    Valinos could not be certain that it was not his mind playing tricks on him. Perhaps the air at this height or the churning in his stomach was confusing him.

    ¡®Now, how do we get down?¡¯ he mused aloud. ¡®Gidius, can you descend gently?¡¯

    The eagle took to this petition and angled itself in a slow, circling descent towards the castle. Valinos marvelled that the creature listened to him. Yet he did not feel in control, merely at the whim of a benevolent superior. One to whom the constraints of gravity did not apply. Otherworldly, but somehow approachable.

    Still, this was something, this apparent connection with Gidius. Fen¡¯asel had not mentioned that anyone had ridden the eagle before. Some pride filled him, knowing that he was perhaps the first to do this, the first to be afforded the wonder of what he could see. Perhaps Valinos did not have innate impressive abilities, no latent stores of starlight to draw upon like Asphales. But this was different. And it was his own.

    Look to the sky, Nathariel had said. That traitor held back of what he knew, Valinos was sure. He had been so close to the Order again, so close to potential answers. The chance had been snatched from him. But Nathariel had deserved his execution, had he not? Whatever others thought of Darius, that was action. Valinos questioned the justice of a system which punished one who dared to do what was right, even if it was extreme. His only regret was that he had not been able to extract more information before the fool died.

    Perhaps it was the clear quality of the air, or the exhilaration of the flight, but something snapped into focus as Gidius bore him back toward the castle. He would not be blown about any longer; he would take charge of his own destiny. Valinos knew what he had to do.

    The sky had turned violet when Gidius hovered near the platform. The descent had been gentle, indeed. The eagled spread its wings and slowed on its approach to the overhanging platform from which they had taken off.

    ¡®Valinos!¡¯ someone cried out as he drew near. He was still in the air.

    It was Fen¡¯asel. ¡®What?!¡¯ she sputtered. She ran along the platform as the eagle glided by. She leaned over the barrier and watched Valinos borne in majestically.

    Gidius barely touched down when the girl ran to him, incredulous. Valinos could barely keep back laughter as her eyes struggled to comprehend the sight.

    ¡®That was¡­ that was you?¡¯ she asked. Even bewildered, her voice had the loveliest tone, like a singing breeze. ¡®I saw Gidius in the sky, and I couldn¡¯t believe my eyes when I saw someone riding him¡­ but it was you?¡¯

    ¡®Hello, Fen¡¯asel,¡¯ he said. ¡®I¡¯m back.¡¯ Still atop the creature, Valinos figured he must have looked regal himself.

    Fen¡¯asel let out a half-formed word, at a loss for what to say. It was good to see her. As she stood speechless, Valinos realised how he had missed her energy and playfulness, her wonderful presence. In her usual attire of subdued tones, she was still more striking than the setting sun.

    ¡®How¡­ how did you do that, Valinos?¡¯ she asked at last.

    ¡®Uh, I had a moment of madness.¡¯

    ¡®I can see that. You¡¯ve given Gidius a kingly scarf.¡¯ Fen¡¯asel stepped over and admired the purple cloth hung around the eagle¡¯s neck. Valinos had not yet dismounted. A second idea sparked, perhaps even more crazy than the one which initially led to this excitement.

    ¡®Would you like to come with me?¡¯ he asked.

    ¡®Oh, Val¡­ but I have so many things to do.¡¯ She tucked a plait behind her ear and looked away. There were traces of half-opened sacks and other tools lying about the platform. Valinos¡¯ arm was still outstretched.

    ¡®Gidius, what do you say?¡¯ asked Valinos, ¡®Shall we go again?¡¯

    The eagle let out a sound, as friendly as could be produced by such an enormous creature. Valinos raised his eyebrows.

    ¡®Fen, you showed me something wonderful when I first arrived here. Now it¡¯s my turn.¡¯

    Fen¡¯asel took his hand. She hopped on and squealed when the eagle stirred. She latched on to Valinos. The added weight seemed of no concern to Gidius, whose graceful movements went on unhindered. It prepared for a dive once more.

    ¡®I¡¯ll have to be careful,¡¯ Valinos said, getting into position for take-off. ¡®Otherwise, your old man will have my head and feed me to the birds.¡¯

    Fen¡¯asel laughed and clung tighter.

    Gidius launched into the air once more. This time, Valinos relished the fall and the sudden rise. Fen¡¯asel seemed to have taken to the flight better than he did the first time.

    ¡®That felt rather heroic,¡¯ she said as Gidius eased into level glide and took them around over Guladran. Lights were beginning to spring to life, both above and below. Daylight was relinquishing its hold over the wooded hills in the distance and the snow-blanketed mountains. In its place, fires from the town beneath lit through the maze of wood and stone. And above, the first stars twinkled. The sea, not long before awash with the glow of sunset, cooled into a murky blue.

    ¡®This is incredible,¡¯ Fen¡¯asel said. Valinos felt her twisting side to side. He wished he could see her face. Her grip was firm and warm.

    ¡®You once said you regret not being able to fly,¡¯ he said. ¡®I hope this changes how you feel.¡¯

    Valinos could not see her reaction. She buried her faced in his back. ¡®Thank you,¡¯ she said softly, almost inaudibly over the whistling breeze. A few heartbeats later, she sang.

    Like rushing rain that falls through empty air

    Or feathered clouds which rise without compare

    I am a mewling bird which swoops and soars

    The freedom¡¯s mine, this joy without a care

    A skyward bliss, this peace is mine to share

    Her voice mingled with the wind and fluttered off into the descending night. They passed over the town in silence. Valinos wondered if anyone would look up and notice them. What would they think? It mattered not. This moment was theirs.

    ¡®It¡¯s good to have you back,¡¯ Fen¡¯asel said.

    Valinos reached up to his chest with one hand and found hers. Their palms settled into one another¡¯s like they had always belonged together. Fen¡¯asel leaned in again, closer.

    Some dark feeling told Valinos this could not last. It told him that soon his road would take an unpleasant fork. It would be a turn she could not follow, if he were to do what needed doing. But tonight, he pushed that feeling away. Though the day was dying, Valinos would enjoy the freedom of the sky for another moment, before he was sent off on wilder winds again.

 Chapter Twenty-four - Devotion Understood

    The question of whether life originates from stars is immaterial, wrote Al¡¯ur the Wise, for the reality one must contend with is how starlight impacts, and indeed enhances, one¡¯s lifeforce. We need not understand the genesis of a process to make beneficial advancements in its application.

    Perhaps a separation of definition will be helpful here. ¡®Starlight¡¯ can properly be understood as the energy of life itself, abstracted as it were. ¡®Lifeforce,¡¯ on the other hand, is that energy in motion, in breath and effort. Starlight is the source, that light so separate from our world and most often glimpsed in the heavenly bodies of the night sky. Lifeforce is that which we see and feel, and live by.

    To return to the initial point, the nature of starlight may well be beyond our grasp, but the utilisation of lifeforce is certainly within comprehension. One need not precisely define the composition of fire before its uses become apparent.

    So the heavy tome went on, in a surprising synthesis of philosophy and practice. Asphales had finally found himself with some spare time and had spent the day in the Hall of Records. Between continued lessons under Amaleron¡¯s tutelage and helping out in the castle, it was a rare moment that Asphales could sit down with an open book. His stories had certainly not prepared him for the busyness a prospective hero would be burdened with.

    But now at last, he had managed to make some headway into Amaleron¡¯s assigned reading. It was perhaps not the most riveting book, but to one forced to wrestle with such matters in a very real way, its content was all the more relevant. The text reinforced and elucidated what Asphales had experienced, though it was a pre-Monarchic Era analysis, before the Elders had had a second hand in the shaping of the world. Amaleron¡¯s approach to learning was more cerebral, to be sure, and his lessons did not have as many dramatic effects. Having felt his lifeforce unleashed under Eltanin¡¯s supervision, Asphales was itching for action. Still, it was better to keep his mind occupied than to have his skittering feet wander.

    Asphales sighed and turned the page.

    Many would be aware of the variegated temperaments and personalities in people, and indeed the compatibility between such different dispositions which is its own complex problem. However, it is becoming increasingly apparent that such diversity among men is driven by dizzyingly intricate interactions between our environment and the starlight afforded to all living things. Some scholars link one¡¯s resultant composition to that which we know as constellations ¨C the set patterns of the stars wheeling our mortal plane.

    Perhaps the answer is not so simple, as exceptions to any proposed model so far are readily available. But fascinating (and promising) are the studies which indicate that the flow of starlight itself within a person tends to align itself within demonstrable patterns. Should these patterns become mapped and understood, perhaps we would be a step closer to understanding ourselves ¨C our natures, our inclinations, our aspirations ¨C and within reach of working together and attaining much-needed unity.

    Asphales put the book down and stretched his arms. Al¡¯ur¡¯s reflections were hopeful, idealistic even, written before the fall of Ulm¨¬r had shattered these optimistic notions and men had maligned starlight itself as dangerous. Asphales suspected that had been the reason people¡¯s perspective on the nature of lifeforce had stagnated over the centuries, to the point such discussions were dismissed in towns like Silnod¨¬r.

    A chair nearby scraped as its occupant reached for another volume. Asphales could not see who it was. In this labyrinth of timber and tomes, musty and primeval both, he was afforded privacy with his pages. While he would normally welcome the isolation a good book offered, today he longed for companionship and chatter. Perhaps he had been somewhat changed by recent events.

    At the back of his mind, a concern for Valinos lingered. They had come into contact with the Order again. Asphales wondered what that had done to Valinos¡¯ own thoughts and plans. Valinos had surprised everyone, and certainly the Keeper of Birds himself most of all, by taking to the sky a few nights ago. However baffling that act had been, Asphales hoped it bought his best friend some clarity and offset the frustrations of recent setbacks.

    And so, uneasily, he shifted and shuffled, attempting to return to his study without much fruit and finding his gaze wandering to the sunny outdoors glimpsed through the windows, beyond this cramped place of learning.

    The rhythmic flicker of a page turned and the occasional cough were all the accompaniment Asphales enjoyed for a couple more hours. That was perhaps not fair, considering Asphales had in his hand the chance to encounter one of his scholarly idols. He scolded himself and focused as much as possible on Al¡¯ur¡¯s musings on starlight.

    But another distraction appeared when tender footsteps sounded behind Asphales¡¯ desk. He set the book down, took it as a welcome intrusion, and turned to see who was approaching.

    Nelesa, scholar and soldier, walked over.

    ¡®Asphales,¡¯ she said, ¡®I hope I did not startle or disturb you.¡¯ She placed clasped hands before her and bowed slightly. Asphales was taken aback. Though there were many unimaginable matters he had had to accept in the past turn of the moon, being greeted respectfully ranked among them as most unexpected. Whether because of the town¡¯s suspicion against him or the general nature of a fishing village, Silnod¨¬r¡¯s manner of addressing him was more¡­ vulgar.

    ¡®Hello,¡¯ he said, closing the book entirely and standing up from his desk. Asphales would take this as a sign that his study for the day could come to an end.

    ¡®Al¡¯ur¡¯s treatise on starlight,¡¯ Nelesa said as she looked down at the overturned book. ¡®His theory on the different colours of starlight is fascinating.¡¯

    ¡®Yes. I figured I better brush up on my theory, given how things have turned out with me.¡¯

    Nelesa smiled. She was wearing a simple, collared shirt and a vest to keep away the cold. The library was cooler than the other wards, lit as it was by mere candlelight and lacking the warmth of crowded company and cheer. Asphales noticed a moonglint pendant hanging around her neck and smiled. He suspected its source.

    ¡®Yes, and I suppose you will eventually find yourself on the frontlines, as I did. If you¡¯ve got time between the training, the chores, and your calling, these would be worth a look.¡¯ She pointed over to a series of books titled On Military Tactics.

    ¡®Thank you. How are the others?¡¯

    ¡®Can¡¯t keep them bedridden. Guldar and Leara insisted on being discharged the next day. It took a while longer for Amarant Nadros to be back on his feet, but he¡¯s done it. You¡¯ll see.¡¯

    Asphales sighed. ¡®I¡¯m relieved to hear that.¡¯

    ¡®Now, I¡¯m here to deliver a summons. Amaleron has set the time for council and we are to meet tonight. Hall of the Elders, twentieth watch.¡¯

    Asphales nodded. He felt like he had swallowed a stone. For this council would portend war. ¡®Has anything happened?¡¯ he asked, trying to still his nerves and hoping he did not sound overtly croaky.

    ¡®Yes, actually. Valinos himself has come up with an idea.¡¯ Before Asphales¡¯ bemusement could explode and disturb the silence of the library, Nelesa put up her hand. ¡®I don¡¯t know much about it, myself. I guess we¡¯ll all find out tonight.¡¯

    Asphales nodded again. ¡®Thank you. I¡¯ll be there.¡¯

    Nelesa smiled and prepared to leave. ¡®You¡¯re worried about him, Asphales,¡¯ she said softly. ¡®El¡¯enur has noticed as well. But I assure you, whatever happens, we will be right there. We¡¯ll watch over him. And as along as Darius is by his side, you know¡­¡¯ She attempted a reassuring smile. Then she bowed again and left.

    Asphales sat down. He was shaking slightly, and not from the chill air in the library. He knotted his hands together and rubbed his palms. A moment¡¯s painful wrestling with questions revealed that he would resolve nothing sitting on his own here. Asphales gathered his things and set out for the exit with trepidation.

    But above the meandering confusion of what would happen next, a comforting thought settled. There was something to aspire to in Nelesa. She proved one could be both learned and trained. These were not competing interests but complementary invitations.

    To know the world and to protect it.

    The opportune moment Amaleron had been seeking came one night unsuspecting. It came from a man who had taken to the sky and returned with a simple, daring plan.

    A clearheaded, if crazy, idea.

    And on this Moonspell evening, nearly a dozen of Anardes¡¯ military leaders stood with mouths agape at the boldness (or stupidity) of one.

    ¡®Say that again?¡¯ Asphales said, after Valinos summarised his tactic.

    The steward had gathered the three Amarants, their sub-commanders, and an assortment of council leaders in the antechamber of the Hall of the Elders. Crowded around a stone slab, their purpose was to fashion a plan which would tackle the Order¡¯s growing and mysterious dealings at the Dragon¡¯s Eye.

    A map of Anardes lay sprawled on the table. Seeing it like this made Asphales realise how more well-travelled he was now, and how much more there was still left to see. Even in the flickering light, the tantalising borders drawn in ink set his imagination afire. Silnod¨¬r, and even Fara¡¯ethar and Taeladran¡ªplaces he could only have imagined previously¡ªwere little illustrations on a map which stretched on and on.

    The Dragon¡¯s Eye, the location of current interest, was sketched in the far east of Anardes, where the last remnants of Gohenur broke against the roots of the Undorn range. The Eye itself was a lake, so named for its shape, but its other feature of note was its proximity to Baladran, a ruined city of old. Earlier, Amarant Darius had scrawled a rough circle over the region as Nadros outlined the findings their expedition had yielded. The old Amarant had a wooden leg fashioned for use and fastened to his stumpy limb. He walked with some difficulty but was clearly glad to be out and about again.

    Now, Darius leant against the chamber wall, looking on. He seemed to be the only one unsurprised by Valinos¡¯ proposition.

    ¡®Send me,¡¯ Valinos repeated, after taking a deep breath. ¡®The Order wants me. I don¡¯t know what for, but I know this from our encounter in Gohenur. And even Nathariel hinted as much. He acted suspiciously around me when the others weren¡¯t around at Taeladran. He seemed to know more about me than he let on.¡¯

    No one responded at first. Asphales could tell from their heavy gazes that they were considering his words.

    ¡®And how do you propose to be sent, exactly?¡¯ asked Guldar.

    Valinos hesitated, but whether from uncertainty or from the fact this next part of the plan was even more shocking, Asphales did not know at first.

    ¡®Amarant Darius is to¡­ kidnap me and present me to the Order as their prize, at the Dragon¡¯s Eye.¡¯

    Blank faces blinked, but did not speak. Darius¡¯ eyebrow shot up.

    This time it was Asphales who spoke up first. ¡®Valinos, that is rash. It¡¯s crazy!¡¯ He had not meant to, but his voice rose and resounded in the chamber. El¡¯enur, Nelesa, and Ad¨¦lia looked at him, and Asphales thought he caught the concern they were trying to express. They knew.

    ¡®Asphales, you vowed that you would help me find answers,¡¯ Valinos shot back. ¡®Whatever it takes. Well, I am convinced now, this is what it takes. Are you with me still?¡¯This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Asphales was taken aback. Standing there among titans, he felt pressure. He intended to honour that oath, be it small and intimate compared to the promises made by those whose very profession was battle and protection.

    ¡®This isn¡¯t just about some vendetta, is it?¡¯ Darius asked.

    ¡®No. For once, I¡¯m thinking clearly. For once in my damned life, I know what I have to do.¡¯

    ¡®But you think to direct the course of the military here,¡¯ Leara protested.

    ¡®Peace, Lady Leara,¡¯ Amaleron said, intervening. He considered a moment, then spoke gently. ¡®Scarce three tides ago we had gathered ourselves for council, new hope and information suddenly afforded to us. Here we stand once more, with loss and burdens on our backs but nary a direction, save for the name of a bygone place. We will consider the logistics shortly, but let us hear him out. Valinos?¡¯

    ¡®It¡¯s not just for me. We saw the Order can strike anywhere. How safe did we think we were at Taeladran? How untouchable did Eltanin consider himself? And yet, here we are¡­ I believe this will be your chance to finally know what you¡¯re up against. Send me.¡¯

    Valinos did not speak of what was now surely on the minds of the others. How safe do we consider ourselves here?

    ¡®I¡¯m convinced,¡¯ El¡¯enur said. ¡®I don¡¯t want a repeat of our loss at Taeladran. I can¡¯t bear that again.¡¯ The archer¡¯s eyes were steely, determined.

    ¡®Well it¡¯s not you he¡¯s sending off, is it?¡¯ Guldar asked. ¡®Darius, how do you feel about this?¡¯

    The Amarant pushed off the wall and stepped closer.

    ¡®Hopefully,¡¯ Darius said, ¡®the Order is under the impression I¡¯m about to defect. Well, this would certainly make my conversion believable. Boy, your plan is full of holes, but it¡¯s got heart. Still, what do you suppose will happen once you and I are there in the Order¡¯s clutches?¡¯

    Valinos looked at a loss for words.

    ¡®No one will deny your earnestness, Valinos,¡¯ the steward said. ¡®However, this does not preclude caution or levelheadedness. Everyone, we are here to ensure this desperate attempt¡ªfor that is what it is¡ªworks.¡¯ Evidently, Valinos had already run his idea past Amaleron and it was now receiving wider critique.

    ¡®I imagine you¡¯ll want a complement of hidden soldiers with you,¡¯ El¡¯enur said. ¡®I¡¯m in.¡¯

    ¡®Well-hidden,¡¯ Leara intervened. ¡®How do you figure we move a sizeable army to the Eye without being seen?¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s true,¡¯ Ishak said. ¡®We¡¯re not sure what we¡¯ll find at the Eye, but we can¡¯t underestimate the size of the opposing force if this is indeed the centre of their operation. So that means sending out, what, at least a mane¡¯s worth of men?¡¯

    The others now stared at the map and frowned, treating the distance between the castle and the Eye like a puzzle to be solved.

    ¡®Can we find out what we¡¯re getting into first? Is there any way to scout ahead?¡¯ Nelesa was tapping her finger as she asked the questions.

    ¡®We could send sky boy over there, riding the eagle.¡¯ The suggestion came from El¡¯enur, perhaps half-jokingly. Asphales smiled. The news of what had happened at Birdswatch spread quickly.

    Valinos let out a breath. ¡®I¡­ I don¡¯t know how I did that.¡¯

    ¡®Even so,¡¯ Amaleron said with a grunt, ¡®that will not be a viable option. Gidius is presently occupied. The will of a great-eagle is its own, and we cannot be sure when he will return.¡¯

    ¡®Expediency is essential here,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®This window I¡¯ve opened¡­ I don¡¯t think it will be open long. We have to act very soon.¡¯

    ¡®So, the question remains: how do we move a mane unseen?¡¯ Amarant Nadros¡¯ clacking footsteps around the room provided unnerving urgency.

    ¡®We can circumvent the open passes around Taeladran, through Gohenur forest.¡¯ It was Ad¨¦lia, speaking up for the first time. She traced a path through the forest on the map, leading right to the edge of the Eye. ¡®Gohenur comes within a league of the lake. Once we¡¯re that close, it should be too late for the Order to prepare.¡¯

    ¡®That has merit,¡¯ Leara said. ¡®But with all respect, you want to send the bulk of your army through Gohenur on a lead which may not bear fruit?¡¯

    ¡®And what about the rannakim?¡¯ El¡¯enur added.

    It seemed Ad¨¦lia did not interpret Leara¡¯s opposition as a challenge to her leadership, and took no offense at El¡¯enur interjection. ¡®They do not tread deep in the forest. There are paths we could follow, away from their nests. It would mean our going would be slow and harsh, but it would be the safer road.¡¯

    Leara nodded. ¡®You know the forest best, my lady.¡¯

    ¡®As for the journey¡¯s end,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia continued, ¡®that is part of the risk we are taking. We know not what we¡¯ll find at the Dragon¡¯s Eye. So I would not force any to jump blindly like this into the unknown. I would prefer the force be made up of the willing. Put the call out among the manes. And let them know there is no shame in abstaining from this expedition.¡¯

    The room seemed to be in agreement with this suggestion. Asphales found even more to admire in her as Amarant. Ad¨¦lia¡¯s care for her own and her wisdom inspired his own devotion and commitment. He thought of Valinos¡¯ challenge, and knew he would answer in the affirmative.

    ¡®That seems settled,¡¯ Amaleron said. ¡®Amarant Catena, if you are willing to lead a division through Gohenur and back up Amarant Darius and Valinos.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia nodded. ¡®I am.¡¯

    ¡®So that leaves my part,¡¯ Darius said, staring at the map.

    ¡®We still have our doubts,¡¯ a councilman said, ¡®about the plan instigated by this youth.¡¯ The councilman fidgeted with his moustache and eyepiece as he spoke. A couple of others grumbled their agreement. Valinos glowered.

    ¡®Councilman Thrim,¡¯ the steward addressed him with a sigh, ¡®what is your exact concern with the suggestion?¡¯

    Thrim cleared his throat. ¡®Why do we need to risk losing Amarant Darius in this way?¡¯ Asphales flushed. It irked him that Valinos¡¯ fate was apparently of no concern to them.

    ¡®You¡¯ll lose me anyway!¡¯ Darius shouted. The room quieted. ¡®Surely you have all heard of my dismissal. This will at least make something of the opportunity that has come about from this.¡¯ Darius looked at each man in turn, daring further opposition, before addressing Ad¨¦lia. ¡®How long will it take to move an army into position?¡¯

    ¡®Two tides at least. It will be even slower going as we get near the Eye, if we want to mask signs of our approach. We¡¯ll begin preparations immediately. The first division can leave with the sun tomorrow.¡¯

    Asphales gulped. So soon.

    ¡®Good,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®Valinos, are you ready?¡¯

    Valinos snapped to attention. ¡®Yes.¡¯

    ¡®We¡¯ll depart shortly. We¡¯ll cause a stir and distract attention from the moving army. Brace yourself. It is not going to be¡­ comfortable.¡¯

    Valinos looked worried. El¡¯enur smiled. If any objections remained, they were left unspoken and a sense of finality had been established around the chamber.

    ¡®Two matters remain,¡¯ Amaleron said, stepping up to the front of the room. Asphales was again taken aback by how tall the old man seemed.

    The steward¡¯s amber eyes fell to Asphales. ¡®I suppose it is futile to ask that you not be involved in this.¡¯

    Asphales nodded. ¡®I need to be out there. If I am thus gifted, I cannot squander it away in inactivity while others risk their lives. I will be careful, but I will be there for those who are there for me. Besides,¡¯¡ªhis eyes found Valinos, who seemed relieved his plan had been accepted, and terrified that he now had to go through with it¡ª¡®I am with you, Valinos.¡¯ He spoke not to the military leaders or the councilmen, but to a friend. And he affirmed this not as some hero of starlight, but as a friend.

    Valinos returned his gaze and nodded.

    Amaleron closed his eyes. ¡®If thus it must be, we will trust Regulus¡¯ design.¡¯

    El¡¯enur approached Asphales and clasped his shoulder. In this together, he meant to say. Over by the table, Ad¨¦lia¡¯s eyes were still fixed on the map.

    ¡®The second matter involves measures closer to home,¡¯ Amaleron said, once again addressing everyone. ¡®We must do what we can to ensure the secrecy of this plan. Amarants, I trust you will do all that is in your power to enact more stringent security.¡¯

    ¡®We are in the process of re-checking all enlisted soldiers¡¯ backgrounds, and will make sure that is complete prior to the army heading out. We have tightened watches and set more guards around.¡¯

    Amaleron nodded, and the others signalled their approval as well.

    ¡®I suspect we are being watched more closely than we realise,¡¯ Darius continued. ¡®From the note that set this whole affair into motion, the loss of our forest scout and Shurun¡¯el appearance, not to mention the traitor in Taeladran¡¯s own court.¡¯

    Asphales¡¯ mind was taken back to the day the eagle had come down bearing the mysterious note. He looked across the room and Valinos seemed lost in thought, too. How far that little paper had carried them.

    ¡®Vigilance, all,¡¯ Darius finished. ¡®We ousted the Order out of one little foxhole at Feres. But it seems this would be their burrow. It¡¯s time to flush them out and cripple them, permanently. Starlight guide us.¡¯

    * * *

    Windsell dawned, cool and clear. Sunlight broke over the mountains in the east. Shade and shadow fled. Dreams and darkness burned up. The lion banners arrayed along the castle¡¯s wall greeted the sun. And the lion fastened to Oneledim, too, rose proud and flapped in the morning¡¯s first, bright wind.

    Ad¨¦lia stood, washed in light, and breathed in warmth. Her spear and armour gleamed as she looked out from the watchtower over the first division. Two hundred armour-clad infantrymen, at the ready. More than that, they were two hundred brave men who had answered a call willingly. Among them were Ishak, and Asphales, the boy with jasper eyes who now walked as a man blessed by starlight.

    Ad¨¦lia lifted her helm and prepared to address the soldiers. She was not Ro?thia, she knew that. She knew her words could not rouse the heart as hers did. But Ad¨¦lia would instil something of the same courage she attempted to cling to.

    ¡®This morn we set out to battle. I will not pretend that I know what awaits us. I will not give you false certainties. But I am certain of the power and virtue of those who stand before me. And I will say that no matter the outcome, I shall be proud of your service. Trust in the strength of your arm and the commitment of your heart. Entrust yourselves to the love of the other beside you.

    May the might of Regulus and the mercy of Carinae direct our course this day and in days to come.¡¯

    A shout rose from the cobblestone courtyard. Fists and steel pumped the air.

    ¡®For Fara¡¯ethar! For Catena!¡¯

    That name rang like a false bell. Catena. A diversion. An untruth.

    ¡®My companions,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia called out, ¡®if I am to ask that you give your all for me and for this cause, it is right that I return the favour. You have graced me with your names, but I have kept back, stayed hidden.¡¯

    As she spoke, silence settled over the division.

    Ad¨¦lia willed herself to go on. But her voice caught in her throat. She looked for Asphales. She found his eyes in the crowd, steady and focused. Strength. Security. There was a strain of song in her heart, a quieted voice.

    You are a blossoming flower.

    ¡®I am Ad¨¦lia Amal¡¯ethar, daughter of ancient light,¡¯ she cried. ¡®My name is Ad¨¦lia Amal¡¯ethar!¡¯ Relief came like the breaking of light through clouds.

    Ad¨¦lia. A song of scarlet flowers and flame. A broken dream. A ragged breath. A light unburning. That is who she was. It was time to face it. And more importantly, to face others with her true nature.

    Amarant Ad¨¦lia raised her spear and her kindled voice. ¡®I offer you my name, my weapon, and my life. For this land, for this people.¡¯

    The soldiers¡¯ devotion exploded in cheers.

    ¡®For Ad¨¦lia!¡¯ they shouted. ¡®For the one who burns with the lion¡¯s spirit!¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia closed her eyes and breathed in as the symphony of voices faded. It was done. Her name revealed. But still, there were some things that were hers alone. A fiery face. A blackened weapon.

    She thought of Amarant Darius and Valinos. They had already gone out before the sunrise. They, too, fought for something they did not fully understand, tainted perhaps by ambitions and aspirations which they did not fully reveal. Darius carried his own pain, she knew that much. And Valinos¡­ The others had been indignant of the one whose heart was glass, of his intentions behind the plan he suggested. But Ad¨¦lia herself was no more innocent, a heart all splinter and shards.

    She reminded herself she could be better. If Ro?thia had cautioned that a backward step was sometimes necessary, Ad¨¦lia now knew that a forward step could also be the right thing. She did not yet know what would happen when the moment of confrontation came, but this here was a pace forward, into the light.

    As Ad¨¦lia descended from the tower, soldiers hailed her. Armament clanked as they saluted. She nodded to each in turn and offered thanks.

    ¡®My lady, I thank you,¡¯ one in particular said. Ad¨¦lia halted and looked at him. She could tell from the youthful eyes behind the helmet¡¯s visor that this was someone relatively new.

    ¡®What is your name?¡¯ she asked.

    The young warrior lifted his eye-shield. ¡®It¡¯s Telen, my lady.¡¯ His excited voice did not betray any disappointment at not being recognised. His copper eyes were eager and self-sure.

    ¡®Telen,¡¯ she said. ¡®Ishak has told me about you. You show promise. I am the one who should thank you, for all that you offer. Welcome to the mane.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia walked on, leaving the young warrior and joining a band of marching soldiers who were commencing the division¡¯s formation. She walked past Ishak, who was gathering troops to follow. He paused a moment and glanced at her. He seemed teary, and his gaze was fatherly. Ad¨¦lia smiled, and continued on.

    She emerged out into the courtyard. Ten marching bootsteps became twenty. Then one hundred. More joined as the noise moved out of the castle grounds, through the Lion Gate, and into the path leading to battle.

    Civilians watched from the streets and from open windows as the division passed. They spoke little, but offered the sign of starlight¡¯s guidance as the soldiers went on. The march seemed doleful, each footstep echoing through quiet streets.

    Ad¨¦lia had heard this sound before, this musical clank of metal. It was the overture to war. But this time, it felt different.

    She gazed to her right. Asphales had fallen into step beside her, at the head of the march. Yes, this was different. She was marching to war with the man next to her to whom she had opened up, like a flower seeking the sun.

    A watch passed, and the waves of onlookers in narrow alleys disappeared. Now the division was marching along the plains of Guladran, sun slightly higher in the sky.

    A watch later, and Guladran¡¯s flats shifted into the unnatural plateaus on the edge of Gohenur.

    Another watch. The army stood not far from the forest now, barren ground giving way to mounds crowned with trees. Autumn colours had seized the forest. Blankets of leaves arrayed like a welcoming carpet greeted the approaching division.

    How quickly it all turned and passed. Time marched in one direction, Ad¨¦lia knew, like an unthinking soldier to their doom, to the grave. But she would try to savour each breath, each moment of life.

    ¡®Are you afraid, Asphales?¡¯ she asked.

    Asphales took a second before he spoke. He looked ahead at Gohenur¡¯s entrance. ¡®Here I am, for the second time about to enter the forest which changed my life. We go on towards an unknown goal, hanging our hopes on two who are barely in touch with their powers, and one of whom is scarcely trained for war. Yes, I am afraid.¡¯ Then he looked at her, and his jasper eyes brimmed with light and courage. ¡®But it needs to be done. This is our duty. We do this together.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia nodded. Even if the time had crept up in a blink, even if difficulties assailed them, this was precisely the moment to seize and respond and prove to the darkness that hope would not be smothered.

    They entered the forest in lockstep. Ad¨¦lia watched the army¡¯s vanguard disappear beneath a shroud of trees.

 Chapter Twenty-five - Rage Unbound

    Darius had not lied when he said the journey would be uncomfortable. But Valinos had committed to the plan, even if his current position was less than pleasant. So it was, on a cold Windsell morning, that Darius marched out of Fara¡¯ethar fiery and swift, riding his steed while Valinos hung on like a knapsack.

    The diversion had worked. Or at least, Valinos supposed it did, as his ride was black and bumpy, with nary a chance to truly take in what was happening. Before the sun had woken, Darius caused a commotion at the barracks. What the people witnessed was a seemingly rogue and unruly Amarant breaking into the weapons quarters for an unauthorised withdrawal, shortly before a forced entry into the stables had him flee the castle with a hostage.

    That hostage, of course, was Valinos, now enjoying a ride tied and blindfolded, slung over Mas¨¬lminur¡¯s rump. From his ¡®pride of place¡¯ Valinos heard further struggles and orchestrated manoeuvres which sold the performance. A company of soldiers was knocked to the ground in the horse¡¯s flight. There was cursing and shouting, from both Amarant and would-be opponents. A dramatic escape through closing gates and a rush into the open markets told this story: Amarant Darius had defected.

    Valinos wished he could see the faces of the surprised and confused bystanders as the whispers rose. Alas, for his apparent peril to remain conspicuous, it meant that he could not be privy to their reaction.

    Darius did not ease his hard ride for a few watches, at least. Eventually, they were out of the cramped quarters of Guladran and into redolent plains and open air. It was difficult to breathe through the sack Darius had thrown over his head, but Valinos could tell from the fresher air when they had exited the city grounds.

    ¡®How are you feeling?¡¯ Darius called behind him.

    ¡®Like my ribs are being rolled over stones,¡¯ Valinos said in a muffled voice.

    Darius chuckled. ¡®Just a bit longer, then we can take a break.¡¯

    Valinos grunted.

    ¡®The land is beautiful at this time of day,¡¯ Darius said, as the earthquake of Mas¨¬lminur¡¯s hoofs trod onwards.

    Valinos groaned at the Amarant¡¯s sense of humour, but he cracked a sly, unseen smile beneath his covering. ¡®You¡¯re enjoying this, aren¡¯t you?¡¯

    Darius¡¯ sole answer was to turn the horse in a way Valinos was sure deliberately made the weapons and supplies dig into his side more.

    As the day heated up and Valinos started to sweat, he tried to remember that his time among fire and metal in the forge was sometimes just as uncomfortable. The memories which came back, of Paran and life in Silnod¨¬r, were interrupted by rocky shudders and violent bounces.

    The break in the journey could not have come too soon. With relief, Valinos noted Darius was slowing down. The Amarant brought Mas¨¬lminur to a stop and hopped off. When the sack came off, Valinos took a deep, welcome breath and squinted at daylight¡¯s assault.

    Darius seized Valinos and hauled him off the horse, setting him upright and keeping a hold on him while Valinos wiggled life back into his feet. His back complained as he stretched and he could not tell whether his spine or his ribs ached more.

    Darius reached into a pouch and brought out a flat, leathery waterskin.

    ¡®For the bruising,¡¯ he said, holding it out for Valinos to take.

    It was cold to the touch. Valinos reached under his jerkin and doublet and pressed the waterskin to his side. He shivered as the pack soothed some of his soreness.

    ¡®Make sure you drink from it too, after,¡¯ Darius said as he set to unpacking further supplies.

    As Valinos¡¯ eyes adjusted to the brightness, he noticed they were in the shade of an unfamiliar mesa. Ridges made angular shapes around them, coloured like sandstone but for scant patches of vegetation.

    ¡®Where are we?¡¯ Valinos asked.

    ¡®Northeast, en route to Taeladran, but further from the forest.¡¯

    Valinos nodded. ¡®We¡¯re wanting to avoid our visitor from last time, I suppose?¡¯

    ¡®That, and there are some settlements along this road, as well as some streams. It will give us a chance to stock up on water for the road.¡¯

    Darius took a bite out of what looked like a plain wheatcake and broke some off for Valinos. Clearly, lunch was not going to be anything succulent and rich.

    ¡®We¡¯ll take the long route,¡¯ Darius continued. ¡®This way, we¡¯ll be seen and heard, but that¡¯s what we want. We want word to spread. Hopefully, the story precedes our arrival. Unfortunately, this will mean more longsuffering on your part.¡¯

    ¡®Emphasis on suffering,¡¯ Valinos said with a grimace. He shifted the waterskin¡¯s position on his body.

    ¡®Give it a little over a tide. The rumours will be strong enough. That¡¯s all people need. A glimpse of something that tickles their desire for that which is out of the ordinary, something to talk about. A spark to spread half-truths like wildfire.¡¯

    ¡®How do you think the others are faring?¡¯

    ¡®More well-off than you, I wager.¡¯ Darius clasped Valinos¡¯ shoulder with a laugh.

    ¡®That hurt,¡¯ Valinos said with a wince.

    Darius chucked. ¡®You¡¯re made of strong stuff, boy. This is a decent plan.¡¯ He looked off into the distance for a while before speaking. ¡®A division of soldiers will have left Fara¡¯ethar by now. Ostensibly, they are to pursue me. People will be watching and will spread further news of a renegade Amarant. To them, it will appear that the Empire¡¯s armies have given up somewhere near the forest and returned home fruitless. Of course, we¡¯re counting on the common man¡¯s inability to count, for not all the soldiers will turn back.¡¯

    ¡®And so, little by little, the army moves in to the forest and meets us out near the Eye?¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s right. They¡¯ll repeat that process a few times and get our forces into Gohenur. That¡¯s why the need for us to delay a bit. We don¡¯t want to show up at the Eye unassisted.¡¯

    Valinos lifted the waterskin out and took a drink. He stretched his neck and arms, steeling himself for another stint in the hostage¡¯s position.

    ¡®Darius?¡¯ he asked.

    ¡®Yes, lad?¡¯

    ¡®Can we train some more, before we set out again?¡¯

    Darius accosted him with one of his icy stares. ¡®For what purpose?¡¯

    ¡®You know better than I do that this expedition is likely to take a turn for the worse. I want to be of as much use as I can. Besides, I need to really move before you tie me up again.¡¯ Valinos reached for his two blades, hidden among the baggage, and set himself into a stance.

    ¡®Fine,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®We can have a bout now since we are unseen, but we¡¯ll ride twice as far tonight.¡¯

    Valinos gave a taunting smile and signalled his readiness. The Amarant reached for Blackfrost.

    This would be helpful, Valinos thought, when the time came. He had tried. He had tried to keep his mind clear. He had tried to keep a cool head. But he could not fully shake the feeling he was gripped by when he realised where he was headed. He was on a collision course with those who had thrown his life in turmoil. And whatever happened, even if not for true payback, he would at least pry for some answers.

    After the training, the painful ride continued as the day dragged on. With few words and fewer stops, Amarant Darius rode out with the severity of one heading to war. In a way, that is what awaited Valinos as well. He once again reflected on how distant a concept war had been formerly, when he had simply been a supplier of tools and implements, before being caught in its winds.

    Without a way to tell the time, Valinos went from one pang of discomfort to another. Only the cooling temperature told him that night was approaching. He tried focusing on other things; Fen¡¯asel¡¯s scent when she was close, the freedom he had felt in the sky, the delight Asphales had seen even through the dark turns of this journey. All these things worked like a gentle balm, numbing his mind¡¯s painful fixation on his body.

    Mas¨¬lminur galloped ever onwards. Valinos heard passing streams in blissful flow, caravans of puzzled traders, and herds of grazing animals. The merchants had proved most interesting, as they informed Darius he was not the first Kerenani they had seen along the road this day, a fact the Amarant had clearly found odd. They rode on for a few more watches, more silent still.

    At length, Darius had them stop by a watering hole. With the blindfold off again, Valinos took in different colours than when he could last see ¨C now the soft blue and indigo of night. He refreshed himself with a drink and stretched throbbing limbs.

    ¡®How are you feeling, lad?¡¯ asked Darius.

    ¡®I had forgotten what clean air tastes like. I sincerely hope there will be something left of me to hand over to the Order at journey¡¯s end.¡¯

    ¡®Indeed, otherwise this whole endeavour is futile. In a way, you could say you hold this entire quest together, boy.¡¯

    Valinos laughed and refilled his waterskin. He looked around. Here, with no town¡¯s lights on the horizon, the night¡¯s brilliance took centre stage. The stars shone bright, as Valinos had rarely seen. Even Darius, standing close by, was a silhouette against the cosmic lights.

    ¡®What¡¯s up ahead?¡¯ Valinos asked, looking at an indistinct horizon of black, cut-out shapes.

    ¡®We¡¯ll come within a few leagues of Taeladran once we leave this valley. From there, it¡¯ll be a harder trek as the land steepens.¡¯

    ¡®Taeladran? Are we still welcome there?¡¯

    ¡®Probably not. But at least it will not be hostile.¡¯

    Valinos stoppered his waterskin and put it away. ¡®Alright, I¡¯m ready.¡¯

    ¡®Not just yet. We can stop here for the night, lad. Let¡¯s find a place to camp, away from the road.¡¯

    Valinos was glad for the darkness, as he was sure the relief on his face would have been visible. He returned to the horse and assisted with packing away some supplies. Darius led the steed over a ridge beyond the watering hole and into some rocky nooks. Shielded away from a cold night breeze, Valinos made bedding with several blankets. Darius had gone a bit further on to take care of Mas¨¬lminur. The Amarant did not return by the time Valinos slipped into a short and fitful sleep.

    The second day came with much the same patterns as before. An unpleasant early start, long stretches of sore riding, and dwelling on better thoughts to remind Valinos that this will all have been worth it.

    On this day, they had passed by larger villages on the Empire¡¯s eastern front. Fara¡¯ethar still had presence here, as evidenced by the posted guards. Darius chose to heckle these guards on their duty, making comments of an unrefined nature toward the Empire. From what Valinos could tell, the Amarant had even picked up a spear and hurled it at a group of shocked soldiers. No one had been wounded, but the effect had been palpable. And within a day, news from the castle will have met the reports coming in from the hinterland and the resulting maelstrom of infamy would have repercussions reaching the Order¡¯s ears. That was the hope, at least. All they would need to do is continue on this road, degrading Darius¡¯ reputation (and Valinos¡¯ body) until the moment of payoff.

    The third day saw Darius and Valinos turn north. The city of Taeladran was a distant but distinct feature to their left, its gleaming stone walls jutting out against the flatter land and sky. Seeing it brought fresh memories of what Darius had done, and fresh struggles with the consequences that action had wrought.

    ¡®How do you really feel about your dismissal?¡¯ Valinos probed.

    Darius was not forthcoming in answering.

    ¡®I mean,¡¯ Valinos tried again, ¡®the world is potentially ending and they¡¯re worried about protocol? Didn¡¯t you do the right thing?¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s a dangerous way of thinking,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®The rightness of a result doesn¡¯t justify the means of its action. Yes, I believe I was right, but I believe what has befallen me as a consequence is right also. I cannot accept one without the other. Otherwise, we¡¯d be no better than the Order, who desire the easy answers afforded by rash methods and kick against the goads of consequence.¡¯

    ¡®You know them well, don¡¯t you?¡¯

    Amarant Darius said no more that afternoon until meal break, where he did not seem keen to answer the question but steered conversation toward lighter matters. Valinos groaned inwardly but gratefully accepted the Amarant¡¯s cooking. Along the way, Darius had procured additional ingredients from the itinerant merchants and was now able to offer up something more than stale wheatcake and dry fruit. The heartier meal went some way toward alleviating Valinos¡¯ aching body and he savoured the time he was able to spend on his own two legs.

    It was a shame when the cowl had to go back on and he was thrown over the side of the steed again, for the tousled forests and winding rivers around them were picturesque. Ahead, the contours of the Undorn mountains grew ever closer.

    The ride picked up again (as did the pain) as the Amarant turned east once more. Valinos could hear another batch of townsfolk and passers-by point and shout as Darius sped past. More fuel for the fire of rumour.

    Well-worn thoughts for comfort seemed to be less effective now, and Valinos¡¯ mind ruminated on the earlier conversation. That is what I need. A determination to accept that what I¡¯m doing is right, regardless of the cost. He aspired to this one thing: that he would, in time, determine what needed doing for himself and wrench strength from somewhere to follow through with it.

    By the fourth day, Taeladran was receding behind them, and Darius and Valinos took more frequent breaks, owing to the harder going over the hills. Nearer the mountains, the autumn chill was even more pronounced. Valinos put on another jacket, while Darius donned his signature pelt coat. Keeping them going was the thought that the journey¡¯s difficulty would pay dividends. They had left a trail of gossip in their wake as the sight of a lone Amarant with a prisoner in tow spawned confusing and conflicting news.

    Around a fire, Valinos spared a glance toward the forest. To the north, he could see Gohenur snaking along with the lay of the land. He wondered how Asphales¡¯ own journey was progressing. This had been the longest the two were separated since setting out from Silnod¨¬r.

    Darius¡¯ mood had changed, and he appeared more nervous, glancing around them and shifting constantly, on the lookout for something Valinos could not guess at. When asked, he simply said that ¡®the words of those traders have set me on edge.¡¯ Valinos did not know what significance the presence of a Kerenani portended but Darius stayed tight-lipped on the matter. Some family history, perhaps?If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    At least the food had improved. For between the stints of harder trekking, Valinos witnessed Darius¡¯ hunting prowess and camping at night in the cold now at least had the benefit of warm, cooked game.

    It was as one such break came to a close and the two were preparing to head off again that something of a snag interrupted what had so far been a smooth plan. Valinos had collected his gear and was carrying it back to Mas¨¬lminur. Stepping into the clearing where the horse was stationed, he found it empty. Then, he was distracted by a ruffled bush. Given their sheltered position, it was not the wind. A scurrying hill creature, maybe?

    He stepped closer, but some instinct drove him to leap to the side when he caught a glint in the air. A moment later, the blade of a throwing axe collided with the stone wall behind him, shooting sparks. Valinos crashed to the ground, spilling his collected belongings. He rolled to a stop and snapped his gaze to the bush. His hands felt for his swords among the debris.

    A shape crept out, more a shadow since the light was so low.

    ¡®Darius!¡¯ Valinos yelled.

    ¡®So, he is here,¡¯ the assailant said. ¡®Looks like we¡¯ve found ye.¡¯ The man from the bush whistled. At his signal, several others figures appeared above the stones. Valinos panicked. His shaking hand found one of his swords and he stood up, drawing it.

    ¡®Looks like pup wants to play,¡¯ one of the men above goaded. Two others hopped down.

    Valinos stepped back, feeling his way through the rocky passage back to the campsite, his eyes on the approaching figures. Then one materialised as if from nowhere and swung. Valinos brought up his sword wildly, barely in time to connect with the assailant¡¯s weapon. He stumbled backwards and ran for the campsite.

    Emerging out into the open space, the fire was still blazing. Breathing hard, Valinos look around for Darius. The Amarant was already prepared. He charged out from behind the flames, Blackfrost equipped, and hacked at the figure who had followed Valinos. The man yelled and fell back into shadow.

    ¡®Are you alright?¡¯ Darius asked, his eyes ahead on other emerging figures.

    ¡®Yeah,¡¯ Valinos wheezed.

    ¡®Good. Stay behind me.¡¯

    ¡®Let me help,¡¯ Valinos hissed. ¡®I¡¯ll show you that I have been paying attention to your lessons.¡¯

    Darius nodded. Valinos prepared his stance and collected his thoughts. He had not been in a true fight since the encounter in Gohenur. How long ago that seemed. He brought up a trembling blade.

    Be still, you fool. His hand continued to shake. Be still, damn you. Gulren did not listen.

    ¡®What do you want?¡¯ Darius called out as the men assembled before him. There were five out in the open. Valinos could not tell if the man who had been at the unfortunate end of Darius¡¯ blade had rejoined them, or if there were others hidden in the shadow still. But he could discern these were Kerenani mercenaries, armed with axes and swords, wearing fur and steel. And even in the weak light of the fire, their blond hair and facial features bore striking resemblance to Darius¡¯ own.

    ¡®As if you don¡¯t know what your head¡¯s worth, krahat.¡¯

    ¡®Right. By your own admission, you¡¯re after me.¡¯ Darius¡¯ voice lowered, becoming colder than the night. ¡®So tell me, why did you attack my friends?¡¯

    ¡®Anyone associated with you deserves the same,¡¯ one of them yelled out and rushed forward. If he intended to take the Amarant by surprise, the man failed. With ferocious speed, Darius brought Blackfrost up to meet the man¡¯s charge. A blink later, and the man laid down dead, his head several feet away from his crumpled body.

    One of the mercenaries, with more sense and weapons than the others, looked at the corpse and spat. ¡®Fanhus was a fool. Together, men.¡¯

    Feet scraped dirt behind Valinos. He spun in fear and noticed three other mercenaries encroaching, grinning.

    ¡®Who¡¯s the lad with you?¡¯ asked one of the mercenaries. ¡®Some bastard son of yours?¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯d be wise not to touch him,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®He¡¯s worth more than me. And you¡¯ll have more than my ire to face if any harm befalls him.¡¯

    ¡®What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡¯

    ¡®Why don¡¯t you ask Cerus, that old imbecile? I would wager he¡¯s courting far more than he can handle, as is his custom.¡¯

    ¡®You dare insult our king?¡¯

    ¡®I do. When he¡¯s blind to how his supposed allies maraud his own shores? When the Order has him dance to their tune? Weakling.¡¯

    Valinos started. Kerena and the Order, allies? When had Darius pieced that together?

    ¡®I understand now,¡¯ the mercenary at the front said. ¡®Horkhen!¡¯ he barked. The word sparked action from the others, who approached in unison with weapons drawn. Valinos and Darius each retreated until they were back-to-back, close to the fire.

    ¡®What are you doing?¡¯ Valinos asked. ¡®And what do we do?¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯re making it to the Eye, with or without me,¡¯ Darius whispered.

    Valinos had no time to voice further complaints as the mercenaries closed in. He focused on the one directly ahead of him. The rush made him forget the burning in his back and ribs.

    Remember your training. You are not the same weakling anymore. He looked for tell-tale signs in the enemy¡¯s movement, indicators of what he would do. A twitch in the hand, a brusque jerk of the face.

    The warrior moved as expected, and Valinos responded accordingly. Gulren sailed swiftly and left a mark across the mercenary¡¯s arm. The man growled and retaliated with a charge. Valinos spun. He blocked the incoming axe, but quickly stepped back to keep track of another mercenary, nearing fast. He caught a glimpse of Darius block two men at once with Blackfrost¡¯s length and push them back. Another swing downed a third approaching victim.

    But there were too many. Between keeping eyes on his own targets, Valinos spotted yet another get close to Darius, unnoticed. Valinos cursed his distance and inability to get close. He blocked more swings from his own assailants and watched with terror as the unseen man approached the Amarant. Valinos started to scream Darius¡¯ name.

    Not here. Not again.

    Valinos felt sluggish. The firelight threw shifting, flickering shadows on the stones. One of these shadows did not look human.

    Suddenly, the sound of trotting hoofs arose. The shape Valinos had noticed belonged to Mas¨¬lminur. The stallion rushed in and knocked the man behind Darius to the ground. Cries from the mercenaries rose as they had to contend with the wildly charging horse in their midst.

    In tow, other horses followed, these ones bearing riders. Wide-eyed, Valinos stared as the newcomers stampeded through the campsite and brought several men down with their blades. In the wild show of flame and shadow, he recognised the man at their head. Bald, scarred, and burly, Captain Kasil of Taeladran had somehow found them and was now saving them.

    Valinos breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Darius unharmed, himself glancing around in surprise. ¡®Keep one alive, at least,¡¯ the Amarant shouted to the captain.

    The captain¡¯s forces routed the mercenaries. Those who had not fallen scrambled back to the narrow rocky passages, probably heading for their own mounts to escape. Darius pounced on one man who had been too slow to get away. He brought the mercenary down into dirt and restrained him, while the captain¡¯s horsemen rounded the campsite and secured the area.

    Valinos signalled his thanks as Captain Kasil passed by on his steed. He dismounted and approached. The moonglint blade he now carried shimmered distinctly along his belt. Darius had just finished tying up the man on the ground and slipped the hood over his face. He stood and greeted the captain by clasping his hand.

    ¡®I didn¡¯t expect to see you around these parts so soon,¡¯ Kasil said in his usual staid tone.

    ¡®Considering what happened, that is a fair expectation,¡¯ Darius replied. ¡®How did you find us?¡¯

    ¡®Odd tidings had reached Taeladran about a rogue Amarant and I set out to investigate. There were reports also of some Kerenani prowling about. I thought surely the Kerenani I know is not so stupid as to return to the place from which he was so unceremoniously released.¡¯

    Darius smiled.

    ¡®We were nearby,¡¯ the captain continued, ¡®when your steed intercepted us and led us right to you. Quite the creature you¡¯ve got there.¡¯

    So that¡¯s where Mas¨¬lminur ran off to, Valinos thought.

    ¡®While I am grateful for the assistance, captain, I¡¯m afraid this sortie has complicated our plight.¡¯ Darius proceeded to explain, in brief, the circumstances which had led to their peril, omitting key details about the nature of their task.

    ¡®Can I assist in any way?¡¯ the captain asked. ¡®I¡¯m sorry I cannot offer you refuge in the city, but we can send you onward better equipped.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you, captain. We have urgent need to be at the Eye, but we cannot afford for those who escaped to relay news of this, to anyone. We have been spreading a very specific story. It would come undone if word got out of what transpired here.¡¯

    ¡®I see.¡¯

    ¡®So, rather than your material help, may we ask instead that you pursue the rest of the mercenaries? Silence them or detain them, however you deem fit, until all this has passed. We need to go on alone. Can we have your trust in this?¡¯

    Kasil nodded and drew out his moonglint blade. ¡®You may. What will you do with him?¡¯ The captain¡¯s eyes fell to the captured man. Hooded, he seemed to alert enough to be listening.

    ¡®We have need of him. We¡¯ll leave him for your men to find upon your return.¡¯ Then Darius lowered his voice. ¡®Worry not, captain. I have no intent to take another life here.¡¯

    Kasil remounted his horse. ¡®Go on ahead, but do not take the open road. There are friendly peoples in the mountain passes who will make your journey easier. Starlight guide you.¡¯

    With one authoritative gesture, the captain rounded up his force and made off south, in pursuit. Soon, there was quiet around the now-extinguished and deserted campsite, save for the soft struggling of the man tied down on the ground. Mas¨¬lminur trotted in, gentle as he could, and found his master. The Amarant embraced the horse¡¯s head. ¡®You did well, boy.¡¯ Valinos looked on, reminiscing on the bond he and Gidius the eagle had shared. He wondered if something would come of it, or if had been a single, fortunate instance.

    Darius wiped sweat and blood from his brow and collected himself before he approached the prisoner. He lit a torch. Valinos followed, a few steps behind. The man struggled to sit up but managed, expectant.

    Darius flung the hood off the man¡¯s head. His features winced from wounds and the sudden brightness in his face.

    ¡®You know why I keep you alive,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®You have one use now.¡¯

    The man chuckled, coughing from some injury or other. ¡®You¡¯re worse than the stories, Darius. But you should hear what they say about you.¡¯

    ¡®I know what they say. They don¡¯t know the half of it. But right now, I¡¯m interested in what you will say, my friend. Consider your words.¡¯

    ¡®But Raia knew, didn¡¯t she?¡¯ the man said, winking. ¡®She knew you best.¡¯ Valinos looked at the Amarant, and though he gave no discernible reaction at first, Darius gripped the man forcefully, pressing on the prisoner¡¯s shoulder. The man suppressed a squeal.

    ¡®You¡¯re not saying what I need you to say, friend,¡¯ said Darius.

    The captured man threw a look towards Valinos and smirked. ¡®Do we have to do this in front of the kid? You¡¯re cruel.¡¯

    ¡®If you know the stories, you¡¯d be aware I have no qualms taking on my own kinsmen. Speak.¡¯

    The man sighed. ¡®Alright. Free my arm.¡¯

    ¡®Why?¡¯

    ¡®Because what I have to show you is more interesting than what I can say.¡¯

    Darius held on to the man, unmoving.

    ¡®No, truly,¡¯ the prisoner pleaded. ¡®You¡¯ll need this. You¡¯re going to ahead to that Eye place. I¡¯ll show you how to stay hidden once you¡¯re nearby. Where do you think we came from?¡¯

    Darius considered for a moment. ¡®Stand back, Valinos,¡¯ he said. Then he bent down and released the strip holding the man¡¯s left hand. The other was still tied to his feet.

    The captured man stretched life into his fingers and then flattened the dirt with his palm, indicating that was going to etch something, a map perhaps. It took a moment too long for his intent to become clear.

    ¡®The Iron King of Kerena brooks no rivals and bears no failure,¡¯ he said. ¡®Hail Cerus.¡¯ At that, his hand found an object from within his coat. A blade flashed. He brought the thin metal to his own throat, and with a jerk, drove it through.

    Valinos recoiled. Darius jumped to hold the man¡¯s arm back, but it was too late. The man sputtered and kicked, then went still.

    ¡®Damn! What do we do now?¡¯ Valinos asked.

    The Amarant stood up, eyes down at the dead man. ¡®We go on as planned. We¡¯ll aim for the mountainfolk the captain mentioned.¡¯

    Valinos looked around, taking in the chaos of the campsite. Strewn bodies and detritus told of the night¡¯s insanity. ¡®Perhaps we¡¯ve drawn too much attention to ourselves?¡¯ he quipped.

    ¡®We¡¯ll be more careful from here on out. We¡¯ll take the unseen paths.¡¯

    ¡®And what do we do about him?¡¯

    ¡®I hope the captain understands.¡¯

    Before they left, Darius covered the prisoner in some discarded rags. He affixed a note to the corpse, written in blood since no utensils were readily available. Macabre, but it had to do in such circumstances.

    ¡®I¡¯m not wearing that hood again,¡¯ Valinos said.

    ¡®I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll need to.¡¯

    On they went, ever upward as the bones of the Undorn range defined the landscape more and more and their slopes steepened. It was slow going among the rocky outcrops and crags. In places, spells of snow fell and the wind carried icy flakes, obscuring the paths and making some utterly untraversable. Valinos walked at the rear, hands in makeshift manacles to appear bonded to any prying eyes. Darius trudged ahead, seemingly suited for the colder weather.

    The fourth night was cold and difficult. Provisions mostly spent, they huddled in a cavern. The wind howled, threatening to extinguish their paltry flame and expel them into darkness. And all throughout, haunting Valinos¡¯ waking thoughts and slumbering dreams, were the dying man¡¯s final moments; the self-sure eyes, the gurgling throat which sounded like raspy laughter.

    The fifth day came white and clear, but just as cold. They emerged out of the cavern to find their road blanketed in snow. Darius spied a gushing spring among the ice-encrusted rocks, and refilled their waterskins before letting Mas¨¬lminur have his fill also. In the night, Valinos had not been able to tell the altitude they had reached, but now under an empty sky he could see how the land had risen around them. Landmarks they had passed were flecks below, the rivers mere lines drawn in unliving ink. Ahead, peak formations spread out as far as he could see, some clumped together like teeth, while others stood solitary and sheer.

    The Amarant navigated over and through the ridges, keeping to as even a road as he could. He seemed to be searching for signs of habitation. Valinos took in the sights as he followed, glad in one sense for his trappings since he was sure his wandering eyes would lead him to a crumbling edge or unstable bluff otherwise. He had not been so high before, not on land at least. And while these heights did not compare with the freedom he had felt riding the eagle, there was comfort still in being closer to the sky like this. His thoughts went out to Asphales again, not simply in concern for where he might be, but also in peculiar gratitude to him for the experiences this journey had brought.

    Valinos¡¯ legs had numbed from the cold and stiffened from the effort of the hike by the time the trio reached their goal. It was as night spread over the hilltops like a velvet sheet that they had finally spotted something promising: torchlight up ahead. Fortuitously, the path now descended, making the trek over to the hamlet easier. Even better, Darius unfastened his bonds before entering the town¡¯s premises. A good move, Valinos thought, for what hospitality would an admitted peddler of prisoners receive?

    It was not long before their entrance was noticed. Darius slowed his pace and came out, holding on to Mas¨¬lminur¡¯s reigns. His weapon was visibly sheathed.

    The figures who approached were covered in fur. In the dim light, Valinos could have mistaken them for bears or other mountain creatures. But fortunately, their demeanour was kinder than that of beasts.

    ¡®Hail,¡¯ one of them called. ¡®Who are you? Do you come peacefully?¡¯ The man¡¯s accent was not one Valinos had heard before.

    ¡®Peacefully,¡¯ Darius said. He let go of the horse¡¯s reins and took a few steps forward, arms out to the side. ¡®I am a warrior of Fara¡¯ethar, accompanied by my apprentice and my steed. We¡¯re sorry to intrude at this hour, but we have an urgent task and we are in need of shelter, provisions, anything you are able to spare in your kindness. But say the word and we will be on our way if we are not welcome.¡¯

    ¡®Fara¡¯ethar, you say?¡¯ the man said, drawing closer. ¡®They¡¯re good folk, usually. What is your name?¡¯ He held an implement of sorts, using it to support himself in the snow as he walked.

    ¡®Darius Inidir¨­n,¡¯ the Amarant said. ¡®And this is Valinos.¡¯ Valinos bowed, unsure if that was proper around these parts.

    ¡®I am Hek¡¯aneth,¡¯ the man said. ¡®Chief of the Mu¡¯adur mountainfolk. You are welcome here.¡¯ He brought a fist up, touching the back of his hand to his forehead.

    ¡®Thank you,¡¯ Darius said.

    ¡®You are known to us, Darius. Queer are the words that have reached our ears.¡¯

    Valinos felt his mind agitate. Had the kind greeting been in vain? The men murmured among themselves for a while, long enough to make him nervous of their intentions.

    ¡®But,¡¯ the chief picked up at last, after glancing at some of the others who had gathered, ¡®we¡¯ll be the judges of your character. We are no fools to blindly trust hearsay. They are mere ripples. We will discern the pebble dropped into the lake. This is a hardy truth: a man will make the measure of his worth clear soon enough.¡¯

    ¡®You speak kindly,¡¯ Darius said.

    ¡®Come on, now,¡¯ said Hek¡¯aneth. ¡®Let us get you out of the cold.¡¯ The chief whistled, sounding like a hawk in flight. Two other men approached and assisted them with their horse and luggage.

    ¡®These are my sons, Loh¡¯aneth and Rual¡¯aneth.¡¯ Valinos caught a glimpse of them as they came to take some supplies. They were young, but their features were not those of simple youth. Their faces and postures seemed weathered, tested. Their smiles came quick and their eyes were warm, but they had sharp noses and strong cheeks.

    ¡®This way,¡¯ one of them said.

    The chief and his sons led them through thinning trees and into the village proper. As he walked, Valinos saw that Hek¡¯aneth, too, had his sons¡¯ powerful traits, albeit all the more distinctive on the ageing man. Long and braided white hair graced his head, and a nose sharp as a mountain-peak guided him. He wore a garment that look as old as the earth itself, adorned with natural memorabilia ¨C leaves, stones, teeth.

    ¡®What is this place?¡¯ Valinos asked as he was taken around a snow-covered lodge. The building¡¯s logs looked like entire trees had been gathered, shorn of branches and their trunks assembled into walls.

    ¡®This village has no name, like this mountain,¡¯ the chief said. He looked at Valinos through old, granite eyes. ¡®Oh, men may bestow names to these peaks, but what do those short-lived titles mean to the undying stone? We have names, for we too will pass on. But for as long as there has been a mountain, our people have been here too, and our home will go on though the stone forget our faces.¡¯

    Valinos was not sure he understood, but he took the old man¡¯s sincerity to heart. Right now, he was more eager to find a place to rest. Presently, Hek¡¯aneth departed with Darius and took him to a different area of the village, presumably the equivalent of a stable. Valinos was left on the doorstep of the lodge-like building. ¡®Go up,¡¯ the chief had said, ¡®and you will be shown to your bedding for the night. We will discuss payment on the morrow.¡¯

    A woman met him at the entry. ¡®I am Ren¡¯arath,¡¯ she said, mimicking the chief¡¯s earlier gesture. ¡®Welcome.¡¯ She, too, wore a draping fur coat.

    ¡®Thank you,¡¯ Valinos staid, stumbling in. Fatigue was settling in. The woman had said something more to him, but the words barely registered, and even the walk to his assigned room was a blur.

    Away from the constant flow of air, the stench that followed him had become suddenly and unpleasantly clear. Grime, sweat, even blood¡ªcomposite smells all competed for the attention of Valinos¡¯ nose. With some difficulty, Valinos managed to find another attendant and be pointed to a place where he could bathe.

    After nearly falling asleep from the serene heat of the bathwater, Valinos started to attention and finished up. All his thoughts were for a bed. He headed back to his room and shut the door.

    All was quiet. Blissful. Black. There was no light in this room, but the darkness was inviting. There was a cosy musk about the chamber, like aged pine and wool. Valinos collapsed on his bedding and wrapped a linen blanket around himself, feeling like five days¡¯ worth of exhaustion was already fleeing. His ribs and back thanked him.

    A snowy wind had begun raging outside his warm cabin, and all other movement beyond his window ceased. Valinos fell into sleep to calmer thoughts; a mellow valley nestled between peaks, a peculiar interlude of peace between tides of war and storm.

 Chapter Twenty-six - Valour Unseen

    Over a tide had passed under the forest¡¯s watchful eyes. It was easy to forget the outside world here deep, deep among the trees where the true music of the forest played and not even light was master of the day. The canopy above spread out in its cracked, crystalline patterns, as if between the foliage one were looking up at inverted rivers in the sky. Venturing further in, these shapes had closed in and overlapped, until the sun was only allowed to pierce through in spear-thin shafts.

    Ad¨¦lia took in the forest air as if it were her own sweet breath. She hemmed herself in the woody colours as if they were her own garments. And she heeded the furtive sounds of clear streams and clever animals in the utter silence as if her own voice were sounding out, questing for release.

    Others did not seem so at ease. The army had been admitted in the tangles winding the forest¡¯s old, old heart, into portions of the wood seldom seen by even the most inquisitive of eyes. To Ad¨¦lia, it seemed as if they were traversing deeper into her own guarded heart, and though not every root-covered path was familiar, the way was known nonetheless, in the way one instinctively navigates obstacles and hardship. If anything, her own anxiety swelled over what more she would be called to unveil, what more this journey would demand. But here in the woods, enveloped in living colours and calming light, Ad¨¦lia was at peace.

    She could tell quite a few of the others were nervous, jumping at a creak up in the trees or a rustle on the edge of vision. As for her, she thanked the trees for their vigilant shelter. For the previous days had passed without disturbance and with no resistance to speak of beyond stubborn tree branches and moss. Their path had taken them in the vicinity of a nest of rannak once, but they were far smaller and more docile than the one which roused trouble near Taeladran, so the mane¡¯s soldiers walked on unmolested.

    And indeed, Gohenur was fulfilling its primary duty on this crossing rather well, that of keeping the mane unseen and ushering in further companies. All had gone smoothly thus far.

    Of course, the felicity brought on by the forest sights was only secondary to the main task of ensuring the expedition¡¯s success. And that meant attending to all the domestic aspects expected of an Amarant. Ad¨¦lia monitored the division¡¯s formation, with each pair or small group travelling sufficiently spaced apart so as to not crowd the trodden paths and make their passing obvious, and yet never out of eyesight or earshot of another.

    Coordinating the logistics of a multi-division approach which sought to remain invisible was more difficult still. This first detachment was making its way north-eastward not far from the east bank of the Valarion, leaving a trail for the others to follow. Their going would be slowest when determining the best way forward and leaving markings for those who would be on their tail. The swiftness of their start was afforded by the scarcity of their supplies. Emergency provisions were acquired by supply-runners who would trek from the forest to nearby towns along the river. But it would be a daunting prospect to be stranded in Gohenur without resources, so Ad¨¦lia¡¯s division relied on the arrival of other companies who had left Fara¡¯ethar later, better-stocked.

    All this done under the disorienting cover of the forest.

    And above all, it was incumbent to look after the needs and concerns of each soldier.

    ¡®No room to breathe here,¡¯ one had complained. So Amarant Ad¨¦lia had him reassigned as runner to be out for fresh air.

    ¡®Can¡¯t even tell where we¡¯re going,¡¯ another grouched. So Amarant Ad¨¦lia had him personally act as spotter, climbing up a tall oak to ensure they were still heading toward the cleft in the Undorn under which the Dragon¡¯s Eye lay.

    Their discontentment did not bother Ad¨¦lia, who took each chance to provide a call the grumbling soldier could answer. She had found that in most cases, men responded appreciatively, carrying out their responsibility well and welcoming the relief. And she, in turn, was glad for their company and commitment in the face of the unknown.

    Ishak¡¯s division had arrived at the end of the third day, providing much-needed supplies for the nights and restocking their rations. The sub-commander¡¯s presence also mitigated the job of keeping order. Ishak barked commands and directed the men, perhaps less graciously than she might have done, but no less effectively.

    There were moments of levity also. El¡¯enur, nimble and sure-footed, climbed trees to scope out fruit and nuts. From his lofty vantage point, he pestered passing soldiers with those edible projectiles. His aim had been true, but so had Ishak¡¯s reprimanding words. ¡®It¡¯s a good thing Darius isn¡¯t here, boy,¡¯ he had said. ¡®Otherwise, you¡¯d have it right back at you.¡¯ Both El¡¯enur and the assaulted men laughed. For good measure, Ishak joined in, too.

    Several days into the journey, in an open pocket within the unmapped twisted tangles of Gohenur, Ad¨¦lia¡¯s company rested around a roaring fire and under a close and starless cloudy sky they could almost scrape with their lances. Nights offered the chance for camaraderie mostly denied by the still distance of each day. To minimise fires, and hence signals of their presence, companies banded together for evening meals. It was around the flames that men loosened their guards and forgot their nerves, and they shared food, drink, and jests, the stuff of life itself.

    Ad¨¦lia patrolled the clearing, taking note of the division¡¯s distribution and those which were yet to arrive, and keeping mental inventory of their supplies. Soldiers lounged about, some with blankets wrapped around their armour. Each was engaged in conversation or some light game. El¡¯enur was entertaining a group with a fanciful story, no doubt. Firelight glinted off their pauldrons. The surrounding trees were slicked with the shadowy shapes of men.

    But away from the simmering smells of soups and meat spits, a figure sat on his own behind a tree at the edge of the clearing.

    Asphales. Asphales Es¨¦linor, hunched over on a log, seemingly wrestling with his own dark thoughts. His blade hung loosely in his hands.

    Ad¨¦lia approached.

    ¡®For once, I seem to have stumbled on to you,¡¯ she said.

    Asphales turned. His eyes, usually lambent and lively, were dim in the shadow. Brown locks hovered heavily. He raised his head and attempted a smile.

    ¡®May I?¡¯ she asked, gesturing to an overturned log nearby.

    ¡®Please.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia seated herself. From behind, a thunderclap of laughter and groaning erupted. Elicited by El¡¯enur¡¯s concluding flourish, surely.

    Asphales lifted his sword, point down, and then let it sink in the dirt. He did this again, absentmindedly. Ad¨¦lia laid her spear aside and placed her hands on her lap. With the fires behind her, her shadow lengthened out into the deep dark of the forest.

    ¡®It was in a clearing much like this that everything went wrong, on that first journey,¡¯ Asphales began. ¡®It was in a place like this that I¡­ that I took a life.¡¯

    He leaned back, placing his head against the trunk. ¡®Ah, it was simpler when I only handled fishnets and sail ropes.¡¯

    ¡®What was that like?¡¯

    He closed his eyes, as if his mind were swimming out far over this forest and back into the familiar. ¡®I would sail north into the Silent Sea on fishing trips. The moment the docks became little spots in the distance was frightful, in the most exciting way. Out there, with nothing but the living ocean around and beneath you, I felt¡­ free and unburdened. Then it was back home, and though each trip out was an adventure, the return was pleasant also. I imagine our towns were much alike, little harbour settlements far more bustling than their size suggested.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, though I only watched the ships. I have never been on one. My childhood journeys took me inland.¡¯

    ¡®And I suppose I only ever watched soldiers with their swords. I had never handled one myself. But here I am. Well, that was the previous cycle of my life.¡¯

    Asphales left the silence hanging a moment.

    ¡®And now¡­¡¯ He looked down again, staring at his hands.

    ¡®I don¡¯t have answers, Asphales,¡¯ she said. ¡®Certainly not about our nature and destiny. That path is new to both of us. But know that taking a life does not get easier. Only one of coldest blood would expect or desire that. I should think this grim aspect of our duty will forever remain a stain we necessarily take on.¡¯

    ¡®Darius said something like that. Doing what must be done, so that others can do what should be done.¡¯ Asphales did not seem put at ease by that prospect.

    Ad¨¦lia reached out her hand to comfort him, but relented. A sudden pain seized her chest, a wave of coarse and burning sensations which threatened to extend itself. It felt much like the pain that had come upon her during her training. She drew her hand back and cursed the pirate¡¯s nameless face.

    As the pain subsided, the weight of dreams unfulfilled pressed down. All the things she had wanted¡ªthat she still wanted¡ªtaken from her. Doors closed. Paths shattered.

    The only opportunity left presented itself to her: not just to protect the world, not just to fulfil duty, but to avenge the memory of her family. Was it wrong that her heart¡¯s wishes were so interlaced with darkness? Purity and poison mingled within, but when she closed her eyes and the dying faces of her mother and father morphed into the sneering visage of the pirate lord, she found it difficult not to give in to that awful desire.

    Asphales glanced up. ¡®Ad¨¦lia?¡¯

    She looked at him, relieved that she did not need to feign strength, and nodded. For whenever she saw Asphales, her straying thoughts were reeled in, anchored into something solid and right. Yet the cost of her vulnerability made itself known again and again.

    ¡®Ad¨¦lia, I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ he stammered, alarmed.

    ¡®No, Asphales. I have no regrets about opening up to you. I knew somehow, from our first meeting, it was what I needed to do. And I am still convinced it will make us all the stronger. You know how my sights can get clouded and narrow. You keep me looking beyond it, to what we hope to achieve for our world.¡¯

    ¡®And you, Ad¨¦lia, keep me going when I am discouraged. Thank you for your words tonight.¡¯ He stood up, eyes aglint once more. ¡®Let me know if there is anything more I can do for you.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia rose as well. ¡®We only have a few more blissful nights before our goal. Come, join the rest of the company, and enjoy yourself.¡¯

    Asphales complied and let himself be brought back out to the clearing. The cloud cover had moved on, and a glimmering, waxing moon now swayed above the forest and the men still carrying on.

    El¡¯enur, now seated and enjoying a drink with some other soldiers, called out when he noticed them. ¡®Where¡¯ve you been, Asphales? Sulking out there on your own? One would think Valinos had tagged along with us!¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia and Asphales seated themselves by the fire. The heat was welcome, but it failed to warm a chill that had not fully dispersed from within her.

    ¡®I wonder how Valinos is going,¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®We¡¯ll get through this for him, so you can see him again,¡¯ said Ad¨¦lia.

    ¡®And hopefully there¡¯s something of him left to see,¡¯ joked El¡¯enur, ¡®once Darius is through with him.¡¯ The others laughed, and Asphales shook his head.

    ¡®Now, I hope you¡¯ve saved some food for me,¡¯ he said, looking around hopefully.

    Asphales was not known by name or face to many of the division¡¯s soldiers, so they took turns asking their questions and assessing him as he set to eating. Asphales seemed slightly awkward, but he took each inquiry in stride and spoke of his origin, experience, and aspirations. El¡¯enur threw in commendations of his own, speaking louder than was perhaps necessary. The fire lit up his reddened cheeks. Such comforts would become rarer the nearer they were to the Eye.

    With Asphales occupied, Ad¨¦lia sat back and inspected the clearing. Men moved about from group to group, rustling the leaves at their feet. Not far away, Ishak was speaking with others, his smile clear and bright. He could have been oiling his blade, or setting down cards. He might have been demonstrating how to harness a saddle or make a clever play. It did not matter. Ishak fit in so well with the men, as if he could hang his authority like a coat at the door and join in the revelry unattached. He was a friend to many, almost a father to her. He deserved better. He deserved¡ª

    ¡®My lady Ad¨¦lia?¡¯ A voice. Ad¨¦lia¡¯s attention fell back to the gathering around the fire before her. She had not yet grown accustomed to hear her name on the lips of another. It was young Telen who had spoken. He, along with others, were looking at her, as if expecting something. Clearly, Asphales¡¯ evaluation was complete and the conversation had moved on. He now had a chunk of pork in his mouth¡ªhis enjoyment no doubt delayed by the soldiers¡¯ inquisitive onslaughts.

    ¡®My lady,¡¯ Telen prompted, ¡®we were just sharing stories that are dear to us. Master Asphales has made it clear that the war on the Dragonking is his favourite. We were wondering what yours might be? Something from your childhood, perhaps?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯d wager it is the Tale of Lady Vildia,¡¯ offered Nehin, an older spearman from the mane. ¡®You remind us all of her.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you. But it is actually the Lay of Lanurel. That was always father¡¯s¡­ well, the one I liked best.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia distracted herself by peering at the edge of the glade. There, she caught sight of animals looking on curiously, wondering what disturbance had entered their forest. A doe was there, perked ears and keen eyes in the dark, attentive.

    ¡®Might we hear it, from the lips of our own Amarant?¡¯

    But just then, Ishak had walked over and clapped the young soldier on the shoulder. ¡®Telen, dish duty. Go join Rin and Valdar. You three eat enough for thirty.¡¯

    Telen groaned, but obeyed. And there it was. When need arose, Ishak did pick up that coat and discipline his children.

    ¡®Another evening perhaps, Telen,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia called out after the dejected soldier.

    ¡®A word, my lady?¡¯ Ishak said.

    Asphales hurriedly finished his morsel and pushed off the blanket that had been wrapped loosely around his legs. ¡®Ishak, I will join the others with the dishes.¡¯

    Ishak threw a respectful nod his way. Asphales¡¯ departure spurred the others around the fire to action also. Soon, even El¡¯enur had cleared out and the Amarant was alone with her sub-commander.

    ¡®What news?¡¯ she asked.

    ¡®We¡¯ve received word via eagle from some of the other divisions. Fourth division is a day¡¯s march behind, and fifth has entered Gohenur today.¡¯

    ¡®Good. We are on schedule, then.¡¯

    ¡®Indeed. And we are no more than four or five days out from the mountain range.¡¯

    ¡®We¡¯ll slow our pace, let the other divisions catch up to us, and share supplies for the final stretch.¡¯

    ¡®I concur.¡¯ A faint smile appeared on Ishak¡¯s face. His neat beard had signs of a few days¡¯ unkempt revolt.

    ¡®This is why you let the men off so easy tonight.¡¯

    ¡®Well, those on dish duty might not think it so.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia smiled. ¡®At least they will have earned their rest. And you more than most.¡¯

    ¡®You¡¯re too kind, my lady. But rest we shall need for what¡¯s ahead.¡¯

    ¡®Whatever that may be, starlight guide us.¡¯

    ¡®Regulus knows, we¡¯ll need it. Now, I better go make sure those boys know their wash-liquid from their blade-oils.¡¯

    ¡®Ishak?¡¯ she called out as the man turned to leave, his dark tabard swishing.

    ¡®Yes, my lady?¡¯

    ¡®Ishak, did you ever¡­ resent Ro?thia for her choice?¡¯

    At the mention of the previous Amarant¡¯s name, Ishak¡¯s eyes softened further. They were etched with longing.

    ¡®No, Carinae rest her. No.¡¯ It was not a tone you had reason to doubt or oppose. Calm, though resonant. Honest and powerful. ¡®She had been considering her choice for a while and confided her thoughts to me. I knew what she would do, and supported her wholeheartedly. I still do. We both saw what you could become.¡¯

    ¡®Ishak¡­¡¯

    ¡®My lady, have you been carrying this burden all these years?¡¯ He stepped closer. ¡®It breaks me to think you harboured such doubt. Know this, my lady. It is not for the old and weary to drag the youth around in their wake. No, I would rather be able to push and spur you on to greatness. This is what I want. This is what Ro?thia wanted.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you, Ishak.¡¯ A tear, black as soot, escaped and streaked down her face as Ishak pulled away. Ad¨¦lia hoped the dark concealed it.

    ¡®Now, good night, lady Ad¨¦lia, my Amarant,¡¯ said Ishak with an earnest smile. He stalked off after the men on duty.

    Ad¨¦lia wiped her cheek and readied herself to join the clean-up operation. She took one more glance around the clearing, past the concerted efforts of devoted men and women under moonlight. The forest creatures had slunk back into their secret homes.

    The following days passed with less sky above the mane. Gohenur¡¯s spiralling paths led through masses of trunk and branch, tunnels of wood, vine, and nettle. Ad¨¦lia was further into Gohenur than she¡¯d ever dreamed of going as an intrepid girl allowed in the forest by her mother, and further than she¡¯d ever had need to as a soldier.

    After a while, they could no longer follow the river, for the Valarion snaked away northward toward its source, whereas their goal lay east near the approaching stony peaks of the Undorn. Due to their distance from the river and its settlements, supply runs became fewer. But fortunately, it was not long before the other divisions joined the march.

    Guldar, assisted by Nelesa, brought along more warriors and supplies collected during their journey in. Ad¨¦lia was glad to see Guldar returned seemingly to full strength, suffering almost no setbacks from his recent injuries. And Nelesa, in her full combat gear, shed the reservations that usually hung around the timid scholar. El¡¯enur had a discernible skip in his step now that she had come alongside them.

    Ad¨¦lia wondered what lay beyond the battle on the horizon, for her and for her friends. She wondered if she would spend time again with the other women of the castle in a rare casual moment, like at the Feast of Starlight. She wondered. Soon, the only future thoughts spared would be where the blade pointed next once its first target was felled.

    A full mane, unseen and unsuspected, scattered and yet whole, now advanced toward the mountains. Their objective was to engage or rescue, as necessary, once the Order¡¯s force was discovered. So they pushed on. Pushed through the unbreathing air as the forest seemed to enclose around them. Hand-in-hand in an unbroken line, they pushed on, over rocky tumbles and slippery streams.

    Ad¨¦lia knew they were drawing close when the forest thinned like the crown of old man Dronam¡¯s head and blue skies spread above again. Further east, mornings clothed the leaves in dew and frost. And one day, a runner had come back, confirming the valley was visible just outside the forest. The order was given to scatter once more and find cover. When the moment came, a signal would be made and the soldiers could spring into action.

    Until then, the waiting. The uncertainty.

    One morning, Ad¨¦lia strolled out to inspect the lay of the land herself. Past the forest¡¯s outskirts, a lake glinted in the sunlight. The Dragon¡¯s Eye. And beside it, nestled in the crook of the Undorn¡¯s ridges like a gem in a rugged crown, the fortress. Bone-coloured and splintery, it seemed less a veritable stronghold and more a repurposed ruin. There was no sign of unnatural movement.

    Still, she had learned long ago no longer to be fooled by appearances, particularly if the Order was involved.

    But not all was desolate. Out here, daylight fell on patches of colour rolled out along the valley. Flowers. It seemed a long time since she had seen anything other than greens and browns, but here and there were violets and oranges, lively in the sun, their hosts thriving despite the grim, overseeing ruins. Birds even flitted about, their songs playfully sent out.

    One would hardly think the threat of violence hung above this valley. But there were teeth of steel bared and hidden in the jaws of the forest and the mountains at whose feet this unsuspecting peace would be shattered.

    There was a commotion ahead. If Darius had arrived, it was time.

    A breeze blew between the trees. A chill wind for chilling work.

    Ad¨¦lia pulled her helmet down. Her breath became close, almost choked. Her vision narrowed to what could be seen between the bars of an iron visor. All other thoughts were set side.

    In this, Ad¨¦lia would not waver. She did not know whether acting here would go some way towards setting her aright. She could not be sure of her destination. But she knew that sitting silent, lost in the forests of her heart, was something she could do no longer. This eagerness, mixed with trepidation, propelled her forward like a loose petal into wind.

    * * *

    Dawn arrived with the sound of splitting wood. Before light itself awoke, work was being undertaken in the village. Here in the mountains, darkness held on a little longer, until the sun crested the peaks and shone into the cradle. So, there was no time to waste, waiting until brightness caught one unprepared. By then, it would already be time for first break.

    Darius heaved, his arms burning with strength and exuding sweat. Though he was not handling a weapon of his choice, he had a target: a collection of truly hapless firewood. And in his efforts, there was the oddly satisfying rigour of monotonous process. Purpose.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    The Amarant¡¯s thoughts tumbled along with each splintered log.

    Thwack.

    Kerena and the Order in league.

    Thwack.

    King Cerus after his head.

    Thwack.

    Valinos under his care.

    A moment¡¯s break to clear the chopping area and gather the fragments.

    Repeat process. Repeat thoughts.

    Loh¡¯aneth, the younger of the chief¡¯s two sons, was also splitting wood nearby. Rual¡¯aneth, the older, was already out with the herds. Darius wondered what thoughts occupied the mind of one whose concerns were confined to a single village. Surely, that would be a blissful load.

    There was peace and simplicity in this village that went beyond the plain thatched roofs, unassuming latticed windows, and the unadorned clothing. He could see it in the way the other dwellers rose and prepared for work. He noted it in their greetings and customs. There was busyness that was not rushed, and relaxation that was not laziness. This was a people open and united, set on doing what is right for the other, not for profit. So it was only appropriate that Darius do what he could as well, now that he had been shown hospitality.

    The sun finally broke free of the mountain¡¯s clutches a watch later. The snow turned golden. Darius kept chopping.

    ¡®You work well, lowlander,¡¯ Loh¡¯aneth said. ¡®We can break now.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you,¡¯ said Darius, setting down his axe. He had made quick work of his fallen tree. ¡®Don¡¯t mistake me for a simple man from the country below. I hail from Kerena.¡¯

    ¡®Brother says you¡¯re an important man of war.¡¯

    ¡®As important as one of such a crude profession can be. What one does for a village, those hard tasks which keep life going, that¡¯s truly valuable.¡¯

    ¡®You know, he will likely ask you for sword-help. He desires to protect.¡¯

    ¡®A noble instinct. I¡¯ll think about it.¡¯

    Loh¡¯aneth led Darius from the hill on the outskirts of the village to a fenced area with a few wooden tables set up. Along the road, Darius noted two statues that had been set up just out of the way, in a shrine-like construction. They were crude representations, but he figured it was Regulus and Carinae being depicted. Not far from the shrine, some women were busy with basins in a nearby stream, washing clothes. They halted their chores as well when the men passed and engaged in conversation with one another.

    Ren¡¯arath, the chief¡¯s daughter, emerged with a tray of baked goods as Darius reached the designated break area. The smell was crisp in the cool, morning air. She was dark-haired, like all the chief¡¯s children, and had the same stone-hard and pale-coloured eyes. Similar to the other women around the village, her clothing was only slightly more ornamented than the men¡¯s, with wavy lines of red stitching spattered over simple colours.

    ¡®Thank you, Ren,¡¯ said chief Hek¡¯aneth, who appeared with a group of older villagers. ¡®Would you take some to your brother in the field, as well?¡¯

    ¡®Yes, father,¡¯ Ren said, as the chief and the other men and women took seats. She bundled a few morsels in a small burlap sack and made off toward the hill.

    ¡®Good morning, Darius,¡¯ Hek¡¯aneth said. ¡®I hope you are well-rested.¡¯

    ¡®I am. Are you sure we cannot also offer you coin for our stay, and for this fine food?¡¯ asked Darius as he picked out a pastry.

    ¡®What good is your payment, Imperial?¡¯ said the chief, not unkindly. ¡®Coin is simple and easy and costs nothing. But the sweat of labour is worthy. You look like us, now. You will continue to help like us. And that is all we require.¡¯

    ¡®And he has already been a great boon, father,¡¯ Loh¡¯aneth interjected.

    Darius took a look at himself. Washed and dressed in the mountainfolk¡¯s own attire, he certainly did not resemble the ragged, war-torn Amarant who had entered the village just the previous night.

    ¡®We will be glad to do so.¡¯

    ¡®Where is your companion?¡¯ the chief asked.

    Darius laughed. ¡®Sleeping, I surmise. I am to blame. I¡¯ve put him through an ordeal these last few days. Him, and my horse.¡¯ Looking around, Darius could see Mas¨¬lminur in the company of other horses under the care of the village¡¯s stable-master. ¡®Thank you for taking care of him.¡¯

    ¡®The boy, or the horse?¡¯ asked the chief slyly. ¡®I imagine you¡¯ll have to make your own amends to both.¡¯

    ¡®That I will do.¡¯ Darius reached for another piece of bread.

    ¡®You did not seem surprised to happen upon us, last night.¡¯

    ¡®I was told beforehand to expect friendly peoples in these parts,¡¯ Darius said, ripping off a chunk of bread and slathering on some cheese. ¡®But truthfully, I have already been acquainted with a few of your folk. So your character came as no surprise.¡¯

    ¡®Is that so?¡¯ the chief asked. The others around the table leaned forward.

    ¡®A man named Guldar is my second-in-command back at Fara¡¯ethar. And one Kelon serves under me also. Good men.¡¯

    The chief¡¯s bushy eyebrows sprang upwards. ¡®Gul¡¯aneth?¡¯

    Darius halted with a half-eaten piece of bread in hand as the others started to chatter. ¡®You know him?¡¯

    ¡®Gul¡¯aneth once called this village home,¡¯ Loh¡¯aneth said. ¡®He married my sister and made off for the lowlands. Guldar would be his name in the common dialect.¡¯

    ¡®My oldest daughter, Inna¡¯arath,¡¯ the chief said, nodding. ¡®That snatcher,¡¯ he added playfully.

    Darius thought of Guldar and his family. Innareth. The children. ¡®I can report she¡¯s doing fine. They both are, in fact. They have a family. A boy and a girl. And there is no more dependable man in Anardes.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s because he¡¯s not from Anardes,¡¯ Hek¡¯aneth said. The others cheered. ¡®But I am glad to hear that.¡¯ The chief¡¯s eyes were welling like dew-smitten leaves.

    ¡®Inna always wished to see other parts of the world,¡¯ Loh¡¯aneth said. ¡®And Gul¡¯aneth was set on taking the mantle. It seemed a good fit.¡¯

    Others must have overheard the mention of Innareth and Guldar, for more villagers approached with questions and excited comments. Darius fielded the inquiries and filled in as best as he could.

    ¡®You know,¡¯ he said once the attention was overwhelming, ¡®perhaps when this is all over, a trip is in order, and you can see Guldar and Lady Innareth for yourselves.¡¯ There were more cheers.

    ¡®Return, now,¡¯ the chief said with a hearty laugh, and the congregation scattered. Loh¡¯aneth rose and left, intending to catch up with Ren and Rual and relay these tidings. Hek¡¯aneth turned to Darius, eyes suddenly keen and sharp. ¡®Now, what do you mean to do here? One does not simply come to these parts for a holiday. What is to be ¡®over¡¯ that carries such urgency and finality?¡¯

    Before he answered, Darius was offered a drink. He declined, but the aroma told him it was coffee. Guldar¡¯s favourite, and perhaps the very blend he enjoyed. He faced the chief. ¡®Our business is dire. We intend to pass on to the Dragon¡¯s Eye.¡¯

    Silence fell over the table. Gestures flashed, to ward off perceived misfortune, perhaps. The coffee-server nearly spilled the proffered tray.

    ¡®What do you intend to find in such a dark place?¡¯

    ¡®I cannot say, honestly. Answers. There is great doom poised over our world which has only recently reared its head. Though I may not know in entirety, I want to strike while I can.¡¯

    ¡®The man who sets off with kindled torch in hand to find answers without a goal does not know what he shall find until it is too late.¡¯

    ¡®Better that. If I sit idle, I shall never know at all.¡¯

    ¡®We do not stay here in ignorance, master Darius. The tale of the Worldender and the folly of the Dragonking are known to us. All trouble, it seems, can be traced to that terrible act, much like all currents sweep out to the same sea. But we also know that we have no power in the face of such forces, so we protect our own.¡¯

    ¡®I meant no offence,¡¯ Darius said with a deferential nod.

    ¡®The Eye is a foul place, and no good comes from it. We are fortunate to have escaped the detection of those who go about there. But I fear the day will come when we will be called to do more than protect. Your arrival is an ill omen.¡¯

    ¡®I understand. This task is our own. We appreciate the kindness you have shown but will not impose on you further. But if you are willing, we will call on you at a later time, should the need arise. I hold on to hope, chief. Together, we may yet turn back the dark. Join that hope with us.¡¯

    ¡®You speak of the Elders¡¯ song?¡¯ Hek¡¯aneth rose. ¡®I will think on this, Darius. For now, enjoy our village. And your continued help is appreciated.¡¯ The chief turned and left, joined by the others at the table. Their robes and coats, flecked by fresh snow, fluttered until they were out of sight.

    Perturbed, Darius finished his piece of bread and prepared to return to work. He reflected how strange it was for himself, a Kerenani, to be on the other side of the world, asking help of these mountainfolk. But, he supposed, the time would come when origin and affiliation would not matter. Darkness had no boundaries, and neither would the answering light, if it were to rise against.

    It was nearly lunchtime when Valinos crawled out of hibernation. Over a spare black doublet, he had tossed one of the mountainfolk¡¯s snug, white-fur coats. His mismatched look was completed by a smattering of dishevelled hair. He had trudged through fresh snowfall, looking confused, and found Darius on the edge of the village.

    ¡®Finally awake?¡¯ Darius called out. ¡®Even the cattle are up before you.¡¯ He had returned to wood-splitting, a large pile of logs testament to his tireless effort since the morning¡¯s break. He leaned on his axe now, huffing.

    Valinos rubbed at his eyes and winced. ¡®Feels like the cattle have been let loose upon my back.¡¯

    ¡®And that is why I thought it best not to wake you, boy.¡¯

    ¡®What are you building here?¡¯ Valinos said, stepping closer.

    ¡®A coffin for a wintry prince, perhaps?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m tired. Not dead.¡¯

    ¡®Fair enough,¡¯ Darius said, chuckling. ¡®Well, I am earning my keep, for the both of us it seems.¡¯

    ¡®Villagers wouldn¡¯t take our coin?¡¯

    ¡®No. It appears we¡¯ll have to really labour for it.¡¯ Darius brought down the axe, splitting the final log. ¡®This task is done, but I know you are no stranger to work. If you head back to the lodge and find the chief, I¡¯m sure there will be work for you.¡¯

    Valinos took a look back at the village. Every building, every man and woman and child, seemed untouched by conflict and strife. ¡®How long will we stay here?¡¯

    ¡®Not very long. A day or two, perhaps. Until the cattle are off your back.¡¯

    Valinos chuckled, giving the Amarant an unpleasant look, and then spun, heading back toward the village. Darius followed him briefly, finding a wheelbarrow which he intended to fill up with the felled wood. Unsurprisingly, its owner lent it with a smile.

    The rest of the day was spent moving from task to task about the town. Domestic chores in exchange for bath, meals, and lodgings was a pleasant enough system. Darius turned the wood in, and the collector was satisfied with the haul. Next, he was asked to fix a rickety fence which had failed to keep out the animals savaging a woman¡¯s garden. The Amarant did so, and hunted a few of the critters down for pleasure. His reward was a steaming meal of rice and mushroom.

    Across the road, a man needed help tarring his roof, so Darius offered his assistance. The man repaid him practically, with a new belted leather pouch for tools. Or weapons. But perhaps the most unexpected use of the Amarant¡¯s talents came when a young couple requested a childminder so they could prepare for the evening¡¯s activities. While it had been an age since the Amarant had devoted any effort or imagination to children, stories of his travels and hunts came in handy, holding back on some of the more unsavoury details, of course.

    Throughout the day, Darius had brief run-ins with Valinos, who seemed occupied assisting the village smith. Valinos laughed at the Amarant¡¯s lot with the children. ¡®Too bad Asphales isn¡¯t here to give you some pointers,¡¯ he joked.

    So far from the castle, in a setting so utterly unlike his regular occupation but so reminiscent of home, it did not take much effort for Darius to think of himself differently. The reminder was there. He would no longer be Amarant. And yet, he hoped that he would not simply revert to the man he had been in Kerena, but had learned something. Had become something. Something better.

    When the sun had run its course and evening arrived, Darius and Valinos were invited to the village fair which had been set up through the day. There was music, meals, and dancing, a great quantity of drink, and very much laughter. For all their hard work, the villagers proved they could merry-make just as vigorously. Hek¡¯aneth toasted the visitors and the festivities began with an explosion of cheers.

    The fires were alive under starlight. Men and women stamped along to musicians¡¯ tunes while children ran about, playing with toys and stealing morsels from unsupervised tables. The dances engulfed the majority of the open space devoted to the feast. The living wave swung in and out, pulling in more people with each tide-step. Darius was alone and out of reach, perched on a bench like a rock secure against the surf. He could see Ren¡¯arath and her two brothers direct the dance, and even the old chief was clapping along from the sidelines.

    ¡®Still not your kind of thing?¡¯ A voice from behind. Valinos.

    ¡®I could lay the same accusation toward you.¡¯

    Valinos took a seat beside the Amarant. Neither spoke for a while. Just below them, the sweeping movement of people was spellbinding. The music of flutes and lyre fought the evening chill. Valinos pulled his cloak tighter.

    ¡®You know,¡¯ Valinos said, ¡®I didn¡¯t have time to fully process this in the bustle of the previous days, but I don¡¯t think I appreciate a second attempt on my life in the span of a moonturn. I wish more folk were like these good people.¡¯

    ¡®You get used to it.¡¯

    Valinos groaned. ¡®I know you probably don¡¯t want to speak. You¡¯ve got your face of broody reflection on. But, well¡­ I¡¯m reminded that we don¡¯t have long left in this pleasant place, and we don¡¯t know what¡¯s ahead.¡¯

    It was true. It was easy to forget the gruelling task looming ahead. And the Dragon¡¯s Eye would be more than a simple assignment. For Darius, the chance for lifelong ashes and kindling to finally be settled. And then¡­ what?

    ¡®Have you given thought to what you¡¯ll do after all this?¡¯

    ¡®After? What¡¯s the point of thinking about what may never come?¡¯

    ¡®Damn your secrecy, Darius,¡¯ Valinos blurted out. ¡®We¡¯re miles from home and there¡¯s no one else around to be embarrassed about. And besides, you owe me, after the discomfort you put me through. I just¡­ I just want to know; what do you think you¡¯ll do? I know you don¡¯t speak of your past, so I won¡¯t dredge that up. But surely you have a mind about your own future.¡¯

    The boy¡¯s earnestness surprised him. Darius sighed. ¡®After my Amarantship¡­ honestly, if I end up as a quartermaster or trainer, that would be a kind fate.¡¯

    ¡®Would you ever settle down, in a place like this, perhaps?¡¯

    Darius shot the young man a look. He was certainly testy with his questions tonight.

    ¡®What would there be for me in such a place?¡¯

    Valinos shrugged. ¡®Ren is pretty nice,¡¯ he offered after a moment of silence.

    Darius chuckled. ¡®I see. No, I don¡¯t think so.¡¯ The chief¡¯s daughter was still dancing below, life and joy in her eyes and movements, spilling out and enriching those around her.

    He had sworn off that sort of commitment years ago. Scarred within and without, undeserving all the way through. His hands were not meant to hold anything living and his heart was not meant for that kind of flame.

    ¡®What about you, boy?¡¯

    Valinos sprang to his feet. ¡®It¡¯s my turn to be mysterious.¡¯ He wandered off, disappearing into the mass of merry people. Golden snowflakes fell in the blinding lights.

    The next day, Darius awoke with nimble limbs and a clear heard, which is more than what could be said for those who had danced a little too long or drank a little too much. At first light, he sought out Rual¡¯aneth. The young man was helping some others pack away the previous night¡¯s fixtures. The Amarant took him aside and spent some time on bladework, giving him pointers on handling a weapon. This would be a gift of his own to the community which had so readily welcomed two strangers.

    Rual proved an eager student and a quick learner, his natural strength showing the beginnings of refinement after a couple of hours¡¯ training. Darius¡¯ tempered his workout with words, lessons learned far too late in life for him. He hoped that Rual would be as receptive in the matter of wisdom, even if the Amarant would not be around to see it confirmed.

    When breaktime came around, he shared a drink with Rual at the same table from the previous day. Their weapons from the morning¡¯s session, two simple blades borrowed from the smithy, lay next to them. This time, Valinos was out of bed at a reasonable time and present for the first break as well.

    ¡®How did I do?¡¯ Rual asked, before sipping an aromatic brew. His long hair, rich as his father¡¯s but with more colour in it, sheened with sweat.

    ¡®I would have you in my mane, if it were up to me,¡¯ Darius said.

    Rual¡¯aneth beamed at the compliment, then cocked his head. ¡®But it is not up to you?¡¯

    ¡®Not since he was dismissed from the job,¡¯ Valinos cut in.

    Rual¡¯s mouth dropped.

    ¡®Ignore my companion,¡¯ said Darius. ¡®He¡¯s fuming I did not extend him the same invitation.¡¯

    Rual laughed. ¡®Lowlanders are strange. You attack each other with words, even when there is no battle.¡¯

    ¡®There¡¯s a warning in there for you, young man,¡¯ said the Amarant. ¡®Fight well. But beware of what this strength may do to you.¡¯

    The chief¡¯s son nodded and took another sip of his drink.

    ¡®Now, we had best be leaving,¡¯ Darius said.

    Valinos scrambled, as if he would be whisked off this very moment and he would lose access to the village and his drink. He gave the Amarant a dejected look.

    ¡®Everyone will wish to see you off,¡¯ Rual¡¯aneth said. ¡®Must you be in a hurry?¡¯

    ¡®Must you indeed?¡¯ a voice boomed. For the second time, Hek¡¯aneth appeared unannounced.

    Darius rose. He looked around at the chief, his son, and the other villagers who had gathered. ¡®We are thankful for everything you have done for us. But we need to keep moving. Our business is urgent and there are many who rely on us. Valinos, go get your belongings.¡¯

    Valinos stood up reluctantly and headed in the direction of the main lodge he had been admitted to on the first night.

    ¡®Darius,¡¯ the chief began, ¡®may starlight shine upon your road. We cannot be involved at this time. But if the hope you have found holds true, the Mu¡¯adur will lend you aid. Call on us later, and we will give what we can spare. If nothing else, at least we shall offer you a place of refuge. And it needs not be said, but we cannot send you off empty-handed.¡¯ There was true joy sculpted in his sunken features.

    The chief signalled to a villager, who approached the Amarant with a sack. Hek¡¯aneth¡¯s steely eyes fought off any opposition Darius may have voiced, so he accepted it and nodded in gratitude. A second man emerged from the stables with Mas¨¬lminur. He handed the reins to the Amarant, looking to be relieved of the somewhat unruly creature. Darius noted that Mas¨¬lminur¡¯s packs were looking fuller than they had on their arrival.

    When Valinos returned, Darius collected his gear, prepared beforehand. Blackfrost¡¯s familiar weight settled on his back and reminded him of the burden he carried. More goodbyes were said as Amarant and apprentice headed back up the sloped path towards the mountain ridges. Looking back, they saw Ren¡¯arath and Loh¡¯aneth had joined the throng and were waving. Then, in unison, the villagers put up their fists to their forehead, holding the gesture until they were out of sight. And so, with generous helpings of food in hand, plentiful supplies in their pack, and the villager¡¯s dances and cheers still echoing in mind, they departed. With heavy heart and step departed from warmth and welcome into sure but unknown hostilities.

    Outside the hamlet, even the weather was less friendly. They travelled for a few more days of biting headwind and snowy haze, following the rocky spine of the mountains. Conversation was sparse, it being difficult enough to merely keep their eyes shielded from the wind and focused on the road. With no outlet for this thoughts, the chief¡¯s words about a man¡¯s worth remained lodged in Darius¡¯ head. With each step, he wondered if what would happen at the Eye would sully or secure the person he was.

    The fire burns. Will it sear you also?

    Nights were simply a darker shade of haze. They took shelter where they could and enjoyed what mealtimes were afforded by breaks in the journey. The valley and its villagers were still with them in the ingredients¡¯ smells. It already seemed too long ago that Darius felt he did not need to move, to push, to strive. Too long ago, too far away, lost somewhere out there in the hurricane.

    ¡®How much longer, do you think?¡¯ Valinos asked during a moment¡¯s pause around a fire in a cave.

    ¡®Tomorrow, we should reach the other side of these peaks. There our goal lies.¡¯

    Valinos stared into the flames, his meal forgotten for the moment.

    ¡®If we both want to get out of this alive,¡¯ Darius said, ¡®you do exactly as I tell you, when we¡¯re there.¡¯

    ¡®Does this mean I have to wear the hood again?¡¯

    ¡®Yes. And once we¡¯re in their sights¡­ we will need to show restraint.¡¯

    Valinos gave him a look.

    The Amarant shifted. ¡®Not one of my strengths, admittedly.¡¯

    ¡®I can do that.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯ve already demonstrated it.¡¯

    ¡®Oh?¡¯

    ¡®Back in the village. I could have forced you into a dance. But I thought better of it.¡¯

    ¡®If you had, the next day you would not have had a head left to think with.¡¯

    Valinos snorted. ¡®Then how would you have presented me to the Order?¡¯

    ¡®The same way I presented their last member.¡¯

    Valinos froze. ¡®Point taken,¡¯ he said, and finished off his meal before turning over for rest.

    Darius put out the fire and settled into his own blankets. In the dark and quiet, his thoughts turned to Valinos. What awaited this youth in battle and blood? Eventually, the Amarant fell into uneasy sleep. He dreamt Blackfrost was hacking away at some target, only to find the blade had been chipping at his own flesh. And when he looked, it was Valinos holding the weapon, wrathful and terrible as a mountain with only ruin at his feet.

    Sure enough, tomorrow came with new sights to behold. After a few hours¡¯ hike, the worst of the grey mountain scenery appeared to have been behind them. Darius led the party towards a green valley, painted as it were in living hues. They began a descent, traversing scree with care. The kinder weather made navigating the precipitous paths simpler, but no less precarious. They skirted around ravines which fell away into mist, and came out to flatter stretches of land. In the distance, Gohenur¡¯s extremities were visible. The outermost expanse of trees hugged a glistening lake, far too serene for its sinister name. The Dragon¡¯s Eye.

    And there was the Order¡¯s fortress, its brough nestled in the mountain¡¯s bones. Its light-coloured, limestone walls were yellowed by age and decay and claimed by vines and briars at their base. Towers like broken teeth were set around the structure, dotted with narrow windows and topped with crenelations.

    A mile out from the valley, Darius figured any sentries could spot his approach, so he reverted to having Valinos tied and hooded. With a last look at the sun and a last piece of instruction, he slung the poor boy over Mas¨¬lminur¡¯s flank.

    Darius began the slow march toward the fortress. As he approached, he looked for indication of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s presence. He supposed it was a good sign that he could not easily see any. A distant bird overhead circling the gentle slopes might have been a messenger eagle. He hoped their timing would be fortuitous.

    It was too peaceful. Too quiet.

    Then an arrow landed, not five feet away from him. Darius halted his horse, and hopped off. He bent down. The arrowhead was embedded in the soil, but a note was tied along the shaft. He unrolled it and read.

    Welcome, worthy Darius.

    R.

    Darius looked up, squinting against the sun. There was no sign of the archer. A weak breeze tugged at the trees. He steeled himself and went on. Each footfall pounded like a drum, and his heart seemed intent on picking up the pace. He shot a glance toward the forest, hoping, for once, that he was watched.

    The fortress came into view properly, standing tall behind the trees. A visible road was there now, of old brick mingled in the grass. Darius took it, headed square for the structure¡¯s entrance.

    He passed patches of flowers, less than a hundred yards from the entrance, and still no sign of anyone. His heart threatened to speed up. Every buzzing bee, every warbling bird, seemed noisome and loud. Mas¨¬lminur¡¯s reins were heavy.

    The road widened and became a smooth cobblestone courtyard, splayed out before a barred wooden gate. The arches were of the same aged limestone as the walls, and nearly succumbed to the advance of vine and moss. Scattered around the courtyard were statues, bronze and no less dilapidated than the walls. There were no banners, nothing to show the fortress was anything other than a neglected ruin.

    ¡®Stop right there,¡¯ a voice said from somewhere.

    Darius stopped. He was standing in the centre of the courtyard. He flicked his eyes from statue to statue. Their dead eyes seemed focused on him, their weapons poised to strike.

    ¡®I¡¯m sure you know why I¡¯m here,¡¯ Darius called out. ¡®Show yourself!¡¯

    ¡®The dragon does not take commands from the wolf.¡¯ Raspy. Eery. Too familiar. It seemed like the statues were speaking.

    ¡®Without this wolf, the dragon shall never wake. I say again, show yourself!¡¯

    With a loud clang, the gate began to swing open. Birds flitted away. Mas¨¬lminur did not shrink back. Darius¡¯ gaze lowered from the towers¡¯ heights to the entrance. From behind the door, six figures stepped forth. They walked out and formed a crescent formation in front of Darius. Three men. Three women.

    ¡®Hello, Darius,¡¯ one of them said.

    The Order of Seven, shorn of a member. Two he knew well. The other four were mere rumours and ghosts, now made flesh before his eyes. Rarely did one catch sight of a single member. Rarer still to see them all together. How fortunate.

    The first was the one who had spoken. Remeriel he was called. He stood now in the middle of the group, enveloped in a blue cape and dark, leathery attire. His eyes, red as blood, fixed Darius with a deathly stare. For the first time in a long, long while, Darius felt a stab of true fear. Remeriel wore his half-mask and his hands were gloved. His dreadful scythe, engraved with some outlandish markings, was held at the ready.

    The second, to Remeriel¡¯s left, was a man Darius wished he would never again see. Shurun¡¯el, now grown in stature and surely in pride, stood casual and imperious. He peered at Darius with one eye. The right side of his face was curiously scarred and hidden behind curls of chestnut hair. Ledner¡¯s handiwork, Darius realised. This disfigurement did not seem to mar the man¡¯s arrogant appearance, and he lay one confident hand on the edge of a scabbard. It carried a curved, single-edged cutlass. Fitting one who thought highly of himself, Shurun¡¯el¡¯s weapon and his cloak were golden.

    The third man was unknown to Darius, and even as he stood among them, he felt apart from the rest. Clean-shaven and neat-faced, yet with unkempt dark hair, he looked on disinterestedly with nearly colourless eyes. His cloak, his trousers, his vest; all black. As if he were a fragment of night even when all else was day. Among his dark livery, Darius picked out two dagger-sized sheaths along his belt. Subtle weapons for one who, it was clear, wished to stay hidden.

    The fourth was the youngest of them all, by appearances. It surprised and dismayed Darius to see her, seeming a mere child, stand among killers. She was swathed in a crimson cape, almost engulfing her slender frame. Her face was youthful and smooth, but bore signs of sadness. Her wood-brown eyes took in Darius as if he were no more than an object. Waves of sanguine-coloured hair fell beneath her cowl. In her hands was a curious blade, bearing a snaking, silver handle and notches along its length.

    The fifth had already judged him with hungry, sapphire eyes by the time Darius noticed her. She was tall, and the only one among them not sporting a cloak of some kind. She seemed to prefer mobility, wearing boots, breeches, and a shirt with no trailing parts. For all this practicality, her jet-black hair appeared styled, showing its richness in the breeze. Unlike the shadowy man, it was obvious this woman wished to be noticed, and she wore her ornate rapier openly and proudly.

    The sixth, a woman with her sword and shield already primed, was staring at Darius with burning intensity. She was trembling, not out fear, no. Her sunstone eyes looked at Darius as though recognising him, or at least something he had done. Darius¡¯ gaze wandered over to Shurun¡¯el, and then back to this woman. Yes, siblings. And perhaps connected in some way to¡­

    The seventh. Well, the seventh was no longer here.

    Darius looked at them all, and when none offered to speak further, he walked over behind Mas¨¬lminur. He lay his hand on Valinos¡¯ hood and pulled it off roughly. On cue, the gagged Valinos looked around in terror and mumbled, struggling against his restraints. Darius turned to the Order. His eyes were fiery, daring.

    ¡®You are truly wild, Darius,¡¯ said Remeriel, taking a step forward. ¡®You murder a political prisoner and then run back to the Order which nursed you. With such a delectable prize, no less. What brings you back?¡¯

    Back? No, I would never turn back to you.

    ¡®The other side is not all it seemed to be. And I could tell when my abilities were not appreciated and my talents wasted.¡¯

    Shurun¡¯el sniffed. ¡®And what about that old fool and his plans?¡¯

    The fire flared. It wished to consume. Amaleron¡¯s hope will burn bright and bring you down in your ignorance.

    ¡®Hopeless. He wastes away in idleness. I wish to step out and act. I offer you this, a treasure you have thus far failed to acquire.¡¯

    Shurun¡¯el scowled, but Darius could tell from the look on the others¡¯ faces that Valinos was desirable to them, indeed. For what dark purpose, he could only guess.

    ¡®It¡¯s been a long time, brothers and sisters,¡¯ Remeriel said, speaking up, ¡®since we have all been together. For this man to bring us together like this, I think that is a worthy credential.¡¯

    The woman on the end drew her sword and rushed forward, raising it towards Darius.

    ¡®Sanah¡¯?l! Enough.¡¯

    The woman halted. Darius¡¯ hand was already on Blackfrost¡¯s hilt.

    ¡®You do not speak for the Seven,¡¯ she hissed towards Remeriel.

    ¡®Six, may I remind you. We need this man.¡¯

    It was apparent she bristled at this instruction and complied reluctantly. She lowered her weapon and stepped back, her movements taut with rage, like a scorpion asked to put away its stinger.

    ¡®Darius, you come to us as a penitent warrior of adamantine tenacity. Your offering is acceptable. We could use you. Will you kneel?¡¯

    One day I shall kneel on your broken corpse.

    Darius knelt.

    The Order¡¯s members huddled closer.

    ¡®You are Dariel.¡¯

    That is a stupid name.

    ¡®Speak your oath, Dariel.¡¯

    I vow to bring you down with fire and ash.

    ¡®I vow to serve the Order and its purposes.¡¯

    ¡®Rise, Dariel.¡¯

    Amarant Darius rose, feeling sickened. And something was not right. The others looked on now as if Darius were a fool or court jester at the end of a performance.

    Remeriel laughed suddenly. ¡®Now, what are we to do about the army at your back?¡¯

 Chapter Twenty-seven - Fire Unyielding

    It was a day for battle.

    The first thing Asphales saw when he looked out from Gohenur¡¯s cover was Amarant Darius, charging with urgency toward them. The unlucky lump at the horse¡¯s rear was Valinos, looking like little more than luggage. But if Darius was running away from the Order¡¯s fortress, something must have gone sour.

    The second thing was more worrying. Behind the approaching Amarant, the stronghold now teemed with activity, whereas before it had been a dead and empty place. Scores of soldiers came forth, pouring out of the fortress and the nearby hills and settling into formation like molten metal in a cast. The voice of a thousand clattering weapons rang in the distance.

    Ishak rushed to Asphales¡¯ side, his eyes on the horizon. ¡®Merciful Regulus,¡¯ he breathed. A moment later, Ad¨¦lia appeared as well. She gave Asphales a horrified look and then fixed her eyes on Darius, now a mere hundred yards away. Like a building stormcloud, the space beyond the galloping Amarant was filling in with black.

    Mas¨¬lminur screeched to a halt before them, and the Amarant promptly hopped off. It was hard to know what to focus on first.

    ¡®Good man, you¡¯re bleeding,¡¯ Ishak said as Darius stepped forward.

    ¡®Never mind that, right now. Lady Catena, we are compromised. Our ruse was discovered. We need to engage.¡¯ Darius¡¯ pelt coat was lopsided, and his tunic was tattered or cut in places. His weapon hung loosely.

    ¡®How can this be?¡¯ she asked.

    ¡®I don¡¯t know!¡¯ Darius growled. ¡®I don¡¯t know. But the Order is there. They entertained our little game for a while, and they¡¯re certainly interested in Valinos. But it seems they were expecting us. They knew exactly what we were trying to do.¡¯

    At the mention of his friend, Asphales realised where he was and rushed to the horse. He unfastened the restraints, threw off the cloth serving as a hood, and helped Valinos off the steed. Valinos took a moment to catch his breath, then he raised himself up.

    It was good to see him. His topaz eyes were tired, but tinted with new experiences Asphales would have liked to hear about. Before he could help himself, Asphales ran in and embraced him. Valinos, somewhat stunned, accepted it nonetheless.

    ¡®Asphales,¡¯ he said, still panting. Then he pushed off, gave his friend a curt nod, and walked over to Darius. ¡®Why didn¡¯t that work?¡¯ he demanded.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry, Valinos. I don¡¯t know. The plan was always a desperate one, but I did not think they would read every move.¡¯

    ¡®Damn it,¡¯ Valinos said, more to himself.

    ¡®How many are here?¡¯ Darius asked of Ad¨¦lia.

    ¡®A full mane. We are all ready.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s something at least.¡¯

    ¡®Ishak, please send word throughout the camps. Have every division come out here.¡¯

    The sub-commander bowed and made off for the trees.

    ¡®And Darius,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia added, ¡®you may call me by my true name.¡¯ There was a smile on her face, fresh and confident like a tree in bloom.

    Darius looked to her, then to Asphales. Asphales was not sure how to react to the Amarant¡¯s intense but friendly gaze. He hoped there was gratitude in it, rather than blame. Darius then turned his eyes away and returned to tactical conversation. ¡®How is our cavalry situation, lady Ad¨¦lia?¡¯ he asked.

    ¡®Bare. We got a mere dozen horses through Gohenur. Guldar and Nelesa are among the squad.¡¯

    ¡®Better than nought. I will meet up with them now.¡¯ With that, Darius remounted his steed and trotted into the forest. Valinos watched him go.

    Before long, other soldiers gathered on the outskirts of the hill, perhaps to confirm the sight of the enemy drawing up lines for themselves. El¡¯enur was among them. The archer spotted the opposing force and gave an appreciative whistle, but his attention soon fell onto Valinos.

    ¡®You¡¯ve made it back. See, Asphales, I told you he would return in one piece.¡¯

    Asphales smiled, recalling distinctly that it was El¡¯enur who had expressed doubt at that very outcome.

    ¡®You look like you¡¯ve seen a few things worthy of stories,¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®Like you wouldn¡¯t believe,¡¯ Valinos teased.

    ¡®Now, lads,¡¯ El¡¯enur said in what seemed a rare moment of seriousness, ¡®I don¡¯t need to remind you this isn¡¯t the time for reminiscence. There¡¯s an army on the horizon. Valinos, let¡¯s get you geared up. Asphales, how are you feeling?¡¯

    Asphales did his best not to make his shaking knees obvious. He was clad in armour, heavy cuirass, pauldron, and greaves fitted over his black shirt and crimson mantle. A plumed helmet was now in his hands, and Nador¨¬l hung sheathed at his side. He looked like a soldier but felt he had all the strength of a windblown reed. An all-too-cursory perusal of Military Tactics and a few short weeks of training had been his preparation. Father, guide me and give me strength.

    ¡®I¡¯ll¡­ do my best,¡¯ he answered weakly.

    El¡¯enur nodded and then signalled for Valinos to follow him. The two disappeared behind the cover of trees.

    Asphales looked out at the force facing them across the field. It was a beautiful day, but he knew blood would soon follow. He put on his helmet, feeling his breath close in. Ad¨¦lia stepped up beside him, nearly startling him. He tried to look at her, but between the constricting nature of his helm and the fact of his reduced vision, the sight did not bring him much comfort. Ad¨¦lia herself was veiled in steel, looking much as she had on that fateful day of rescue. He breathed. Would his brief training keep him, and others, safe? Would his barely budding starlight pull him through?

    ¡®Asphales,¡¯ she said. ¡®We do this together. In light and life. In darkness and death. Through honour and blood.¡¯ She readied her spear and fixed her eyes forward. Asphales drew his sword.

    Minutes later, Asphales heard the rush of armoured men gather around him. They pressed in at the edge of the hill overlooking the valley and the fortress, shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm. The occasional banner in black and gold divided the constant, all-encompassing silver masses. Somewhere in there was Valinos, his closest friend. Somewhere in there were those whom Asphales had known only a little while, but already grown fond of: El¡¯enur. Darius. Ishak. Guldar. Nelesa. And all around him there were the brave men and women given to the cause of starlight, those who would stand even before monsters lest the world should fall. It was a day for courage. He tried not to think about the fact this could be the last time he would see some, perhaps many, of the comrades around him.

    Starlight guide us.

    A bugle sounded. The soldiers shifted, stiffened. They had prepared for this eventuality, and yet it still dawned on them with heavy purpose. How swiftly this moment had come.

    Ahead of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s army, there was movement among the Order¡¯s numbers. The first lines of infantry broke out and into a run. It would be mere minutes before they clashed.

    Darius emerged. Astride his black horse, clad now in iron and with Blackfrost upheld, the Amarant was fury itself.  He cantered along the Empire¡¯s battleline and stopped at their head. Asphales expected a general¡¯s speech, some rousing words to boost morale.

    Instead, the Amarant began a song. His voice had a guarded timbre, but soon it gathered like an avalanche, joined by the choruses of a thousand soldiers.

    It was not glory, honour, praise

    That drew you forth to bitter fight

    It was not splendour, hope of knights

    That led to dream of better days

    You¡¯ve left behind your lover¡¯s touch

    The warmth and smile of children¡¯s play

    Instead of home and place to stay

    The cold and dread of iron clutch

    But why then come to slaughter bold

    In combat thus your life to give?

    For those, the trodden weak, we live

    And die, their hearts with us to hold

    So brace for peal of sharpened brawl

    The clash of blade and hardened shield

    Their bodies lie strewn on this field

    When rage and wrath upon them fall

    For here the river¡¯s running red

    And black the hearts of men do sting

    All for this day you¡¯ve strained to sing

    All for this day you¡¯ve trained and bled

    By its final stanza, the war hymn was more shout than song. Asphales was lost in the outcry. And with a final howl, Darius led the Empire¡¯s own charge. Men split off from the formation and rushed downhill. The deafening lightning-flash of a thousand weapons drawn gave way to the thundering rumble of myriad running bootsteps.

    The storm overtook the tranquil valley. Men trampled the grass on their way to trample one another and take life. The cavalry squad overtook the running men and galloped ahead. Asphales could see Nelesa, mace in hand, and Guldar with his warhammer.

    Already during the assault, Asphales became disheartened at what he would do, and what would be done around him. This was not going to be some storybook conflict, he knew that.

    Moments before crash, the enemy ahead was very visible. Up close, their shapes were not monstrous, nor their eyes evil. They seemed just as frightened, just as determined, as those running from the other way.

    Then it happened. Like the coming together of waves out a gleaming, silver sea. Like the raw, unchoreographed smashing of pottery. Men collided in a visceral mingle of steel and flesh. Shouts and screams went up almost immediately. Ahead of Asphales, there was a mess of lance and limb. Yet he could not close his eyes. That would certainly bring a speedy end.

    Too quickly, there was a soldier directly before Asphales. The man came at him with a two-handed sword. Without losing momentum, without pausing for thought, Asphales had to respond.

    Avoid unnecessary engagements, Amaleron had told him. Don¡¯t be rash, the steward had said, sounding much like a worried parent.

    It was difficult to hold that advice in mind in the rush of battle. Asphales placed his blade to meet the oncoming assault. He was ready.

    The blow hit him with such force that he was swept off his feet. With his inertia carrying him forward, Asphales twisted awkwardly and tumbled to the ground. Though he had blocked the strike, the landing was painful. With a start, Asphales rolled away from where he was sure the follow-up attack would come.

    Sure enough, the assailant¡¯s claymore crashed down into the dirt. There was no play in the enemy¡¯s strike. Asphales quickly got up. His vision was askew. He rushed to adjust his helmet, just in time to see another incoming attack. With a feel for the impact this time, Asphales brought Nador¨¬l up and redirected the opponent¡¯s motion. Steel scraped steel with a sound that pierced Asphales¡¯ ears.

    It was time. Asphales spun. Astera balleis, he intoned mentally.

    Nador¨¬l shone.

    Asphales¡¯ blade met the claymore. There was a snap. Splinters of steel were flung in the air. Asphales¡¯ opponent, with shock on his face, looked at his weapon. It was cloven in two.

    There was no time to hesitate. Asphales turned into another strike and aimed at the man¡¯s exposed side. Striking with the flat of his sword, he sent the man to the ground.

    Asphales did not know what good this mercy would do, or how much longer he could avoid the inevitable. But he determined not to take life needlessly. Darius had mentioned finding another way. Perhaps this would be his. He hoped against hope that the man would remain down, remain out of sight of prying blades.

    He took his bearings. Dust had been kicked up from the conflict raging around him. Other soldiers were now grey forms flittering about. Already, it was hard to tell friend from foe.

    A familiar shape rushed nearby. Darius, on horseback, flew past and towards one of the Order¡¯s horsemen. Asphales watched the Amarant charge and cleave through horse and rider. He had to turn his eyes away from the butchery.

    He looked ahead, toward the fortress. Many bodies had already fallen, but there was plenty of fodder left in the trough. There was a shout. From behind Asphales, a volley of arrows whistled past. It came down like metal rain. More men fell.

    He felt sick. All around him in the dusty haze, there was the dance of blades, the ballad of blood, the music of death. And he knew the unmoving, twisted shadows were all the slain.

    Asphales tried to drown it all out as another enemy rushed at him, yelling.

    Astera pleie. The words in his mind were louder than the kiss of steel all around him.

    Nador¨¬l glinted. The man charging at Asphales looked taken aback for a moment. In that pause, Asphales realised that not all the men before him were trained veterans. He saw his youth, written all over his untested eyes and scruffy hair, his trembling hands. Clearly, there were some on the other side just as scared and inexperienced as he was. But still, his opponent continued in his mad venture.

    Astera balleis.

    Nador¨¬l crashed into its opponent, breaking weapon, armour, and bone. The man fell. Asphales¡¯ arms shuddered, pain shooting through.

    He stumbled a few steps farther, and fell to his knees. He had lost sight of Ad¨¦lia. Lost sight of anything familiar. He had to get up. Father, what did you feel as you mowed down enemy ranks?

    Something touched him and he screamed.

    ¡®Asphales! It¡¯s me. It¡¯s me.¡¯

    He looked up. Guldar¡¯s face was looking at him. His strong features were laced with concern. The sub-commanded seized him by the underarms and hauled him up.

    ¡®Come on, lad,¡¯ he said. ¡®Keep going.¡¯ After a moment, Asphales registered that the brawny warrior was no longer on his horse.

    ¡®What for?¡¯ Asphales found himself saying.

    ¡®You¡¯re valuable, boy. And if you fight, you keep us alive too. Come on. There¡¯s a sally by the east wall of the fortress. We need you there. I¡¯ve brought a company along. Come, we¡¯ll get there together.¡¯

    Asphales looked around and saw other soldiers in Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s livery form a circle around Guldar and himself. They fended off a few who tried to approach.

    ¡®What is even happening?¡¯

    ¡®Our objective is to capture or eliminate members of the Order. Darius wants us to take the east and west perimeters. Lady Ad¨¦lia has already gone over to the west. And Darius is holding the front while entrusting us to do our part.¡¯

    Asphales nodded blankly. He followed Guldar, weaving through struggles and clashes. One man broke through the ranks and ran at the sub-commander. With no time to heave his warhammer, Guldar stopped the man in his tracks with his bare hands and slammed him to the ground. Asphales tried not to look. Another man dashed in. With Guldar preoccupied, Asphales imbued his blade with starlight and deflected the enemy¡¯s attempt. The Order¡¯s soldier was thrown off-balance, and two members of the company took the opportunity to run him through with their lances.

    Guldar lifted himself off the ground then and resumed his direction. Blessedly, he took them to the outer boundaries of the fighting. They began a climb up an incline. To their right, a makeshift permitter wall overlooked a system of trenches. They followed its contour, on towards the fortress. As they rose above the battlefield, Asphales noted how the fighting had settled into pockets of combat. It was still not orderly, and it was permeated by muck, dust, and the ever-present sound of shrill screams. This short time away from conflict gave him time the luxury of uninterrupted thought. He had a passing realisation of where he stood. Beyond the mountains¡¯ tantalising borders, the Eastern Nations waited, undiscovered to him as yet.

    ¡®Get ready, men,¡¯ Guldar shouted hoarsely. It brought Asphales back to his present situation. ¡®It will be fierce over that hill. But if we take the eastern wall, we¡¯ll have a shot at flanking the enemy.¡¯

    The company soldiers raised their voice in assent. Asphales dreaded what was to come. He lay a hand along the cool, grey stones of the perimeter wall. A few more steps. A few more pushes. He did not know how long the battle had already raged on.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    Asphales¡¯ calves were burning by the time they were nearing the hilltop. He braced himself for the clash over its tip.

    But no clash came. Guldar stopped once he bounded over the hill, looking confused.

    At the top, a single soldier lay in wait. A woman. For a moment, Asphales¡¯ heart skipped, thinking it was Ad¨¦lia. But he had been tricked by the stranger¡¯s red hair. On closer look, he noticed her more youthful appearance, her peculiar cloak, and her weapon, a relatively short, silvery blade.

    At her feet, a dozen men were crumpled and still.

    She unfurled her hood, freeing her sanguine locks. She looked directly at Asphales. ¡®You shall go no further, child of starlight.¡¯

    * * *

    For the second time in his life, El¡¯enur found himself in the hellish maws of war. Only, he hoped this nightmare wouldn¡¯t be as prolonged as the one at Feres. Images of dust and rock and rotting flesh still haunted him.

    But there was no time to dwell on that. El¡¯enur had to live up to himself here. In this moment. Live up to the memory of his brother. Be better, he told himself. Make him proud.

    He unslung his bow and stilled his breath. Beside him, a hundred other archers stood at the ready, arrows nocked.

    The first wave of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s soldiers poured over the hill and out of sight for the moment. The enemy¡¯s own ranks were advancing on the other side of the valley.

    ¡®Aim!¡¯ El¡¯enur yelled when he had judged the Order¡¯s lines were within range.

    A hundred bows aimed skyward.

    A breath.

    ¡®Release!¡¯

    A storm of arrowheads loosened, sailing through the air and landing among the distant shapes. The ones that had found their mark brought their targets tumbling down. El¡¯enur sighed. How easy it was to kill when the implement was out of your hands.

    They would do the same to you, he reminded himself.

    ¡®Aim!¡¯

    ¡®Release!¡¯

    Another wave of soldiers ran out to the battle. Another spell of metal rain fell.

    El¡¯enur had read that some commanders would have their archers continue to fire even when their lines mingled with the enemy¡¯s. But that was not the way he would do things.

    He signalled to his archers and began a slow, practiced march forward. The hillside had almost cleared out of soldiers, the rear lines now commencing their support run. A small honour guard remained to join the archers in their next manoeuvre.

    Over the hill, the fight came into full view. It was a mess of dust and steel down there. No, he would not so callously risk bringing death down upon his own. He waved his hands into another signal and the collection of archers split.

    Half the archery division would retain their slow approach and aim farther, at the back of the enemy ranks. The hope was that those soldiers would be less mobile and prone to be surprised by sudden focus, and so could not evade efficiently. He left Tholn to this task. The scarred Senh¨¬an nodded and rounded up his fifty.

    The other half, led by El¡¯enur himself, would have a more perilous job. They prepared to approach the fighting and scan the flanks for enemy troops that were breaking through or threatening to surround friendlies. From their position, they could provide support for any of their own who struggled.

    El¡¯enur spotted one such struggling soldier, unaware of two imminent assailants. He let off an arrow, bringing down one of the two. That act notified the soldier of his peril and he spun in time to meet the hitherto unseen enemy. After dealing with his target, the soldier turned back to signal his thanks. It was Telen.

    The young soldier ran to him. ¡®Thank you, sir,¡¯ he said, out of breath.

    ¡®Don¡¯t mention it. What do you see out there? Where can we help?¡¯

    ¡®It¡¯s lord Ishak, sir. His approach is pinned down just up ahead.¡¯

    El¡¯enur nodded and signalled to some of his squad. ¡®Lead us.¡¯

    Telen ran ahead, keeping clear of the melee. As he passed, El¡¯enur kept a lookout for struggles. More arrows found their mark in men¡¯s backs and sides. Those who had been rescued waved their gratitude, before promptly being occupied with a new opponent.

    Some died before El¡¯enur¡¯s arrows could render their aid.

    You can¡¯t save them all, El¡¯enur reminded himself. He hated having to say that to himself.

    He noticed another man in danger, thirty paces away. He brought up his bow, but before he did anything, the enemy lay flat on the ground. El¡¯enur smiled. It seemed he was not the only one doing the saving.

    Nelesa dashed past on horseback, in pursuit of another target. How fierce she looked. How lovely.

    El¡¯enur shook his head. Even after she was out of sight, he found his thoughts circled back to her. He was concentrating on where she was, and when she was obscured by dust or distance, he wondered if she was safe. If El¡¯enur was honest to himself, this concern was more than that felt for a friend. Perhaps he had known this for some time and chosen not acknowledge it, perhaps it had snuck on him even through his unsatisfying follies and disappointments with other women.

    Live, he told himself. See her again.

    But now, the task ahead loomed largest. He picked out Telen in the fray and broke into a run. He gave signals for his squad to continue their sweep.

    Ahead, Ishak noticed him. He was facing down a wall of enemy soldiers. The ground beneath his feet was more men than mud. Telen charged in.

    ¡®El!¡¯ Ishak called out. ¡®We need help taking the western flank!¡¯

    The archer rounded the scene, bow played furiously. Arrow after arrow tested the barrier of enemy fighters that was halting Ishak¡¯s advance.

    Then something in the wall broke. Someone approached, fast. His weapon swung wildly, leveling several of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s men. Ishak barely moved out of the way, cursing. Before El¡¯enur could blink, the newcomer was upon him. This was the downside of his method. Bows were not useful at close range.

    The caped invader dashed in, his scythe now clearly visible and bloodstained. The blade flicked up and caught El¡¯enur¡¯s bow. The string snapped with a twang, and the weapon¡¯s limbs came clean apart. El¡¯enur dropped his quiver and rolled out of the way of further damage.

    Luckily for him, the bow was not his only trick.

    The caped man held out his weapon and circled the onlookers, as if he was challenging all present to a duel. If he was smiling or enjoying this, El¡¯enur could not tell, for the man¡¯s face was half-hidden by a mask. A member of the Order, surely. El¡¯enur took a breath.

    ¡®What now?¡¯ the masked man taunted. ¡®What are you without your precious tool?¡¯

    El¡¯enur chuckled. ¡®Your first mistake is in thinking I am merely an archer. Your second is not wearing armour appropriate for the task.¡¯ He brought out two daggers from beneath his tunic.

    ¡®Enough of this!¡¯ Ishak groaned. The sub-commander looked tired indeed as he engaged the enemy, and yet his expert motions kept the fresher enemy at bay. Ishak¡¯s blade scraped against the scythe, deflecting it harmlessly, and threatening to score hits of his own.

    El¡¯enur rushed in to assist. Given the length of his target¡¯s weapon, he had to be careful. His daggers only afforded him a foot¡¯s worth of safety before the razor edge of the sickle. Rash, perhaps, but El¡¯enur closed the distance between them in a bound. He brought up both daggers in defensive position, readying for the scythe¡¯s retaliation. The blow came as anticipated. El¡¯enur ducked and directed his hands upwards. The enemy¡¯s blade followed suit, scratching a skyward path. Then, with a spin, El¡¯enur was upon him. So close he could see the flicker of fear in the enemy¡¯s bloodshot eyes.

    He plunged his daggers towards vulnerable spots. His blades licked at his opponent. They snuck underneath cloth and between plates, leaving wispy red trails.

    With a grunt, the masked man pulled back and brought down his scythe. El¡¯enur rolled to the side roughly, tasting dirt. When he rose, he felt a pain in his shoulder. His probing hand came back crimson.

    From beside him, Ishak charged afresh, not allowing the enemy to recover. His blows were furious and true, but the enemy¡¯s skill and stamina proved steady. Even with El¡¯enur dashing in to help again, even considering the injuries the opponent now bore, he was able to fend off his attackers.

    El¡¯enur¡¯s shoulder ached. His left arm became sluggish. Whereas he seemed to slow, his enemy became faster and harder to track. Those red eyes narrowed. The scythe became a blur.

    El¡¯enur tried to take it all in. Too fast. Telen running in from the sidelines to attempt rescue, screaming. Ishak, looking spent but steadfast, holding on to the vigorous flames in his andesine eyes. The approaching whirlwind. A sky that was too blue.

    Something struck him hard. His vision folded and began fading rapidly. El¡¯enur could not remember hitting the ground. Arrows were being shot. Ishak was on his knees. There was pooling blood by his tattered boots and he had dropped his weapon. The older man raised his head feebly. Bleeding. Torn. Proud.

    Then night fell and El¡¯enur was taken by unwilling sleep. All went black.

    * * *

    The fire burned. Blackfrost drank deeply and devoured life. The blade that had overthrown kingdoms was now doing the work it did best. Who was Darius but the latest in a line to be consumed by its power and driven to kill? It seemed a funny thing for an object so heavy to dance so lightly in his hands.

    At least its work now is to undo the advance of darkness, he told himself.

    The Amarant charged ahead on Mas¨¬lminur, swiping at targets within reach. His steed, as unbreakable and solid as his sword, ploughed through startled enemy lines. The man, the blade, and the horse seemed an invincible trio cutting through soldiers as effortlessly and thoughtlessly as a kitchen knife chopped vegetables.

    Blackfrost carved through body after body. The nameless, faceless shapes which fell before him did not concern Darius. They had made their choice to oppose. This was but the reaping. And after all, his mind was focused on one.

    Darius galloped around, seeking areas congested with filing enemies. Yet for all his efforts, familiar men still fell around him, killed by arrows descending from unseen heights. There was little time for thought in the breaks between engagements.

    But not none. He had seen these sights before. Blood-tainted grounds, discarded weaponry. The stench and dust that turned a good day into a dead one. And where life lingered, it was locked in combat. All about him, the caress of mace and hammer. The sting of spear and arrow. How differently men acted when all that stood between them and their end was a few inches of steel. Honour and theory¡­ those things did not matter when a blade was at your neck.

    Still his eyes sought him. Remeriel.

    Instead, Darius chanced upon Valinos. The youth was defending against a larger man with his two swords. The warrior dwarfed Valinos, with a shield almost as large as the youth and an enormous sword that had him ducking and leaping. Valinos¡¯ two blades seemed to merely tickle their opponent.

    Darius twisted the reins and made for the site of Valinos¡¯ battle. Before either him or his opponent noticed his approach, Darius leaped off his horse and drove Blackfrost through the unfortunate fellow. The sword pinned the man down and buried into the ground like a gravestone. The larger soldier twitched for a moment, then stilled.

    Darius lifted his blade and turned to Valinos. It was not a look of gratitude that met him, but annoyance.

    ¡®I had him,¡¯ Valinos said.

    ¡®Confidence¡ªand weapons¡ªenough for two men, but hardly the skill of one,¡¯ Darius shot back. ¡®Don¡¯t be rash.¡¯ Valinos scowled.

    Mas¨¬lminur returned at that moment, stopping in front of his master and snorting.

    ¡®You did well,¡¯ Darius said, laying a hand on his beast. ¡®Now, go. Find a worthy rider. I will stay here awhile.¡¯

    The horse reared and turned, galloping off between the obstacles of the battlefield.

    ¡®With me, Valinos,¡¯ said the Amarant. He signalled to a few other soldiers as well and formed a company, heading for the central gate. Valinos lagged behind, perhaps discomfited by the Amarant¡¯s direction.

    As they forged ahead neared the courtyard where Darius had met the Order, Darius located the source of trouble. Up above in the fortress¡¯ towers, archers were arrayed, picking off the unsuspecting. The path to the stronghold¡¯s gates was suspiciously clear and free of enemy presence.

    ¡®See up there?¡¯ Darius said to his men. ¡®That¡¯s what our assignment is now. Head inside in groups and find a way to stop the archers. Be careful.¡¯

    At the Amarant¡¯s commands, ten or so men broke off into smaller groups and entered the fortress by a few side gates, leaving the main entrance for Darius and Valinos. The two approached the arched gateway. Its two massive wooden doors stood ajar. A figure walked out.

    ¡®Hello, wolfie,¡¯ a man said playfully. Shurun¡¯el. His attire was pristine, his face free of the signs of struggle. Coward.

    In an instant, Darius felt the flame within course. And beside him, Valinos, too, seemed filled with tension.

    ¡®Oh, look,¡¯ Shurun¡¯el continued, ¡®the wolf has a pup now. Hello, puppy. Remember me?¡¯

    Valinos did not grace him with an answer, but his eyes were venomous. The two swords quivered in his hands.

    Shurun¡¯el gave a smile and then spun, laughing. He disappeared into the maze of stairways and walls on the other side of the gate. His mocking voice trailed.

    Almost immediately, Valinos started forward. Darius took a hold of him. ¡®Don¡¯t be foolish,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®You¡¯d be playing into their hands.¡¯ Valinos let out a grunt, still striving to be free of the Amarant¡¯s grip.

    ¡®Valinos,¡¯ said Darius more forcefully. He turned the youth to face him. Valinos¡¯ expression was furrowed with fury. ¡®Don¡¯t stain your blade or sully your heart over this. That man has taken a lot from you. Believe me, I understand. But prove to me that this isn¡¯t about vengeance for you, by staying put, and staying your hand.¡¯

    ¡®Fine,¡¯ Valinos said in a low voice. He ceased his struggle. Darius released his grasp and let out a breath. They would follow, but more carefully.

    Darius and Valinos went on. They entered the gates of the fortress and surveyed the interior. Fortunately, there were no personnel inside, at least not on the first few levels. Darius doubted the archers on the upper storeys were unguarded, but he was glad there was little resistance along the way. They searched storehouses and mess halls, armouries and dormitories, looking for passages up to the towers.

    Within the walls, one could barely hear the fighting outside, but the sense of urgency returned whenever they passed a window or balcony and saw the ongoing skirmishes on the field. Unnervingly, there were the occasional echoes of footsteps, and Darius was not sure whether they were those of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s men, also exploring the fortress, or those more sinister. Shurun¡¯el¡¯s proud face never left his mind.

    Soon, they happened upon a fork in the road. Two crumbling staircases led in opposite directions. Darius and Valinos looked at each other.

    ¡®Can I trust you to do what is right?¡¯ Darius said.

    Valinos nodded and unsheathed his swords. Darius did likewise.

    ¡®Darius,¡¯ Valinos said as he turned towards his assigned stairway. ¡®If you find him, make him pay.¡¯ He ran off, not waiting for the Amarant¡¯s assent. Darius began his climb.

    The narrow stairs took him up into cramped and windowless sections of the fortress. Darius frowned. This sector seemed unpromising as a vantage point for archers, but after a few minutes¡¯ search in the dim chamber, he spotted ladders up into still higher platforms.

    Darius emerged onto a long, curved hallway with wooden flooring. To his right, the stone wall had openings at regular intervals, overlooking the valley. However, there were no archers posted. He ran ahead, following the spiralling corridor. It led to a set of wide, stone steps and a metal door.

    Curious, the Amarant unlatched the rusting door and pushed through, Blackfrost readied.

    On the other side, he had reached the pinnacle of the fortress. A rounded viewing platform fanned out before him, its crenelated wall encircling the space. There was very little of interest laid out along the aging tiles; a rickety table here, a dilapidated storage shed there. And still no archers. Over the stone notches of the wall where they should have waited, Darius could see the mountains.

    A footstep. Someone dropped behind him.

    Darius turned and reflexively raised up Blackfrost. The blade met an incoming strike that sent him scrambling backwards.

    ¡®Darius,¡¯ the woman before him spat. It was the member of the Order who had eyed him in anger upon their first meeting. Behind her, Shurun¡¯el suddenly stood as well. He locked the metal door through which Darius had entered.

    ¡®We¡¯ve got him now, Sanah,¡¯ he said.

    Shurun¡¯el and Sanah. Siblings. Darius looked from one to the other. They had lain in wait for him and sprung a trap. Fine, if this is what you want.

    The woman flung off her cloak and readied her sword and shield. ¡®This is where you meet your end, Darius. I will have your head.¡¯

    Of course. The traitor¡¯s lover.

    Such are the vicious links of life. No life is taken without impact elsewhere. And sometimes, that impact would be headed one¡¯s own way. So be it, Darius thought. More of the Order felled here is a welcome gift.

    Shurun¡¯el walked up alongside her and drew out his cutlass. ¡®How long has it been since we¡¯ve played together, sister?¡¯ He also took off his cloak. Together they faced down the Amarant, dressed in leather, similar sandy-coloured hair atop their heads, and the same vile rage in their eyes. Well, eye, in Shurun¡¯el¡¯s case. Darius had to keep that in mind and use it to his advantage.

    ¡®Well, come on, Darius,¡¯ Shurun¡¯el said. ¡®Whom were you hoping to intercept? Dear Remeriel has already escaped your grasp. And after all, he is not even the top of the chain. Even if you best us here, even if you catch him, you will forever chase your own ignorant tail, little wolf.¡¯

    ¡®I have one question,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®How did the Order know of the Empire¡¯s plans?¡¯

    ¡®We have friends in high places,¡¯ Shurun¡¯el answered, and let out a mad laugh that echoed out over the valley. Once he composed himself, he pointed the cutlass at Darius. ¡®Come, now.¡¯

    Darius unclasped the wolf-head pins holding his pelt coat in place and let it drop. He adjusted the leather pouch at his back, given to him by the kindly man in the mountainfolk¡¯s village and now loaded with daggers. He flicked his wrist and switched his grip on Blackfrost. He shuffled his feet and attuned his stance.

    Springstep. Testing. Quick and breezy.

    Combatants sprang toward each other. The time for words was over. It was time to speak with steel and fury.

    Sanah attacked first. Her shield came down to ward off any offensive attempt from Darius, and her sword followed in smooth motion. Blackfrost¡¯s length meant that even as Darius stepped to the side, he let his blade absorb both shield and sword. Sanah¡¯s tools made music along the black edge. She stepped back following her failed attack, and Shurun¡¯el flowed in, thrusting with his cutlass. Darius compensated for the quicker motions and caught each attempt with the wider edge of his sword.

    Brother and sister groaned in frustration. Darius took this chance to step in. Quick pokes, quicker than would be expected for a sword of this size, tested their defence. Darius kicked his pelt away as he stepped back, then launched again for another trial. As he chipped away at their arsenal, Darius took note of his surroundings. Flat ground. Very few obstacles. There would be no territorial advantage, no tricks of the land. Pure swordsmanship would win the day.

    Sanah and Shurun¡¯el realised their current strategy was in vain. They split off from each other and tried to get at Darius from two angles. The Amarant spun Blackfrost and held it with two hands, point behind him. He spread his feet further out.

    Summerstride. Unrelenting heat.

    Before either sibling could get near, Darius held them off with the tip of his blade. His swings were wider and he spun from one to the other to keep them both at bay. Sanah and Shurun¡¯el circled him, trying to read the flail of metal. Darius prevented them from formulating a plan by taking a step toward Shurun¡¯el. The man brough his sabre up high to block the Amarant¡¯s swipe. Another followed, and another, and another. Shurun¡¯el stepped back, his eye darting around to catch the direction of the next strike.

    Sanah stepped in to assist her brother. Darius had to relent his offensive and focus on her. Blackfrost darted towards her midsection. Sanah raised her shield and the eagle crested on it protected her. More strikes followed, connecting and pushing her back. She hopped out of reach and Darius noticed her rubbing at her shield-arm.

    Shurun¡¯el recovered and approached again. His own posture had changed and his sabre swung differently now. Darius shifted to meet the enemy¡¯s sword. With a clang, claymore and cutlass clashed and locked. As Darius strove with Shurun¡¯el, Sanah jumped in with a yell. Darius twisted, deflecting Shurun¡¯el¡¯s cutlass and crashing into Sanah¡¯s shield. The force rebounded her arm and her sword fell harmlessly to the side. Darius¡¯ own blade found purchase and sliced into her leg, above the knee.

    Sanah cried out. ¡®Shurun, now!¡¯

    With Darius occupied in a tangle of steel, Shurun¡¯el closed the distance and swung. Darius tried to move, but he was hampered by Sanah¡¯s shield clutching Blackfrost¡¯s handle. With Shurun¡¯el¡¯s blade inches away from Darius¡¯ chest, he heaved forcefully and spun. Sanah collapsed backwards and Darius rolled over. Shurun¡¯el himself lost momentum. Darius felt a slice as Shurun¡¯el¡¯s weapon merely scratched beneath his armpit. It was enough to draw blood, but not enough to be a real wound.

    Sanah scampered away, grabbing at her knee. She roared and rushed back into the fray, heedless of the injury. Darius swapped the direction of his claymore. He shuffled his feet.

    Fallbreak. Ruinous motion.

    This stance drew on the Amarant¡¯s natural strength and the blade¡¯s hungry ferocity. With a two-hand grip, Darius swung at the approaching woman. The shield came up, but it was almost futile. With a force that would have shaken Nazhlagh itself, Blackfrost clobbered the woman and her shield. Sanah was thrown back, collapsing to the ground. There was a discernible dent in her shield. He followed up with an overhead swing that crashed into the tiles. Sanah rolled away, moments before the stones on which she had been standing splintered.

    Shurun¡¯el screamed and ran in himself, his sabre spinning into action. Darius turned on him, all fire and rage. Blackfrost sailed towards him, catching the incoming weapon and flinging it away like a toothpick. It flew out of Shurun¡¯el¡¯s hands towards the edge of the platform. Darius spun in to finish him off, but before he could complete the motion, he felt a sting in his shoulder. He looked, and Sanah was there, sword plunged in near the nape of his neck. She had pushed through pain and injury and drawn near faster than Darius anticipated. Her eyes met his. Hatred.

    Sanah pulled her sword out, leaving a trail of blood and prepared to strike again. Darius turned to her and Blackfrost followed. Sanah¡¯s sword came down towards his head and Darius barely blocked it. The two were locked in a struggle for a moment, the sharp edge of Sanah¡¯s sword touching Darius¡¯ forehead. The Amarant felt blood trickling down his face.

    He roared and pushed. Sanah was thrown back. Reaching into the pouch at his back, Darius grabbed a dagger and threw it towards the woman. She lifted her shield to block it. The dagger clanked and fell to the ground. Another followed. With each knife thrown, Darius stepped closer. With her shield constantly at eye level, Sanah did not see, did not realise the fangs closing in around her. Now inches away, Darius lunged, and pierced her torso with a spare dagger. The blade twisted and tasted flesh.

    Her shield fell away. In her terrified face, Darius saw it. He saw the women he¡¯d abused. He dropped the dagger, but the damage was done. His hands were red. Sanah coughed blood. Fear flooded her angry eyes and she collapsed to one knee.

    ¡®Leave my sister alone, you bastard,¡¯ Shurun¡¯el yelled from the other side of the platform. He had retrieved his sword and was ready to engage again. He charged towards the Amarant. Blackfrost was prepared. Furiously, furiously Shurun¡¯el tried to swing and smash past the unyielding blade.

    ¡®Look how far you¡¯ve come, huh, Darius?¡¯ he taunted. ¡®You¡¯re still the same man. You, Darius, you always played the wounded wolf. You moped around and everyone loved you. You got all you wanted then, didn¡¯t you?¡¯ Shurun¡¯el punctuated his insults with useless strikes.

    The fire flashed. With one hand on Blackfrost parrying Shurun¡¯el¡¯s attacks, his other reached for the final dagger in his pouch. Shurun¡¯el was still yelling, still accusing Darius of various things, true and untrue.

    For Ledner.

    Darius flicked Shurun¡¯el¡¯s sabre aside and reached in with his dagger. There was a crunch. A scream. Shurun¡¯el stumbled back, shrieking. He flailed about wildly.

    ¡®You bastard! You dog!¡¯ he yelled, but could not face Darius. Blood coursed out along his left cheek. He had been blinded. For good this time.

    With further curses and spitting howls, Shurun¡¯el rushed in sightlessly. Darius shifted his stance one final time.

    Winterhalt. Heavy. Life¡¯s end.

    Darius led Shurun¡¯el to the edge of the fortress platform. The man still swung his weapon, going by sound alone. He was growling, groaning, hoping to find Darius. The Amarant sighed. Thusly would Shurun¡¯el meet his fate. Darius took a stride, two, and held Blackfrost in front of him, almost like a lance. Shurun¡¯el kept stumbling forward.

    Then the blade pierced. Blackfrost shuddered, bursting out of its victim¡¯s back. Shurun¡¯el stuttered and stopped his shouts. He tried to say something, but all that escaped his mouth was blood, a red waterfall that spilled along the blade impaling him. Darius circled around so that Shurun¡¯el¡¯s back was to an opening in the fortress wall. He pulled Blackfrost out of Shurun¡¯el¡¯s stomach. Shurun¡¯el doubled over, clutching at his entrails.

    Perhaps he tried to speak again. Perhaps in his final moments, Shurun¡¯el felt some genuine remorse for the he life he had led. Darius would never know, and he did not care. He kicked at the weak, pathetic man, sending him sailing over the tower wall. Soundlessly, Shurun¡¯el fell. The wind that picked up did not sing his name.

    Darius turned urgently, expecting to face Sanah¡¯s retaliation. His own vision was not fully clear, as blood had dripped down into his eyes. But Sanah was gone. Only her cloak remained where it had been discarded.

    Darius¡¯ legs gave out. He fell, bloodied and beaten, but victorious. He had done what he wanted, had he not? Part of it, at least. He let go of Blackfrost. Gazing up, somehow, storm clouds were brewing.

    The fire still burned.

 Chapter Twenty-eight - Flame Unbridled

    Ad¨¦lia Amal¡¯ethar, flower of Luneder, dove of Gohenur, and hope of Anardes, fought with weapons too cruel in a valley too beautiful. Her spear and her sword skated and skimmed. She moved like a wind through trees. Scarlet more brilliant than blood, emerald more sparkling than the grass. Steel colder than ice. There were quiet prayers, broken hopes, and tears blacker than the night. And no starlight came to her aid.

    Where there should have been song, silence.

    Where there would have been flow, blockage.

    Ad¨¦lia, you prefer knights ¡­ swordplay ¡­ you are an Amal¡¯ethar.

    Mother.

    To aid you in that quest, I have something for you.

    Father.

    Their faces were impossibly lovely and kind, their voices infinitely sustaining. She was not a little girl anymore, playing at war games with a wooden spear, but her parents¡¯ memory still nourished her, still drove her, still broke her.

    She ran onward now, not through flowers, not through welcoming city streets, but over bloodied land and dying men. And they parted before her, falling to the allure of her bladed arms, while others rallied around her, shouted her name, showered her with praises.

    Amarant. What did that mean? What did it bring?

    Though the mission before her was clear, she had never felt as in the dark before. Like a star that had forgotten how to spin, how to sail o¡¯er the night sky. Ad¨¦lia wished for the healing of the world. She still did. Stronger now than when she had been young. But it was so hard to hold on to that aching flame.

    And Asphales¡­ where was Asphales Es¨¦linor?

    There was no time to think. Fire dropped from the sky, a blaze that lit up and fed on grass and fallen flesh. The Order was desperate to halt the Empire¡¯s advance, to try and trap them. A group of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s men was scattered by a hail of burning arrows.

    Ad¨¦lia gathered herself. She was needed here. Needed to take the western flank of the valley. She approached the fire.

    Along the way, she noticed Guldar. He was enmeshed in metal, his armour adding to his already sizeable form. His hammer routed those who dared to cross his path.

    ¡®Guldar!¡¯ she called out. The sub-commander turned after his foe collapsed.

    ¡®My lady?¡¯

    ¡®Please, find Asphales. Find him, and take the east. I¡¯ll hold them off here. Darius has already gone on ahead to the front.¡¯

    Without complaint, Guldar nodded and trotted off, rounding up a few followers.

    Another wave of arrows fell, their shrill whistle rousing a company of shielded spearmen to gather about Ad¨¦lia and put up a defensive wall. When their shields lowered, the hillside was almost engulfed in flames. Thick, scorching banners created a heated corridor. Disoriented, a few soldiers were caught off-guard by the Order¡¯s forces emerging through the blaze. Ad¨¦lia directed the spearmen towards the conflict. When they clashed, the heat drew out even more sweat and warmed their weapons.

    Fire. Like Feres. Like Luneder.

    Ad¨¦lia gritted her teeth as Oneledim extinguished another life.

    Then one stood among the fire, untouched and unaffected. A shape far too familiar, a phantom in red and black.

    The battlefield fell away. Recognition pierced her like shards of glass, and the hooded man before shattered into focus. A quaint, quiet voice. A cold and deceptive veneer. Eyes like quartz.

    Umar he called himself. The assassin from the night of fire.

    ¡®You,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia called out. She tried to summon the pent-up rage that had festered for years in the forest, biding. But she sounded weak. No different than the little girl who had stood powerless on those docks twelve years prior.

    Umar pushed over a freshly killed soldier, his twin daggers slicked with lifeblood. He eyed her, and if the assassin remembered, it did not show. Perhaps that angered Ad¨¦lia even more. She approached, grabbing hold of a spear belonging to a fallen warrior. She hurled it towards the assassin like a javelin. He stepped aside.

    ¡®Hello again, little dove,¡¯ he said, dispassionate.

    So, he did remember.

    ¡®Where is he?¡¯ Ad¨¦lia asked. She fought back heavy breaths. Here was a piece of the past, a bridge. Something within her seized and threatened to burst.

    ¡®I don¡¯t have time for you,¡¯ came the dismissive reply, and he turned away. He began a slow walk into the flames.

    ¡®No!¡¯ Ad¨¦lia screamed. She looked up. Above the rising smoke, a group of sentries were nocking bows, lighting flame, aiming. Soon, this area would be peppered with arrows. A platoon of the Order¡¯s men lay in wait, ready to rush in after the volley.

    No. She would not lose him. She felt the decisive spring of her step as the whistling picked up overhead. The men behind her shouted incomprehensibly after her as shields went up again. But Ad¨¦lia was gone. She leaped through flame in pursuit of the assassin. The smoke bit at her eyes, tested her nose, tempted her throat. Yet she ran on, spear in hand.

    Breaking through to the other side, she caught Umar¡¯s fleeing shape. He was heading up a hillock towards the fortress itself. He cast a glance backwards and saw her. He broke into a run.

    Ad¨¦lia followed and prepared for another throw. Oneledim was in position a second later, and with a stilled breath, she released the lance. It sailed true across the gap between her mound and his and landed. The assassin cried out and stumbled as the spear tore into his leg. Drawing out her shortsword, Ad¨¦lia dashed ahead. Umar kicked free of the weapon, hopped away, and dragged himself across a cobblestone path and into a side chamber in the fortress, perhaps a storeroom of sorts.

    When she drew close to the path, Ad¨¦lia retrieved her spear. Above, something caught her eye. Over the steep and crooked ramparts of the fortress, she beheld a strange patch of veiling grey above the fortress¡¯ crown where a bizarre, solitary storm cloud was forming though all the sky was clear. But she paid it no further mind, as there was now a trail of blood to track. Coming up to the moss-covered wall, she pushed against a wooden door and barged inside.

    By the light streaming in through high openings, the speckled crimson trail running along the chipped and chiselled stone floor revealed the assassin had been heading towards the back of the enclosure. It wound through strewn crates and benches loaded with old kegs and over the threshold of another entrance. Ad¨¦lia prowled low, tracing the path. It led her into a darker chamber, and here, the assassin had tried to shake his pursuer. The blood trail split erratically. No matter. She would find him.

    But in the end, it was Umar who found her. After a time with her ears perked for a hint of breath or shuffle, something other than the rushing blood within and the voices in her mind. Ad¨¦lia dove for cover when she heard a light, feathery movement from the shadows. Umar had been in hiding, and perhaps because he realised he would not shake her, decided to launch an offensive first. His dagger bounced off the bricks.

    Then, Umar slinked out of the cramped rafters. She saw him up close now. He had aged. The edges of his face hardened and more lines criss-crossed his pale skin like splaying rivers. But that cold and careless look was the same.

    ¡®You have me now,¡¯ the assassin said, huffing, but with a dagger poised by his side. ¡®What is it you want?¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia circled the room, making sure to block the exit. Umar kept his distance, taking light steps away from her. Before she spoke, she tried to silence the innumerable questions burning, racing, twisting in her head. But one came out nonetheless.

    ¡®Did you kill her? Was it you?¡¯

    ¡®Yes,¡¯ said Umar.

    The wild drumbeat of Ad¨¦lia¡¯s heart pounded faster. Her pulse throbbed. And while the echo of Umar¡¯s answer lingered in the dark, she sprang towards him. Spear outheld, she aimed for his chest. Umar leant away from the blow and deflected it into the rafters with his one remaining dagger. With his other hand, he reached for a wine bottle from a nearby rack and threw it at the Amarant. Its effect was negligible, but in the distraction, he scrambled for the opposite wall and collected his other weapon.

    To his credit, the assassin did not run for the doorway. He faced his opponent, limping as he was, and fought back. He darted around the cellar, keeping out of the spearhead¡¯s reach. In these confined quarters, perhaps Umar should have had the upper hand and been able to close the distance. But the fierceness of Ad¨¦lia¡¯s thrusts and parries kept him cornered and unable to capitalise on an opening.

    Ad¨¦lia needed more. She tried to think of Lord Eltanin¡¯s incantation to imbue starlight. Astera¡ª But even attempting to invoke the words in her mind brought a numbness to her chest, a languor to her spear. She grimaced and kept up the barrage of strikes.

    The assassin took his chance¡ªhow he had spotted it, Ad¨¦lia did not know¡ªand used his daggers to trap Oneledim in the tangled wooden rafters. With a playful scrape along Ad¨¦lia¡¯s weapon, he approached now. The daggers glinted and Ad¨¦lia could see their serpentine motifs. She released her hold on her spear, leaving it lodged in the wall, and brandished her shortsword. Her sidearm blocked the inbound daggers and Ad¨¦lia sidestepped to safety. Bouncing right back into a strike, the Amarant swung for the assassin¡¯s neck. Umar ducked, bowing under the suspended spear, and came around for another attempt.

    Ad¨¦lia was already retaliating. Her shortsword came down in a silver blur. It crashed into one of Umar¡¯s daggers and sent it careening to the floor, cutting into the man¡¯s hand also. With his right hand disabled, Ad¨¦lia grabbed hold of Umar¡¯s left wrist and slammed her body into his. They thumped into a wall. A groan escaped Umar¡¯s lips, and as he reeled from the impact, Ad¨¦lia pinned his left arm against a wooden frame and drove her shortsword through his palm. It pierced flesh and frame and remained there, immovable. The assassin lost his grip on the dagger that had been in his left hand. Ad¨¦lia grabbed hold of it before it hit the ground and thrust it through Umar¡¯s other hand and into the wall panelling.

    The assassin choked back a cry. Spittle and blood sprayed between his clenched teeth as the Amarant stepped back and surveyed her handiwork. With arms outstretched. quivering, and leaking blood, Umar was flailing his legs, stamping the ground, twisting in his cloak.

    Ad¨¦lia did not give him the chance to force his release. She scanned the cellar for something with which to immobilise the assassin, and happened upon some ropes. She ripped them free of their post and quickly secured Umar¡¯s arms to the wooden beams in the wall. When Umar struggled against his restraints, she took hold of the dagger dropped in the melee and stuck it in the man¡¯s thigh. With no further resistance, she tied the assassin¡¯s legs together.

    Ad¨¦lia breathed. She took another backwards step, dislodged her spear, and faced him down. The tip of the spear was aimed at the incapacitated assassin.

    No, Ad¨¦lia was no longer a powerless child. How often that child had dreamed of standing face to face with the one who had taken her family. That girl was weak and wrapped in terror and tears, merely imagining what she might one day do. Ad¨¦lia the Amarant was not that girl. She would not hesitate.

    The pain finally overcame the assassin. He squealed and thrashed about, looking towards the ceiling, begging for escape.

    No. You will not go easily. Not until you have felt the searing agony of the flames you lit.

    ¡®Face me,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said.

    With a groan, Umar lowered his gaze. His face, normally so easily uncaring and impassive, was strained. Sweat beaded off his unkempt hair. ¡®What,¡¯ he said, ¡®will you do to me as Darius did to Nathariel?¡¯ His words came in ragged spurts.

    ¡®No. I will not be as merciful. And before my spear has pierced your heart and you learn why I am thus called, you will taste such pain as you have never known. You killed in the shadows, taken life without being seen. And now, no eye shall witness your death.¡¯

    * * *

    The chime of a thousand death knells resounded beyond heartless, silent walls. They were not ringing for him, but just as those outside were dying, here too a life would be ended like the putting out of a candle. The sun barely dared to look through the high, slitted windows, barely braved the shadows encasing the tomb-still grimness of the cellar, barely caressed his gaunt and swollen face.

    And in this wistful light, the assassin knelt in blood.

    He hungered for that light, for that far-off air. For anything fresh to invade this crypt and give him rest. But no such charity was forthcoming.

    His tormentor stood above him, an angel garbed in silver and scarlet. Umariel supposed this was just punishment for his deeds. No penance would make up for a life that had been so committed to ending it. Since he had lived on the edge of a knife, it was only inevitable that he would eventually slip and be skewered by its blade.

    With each blow, each tear, each cut, he saw the names and faces of the dead condemning him. There was to be no redemption, only his judgment, delivered at the point of a merciless spear.

    Yet. No, there was one good thing he had done. There was one. He held on to it, long after he could no longer feel anything, long after the dove¡¯s justice bled into vengeance.

    Then, in one moment of respite, the woman relented. She raised his head with her spear. Umariel could hardly see her now. She hissed at him. She accused. She questioned.

    He merely chuckled, and his body spasmed and sent waves of pain for his effort.

    ¡®No, my lord didn¡¯t kill you,¡¯ he said. He forced out the words, his tongue numbed but able to taste unmistakeable globs of blood. ¡®But I see now¡­ I see what he¡¯s done to you is worse than death.¡¯

    ¡®Who is your lord?¡¯ she spat. Another crest of pain, unknown in origin, shot through him.

    He saw his face now. Bright, burning eyes. A ghastly face. And strength beyond reckoning. Beyond the seas, beyond the waves, he would wait. And even in death, Umariel would deliver this innocent dove to his master¡¯s lair. A final act in defiance of their songs.

    The assassin parted his lips to speak. The woman leaned in close.

    ¡®Lord¡­ Despreaux¡­¡¯ he said at last. Silence. Stillness.

    Umariel could no longer think, or speak, or hear. The visions of his mind were clearer than those of his eyes. But he held on, just enough to see her reaction, just to see the dread settle in.

    And as she stepped back, as she squeezed her weapon with shaking hands, as her brows creased in anger and anguish, Umariel shed a tear. For the one he would never see again and for a promise he would never be able to keep.

    His eyes threatened to close. He steadied himself for the end. The woman paused a moment, lifting her tool of judgment. Then she pushed through pain and conscience, and slammed her spear into a monster¡¯s heart. And in his last, pitiful moments, he thought of her. As his life escaped and his breath caught, he thought of her. He thought of Fr¨¬ri?l.

    I¡¯m sorry.

    * * *

    As one who had never been wanted, the surge of attention given him by the Order brought Valinos to the brink of strange satisfaction. Abandoned by his parents and scorned by his adoptive father, connection to others was not a domain in which he felt well-endowed. True, there was Asphales. There had been, all-too-briefly, Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s company. And most recently, there looked to be Fen¡¯asel¡¯s mystifying companionship. Still, there were some links which he had never formed, some bonds of a type he had never¡ªand perhaps would never¡ªknow.

    He doubted there was anything parental, or indeed well-intentioned, to be expected from the Order¡¯s desire but he could not help being intrigued. He was wanted, that he understood. He just wished he knew what for.

    And what of Darius? Certainly, there was an unexpected kindness in the training the Amarant had offered and in the undeniable acts which spoke of a softer heart than the cold man would let on. Even on this day, moments before the fighting had begun, Darius had asked him if he truly wanted to go through with this. But it is exactly that which was most irksome. Darius tried to shelter him from realities Valinos knew he would have to face sooner or later. If Darius had his way, perhaps Valinos would never find out what he had so desperately wished for.

    No, the answers would come here and now.

    So Valinos continued his sweep of the Order¡¯s upper fortress, not finding any such answers in the rotting sconces, the mouldy walls, or the derelict hallways. Echoes from below kept him moving at steady pace, heading for the alcoves and windows on the higher levels whence the archers laid waste to the army below. His two swords, light and dark, pointed ahead as he climbed another winding set of steps. Seeing Anfr¨¬r made him think of Asphales. He had not renamed the weapon, in his friend¡¯s honour, and he wondered now how Asphales fared among the chaos in the valley. He earnestly hoped that newfound strength in starlight would deliver him.

    There was light ahead. Valinos stepped out of the narrow stairway and into a sparsely-decorated foyer. Simple, tiled walls led to a gateless arch and beyond it, a balcony stretched on with many columns. The afternoon shone merrily on the smooth, grey stone tiles. However, it was not the architecture that was of import, but its occupants. Bowmen were positioned in a row along the railing, taking shots into the open.

    Valinos rushed to the nearest wall before any of the archers noticed him. He felt his heartbeat quicken pace and a tightness take hold of his throat. He stooped over the edge and spied out the enemy¡¯s assemblage. At least seven foes. Valinos wondered what approach, if any, would be effective here.

    Could he perhaps take them out by stealth? No, they were not spread far enough apart from one another.

    Could his speed carry him up close in time to dispatch them all? Probably not, and at any rate, they seemed equipped with sidearms for close-quarter combat.

    Could he perhaps get near to one sentry unseen, and then use him as leverage to divert the others? Even if this worked, he had no exit strategy.

    Valinos took a deep breath and brought up his swords. It was better than nothing. He exhaled, and stepped out on the pavement.

    Hardly a footfall landed before someone spotted him. But it was not the archers, busy as they were with their support fire. In fact, it took the archers so long to respond, Valinos half-thought his plan would have worked, if not for this woman¡¯s infernal timing.

    For it was, in fact, the woman who had pounced upon his approach as if she had been watching the whole time.

    ¡®My, my, you are delectable,¡¯ she said. Valinos spun. Her voice bounced and teased as she eyed him up and down with penetrating, sapphire eyes. ¡®Who would have thought our secret weapon would be so scrumptious?¡¯

    She was reclining on a dresser. He recognised her. She had been in the courtyard on Darius¡¯ arrival at the fortress. A member of the Order, then. The brooch pinned to her leather jerkin confirmed her identity.

    ¡®What do you want?¡¯ Valinos spat.

    ¡®Oh, come now. You is so impersonal.¡¯ She hopped down and sauntered over, her boots clacking. ¡®Call me Rubi.¡¯

    One of the archers finally took notice. ¡®You there!¡¯ he shouted upon descrying Valinos. He signalled to the others and drew back his bowstring. ¡®Intruder!¡¯

    ¡®Touch him,¡¯ Rubi snapped, ¡®and I shall have your manhood on a plate.¡¯

    Credible threat or not, the archer lowered his weapon.

    ¡®There¡¯s a good boy. Run along now to the next platform, and take all your friends with you.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, my lady,¡¯ the bowman said with a sycophantic bow. He promptly collected the others, and each in turn took up their equipment and disappeared. The woman named Rubi turned back to Valinos, hands on her hips.

    ¡®Alone at last, lovely.¡¯

    Valinos readied his weapons. He swallowed back the onsetting panic. Authority on display, and skill, no doubt. This woman, looking barely older than he, was dangerous. Valinos figured the casual nature of how she wore her weapon was deceiving. He recalled facing down Shurun¡¯el, who had similarly emanated power with ease.

    ¡®That Darius doesn¡¯t let you have any fun, does he?¡¯ She swayed toward Valinos, fingering the pommel of her weapon.

    ¡®I have a job to do,¡¯ Valinos said. ¡®Stay out of my way.¡¯

    Rubi lowered her eyes into a wolfish stare. ¡®Oh, so do I, dear. Have at it. Let¡¯s both do our best. The resulting friction should be marvellous.¡¯ The woman flicked her hand and unsheathed her rapier, slow and sensuous. She seemed to savour the drawn-out sliding of steel on leather. Then, Valinos found himself facing its point as the woman took one step back into her stance.

    He gave both swords a practice swing and started circling the woman. But before Valinos could even catch her movements properly, Rubi¡¯s blade was playing about his hand. In a blink, he lost Gulren, as a clang ten feet away told him. He stared at his now-empty left hand in disbelief.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    ¡®Now, you don¡¯t need that, do you? How is it fair that your blades outnumber mine?¡¯

    Anger and fear flashed in Valinos¡¯ eyes.

    ¡®Oh, not that one? Alright, how about the other?¡¯ Another quick step. Another clang. Anfr¨¬r fell to the pavement and slid away to his right, dangerously close to a gap in the balustrade to the sheer drop below.

    ¡®Go on,¡¯ she said. ¡®Take your pick.¡¯

    Damn you.

    Valinos didn¡¯t move.

    Rubi returned to her casual stance, rapier now pointed down. She tucked a wave of jet-black hair behind her ear and fanned her face in a mock gesture. ¡®Oh, your stare does things to a girl.¡¯

    Damn you!

    ¡®Darling, would it make you feel better if you had both your toys? Go on, then.¡¯

    Without taking his eyes off her, Valinos took careful steps, first to his right, collecting Anfr¨¬r, and then to his left, retrieving Gulren.

    ¡®So,¡¯ she started up again conversationally, ¡®your hands are no good. Let¡¯s see if you¡¯ve got other talents.¡¯ Her rapier came up again.

    Valinos glowered. What is this distance between us? Why?

    He tightened his grip on both blades and stepped in to the duel. He had to remember Darius¡¯ lessons on the placement of two swords as he needed to switch between defence and offence when circumstance and the enemy¡¯s position demanded. Rubi lunged deftly in between his strikes. Valinos had a split second to read the direction of the incoming blow.

    There!

    Anfr¨¬r answered Rubi¡¯s attack and caught it in its guard. It was Gulren¡¯s turn to speak. The light-coloured blade hewed at its target, but Rubi had merely feinted her charge. Before Gulren could connect, the woman was well out of reach.

    ¡®Not bad, gorgeous,¡¯ she said. Her riposte was vicious and it took both of Valinos¡¯ swords to catch it. He was pushed back.

    Inwardly, Valinos wanted to scream, to rage. At this woman, at the Order, at the world. So weak. He let his swords express these things for him. Gulren and Anfr¨¬r sang in tandem for the next attack, one¡¯s voice rising while the other hushed, then swapping tones.

    Still, they proved fruitless against Rubi¡¯s abilities. Her single weapon humiliated Valinos¡¯ two straining swords. Why?

    He swung again. She stepped out of the way as easily as one would avoid a drunken sloth. She landed a few cuts on him, but they were playful, mere annoyances rather than real setbacks. Why?

    How would he get answers if he could not hold his own here?

    Another swing. Rubi went through his swords, as if their edge meant nothing, as if she were water over stone.

    Damn it!

    She was suddenly close and smiling. She reached over his tunic and dragged her hand across his chest. Her fragrance was noticeable; lavender and pine and citrus. She giggled as she pulled away out of reach.

    ¡®You want to know, don¡¯t you?¡¯ she said.

    Valinos attacked. He thrust through empty air. Rubi was by his ear. Her voice sent tingles. ¡®I know all about you, dear. Don¡¯t you want to know?¡¯

    Valinos roared and spun into a strike. Rubi was no longer there. Her feet tapped around the pavement and she skipped about lightly. She was no longer even facing him. She leaned over the balcony, taking in the battle below. Valinos rushed at her and attacked. His swords bounced off stone. He caught a glimpse of the clash playing out below, a hundred feet or more beneath him. From this height, there was a strange order to the anarchy, patterns of movements in the madness.

    Rubi appeared beside him. ¡®You will one day command such a force, Valinos.¡¯

    He started. How does she know my name? What does she mean? He turned to her. She was looking at him as though they were two friends on a stroll. Her deep eyes were esurient, longing for more, demanding more. Her arms were folded. Her rapier was not even drawn anymore.

    Her scent again. Overpowering. Her lips, ravenous when she spoke. Rubi was captivating, he could not deny it. But Valinos tried to hold on to the truth that all this beauty was meant as a distraction. How could he be so far behind? How could he be so easily manipulated?

    Damn! Damndamndamndamn!

    A creak. A crackle. A crack.

    A rumble.

    Then a sharp cyan light. A violent eruption in blues and greys. The lightning bolt, the bright flash out of darkness. The release of a pent-up storm. Rain over a desert.

    Valinos opened his eyes. Gulren and Anfr¨¬r were there in his hands, but they seemed different. They were suffused with a blue-green glow and they let off sparks. He felt¡­ light, yet full. Awake, and never needing rest. And free, as if he¡¯d broken a yoke he had never known he carried.

    What is this?

    He rose up, feeling tall, as if he stood over the world. Something pure and violent coursed through him and out into his swords. He could hear their music more clearly now. How had he never noticed?

    Rubi looked on, awed but apparently having expected his transformation. ¡®That¡¯s better, dear.¡¯

    ¡®What am I?¡¯ Valinos said, looking to her.

    ¡®You¡­ are the key to the Dragonking¡¯s return.¡¯

    What?

    ¡®You lie!¡¯ Valinos yelled. A thunderclap sounded.

    Rubi flinched. ¡®The truth does not change, no matter how much you may wish otherwise.¡¯

    ¡®What am I?!¡¯ he roared, and the storm within was alive. Rage. It was no longer a restricting, caged emotion that bound him. Now, it was a force freed of its reins.

    Rubi¡¯s mischievous demeanour resurfaced. She ran in towards him. Her face was level with his. He could see the sparkle in her eyes.

    ¡®Valinos, we are going to need to become much closer before I divulge more. Alas, that is all for now. It¡¯s a good thing you¡¯re so handsome.¡¯

    Then she kissed him. Fire and ice flooded him. Her hands latched on to his shoulders. And while Valinos was still savouring the taste of her lips, she gave him a hard shove, and was gone.

    On his backside, Valinos twisted round to catch her, but she was nowhere to be seen. He rose and ran to the balcony railing. Perhaps she had leapt down to a lower level. She was gone. His opportunity was gone.

    Valinos screamed. Screamed with a voice that rent the heavens.

    You are the key to the Dragonking¡¯s return.

    Before he knew it, Valinos was on the move. The storm turned to his next task. He eyed the stairway to the upper levels and took off after the earlier archers. Gathering clouds followed. His thoughts and his steps, his being, were all rumbling, all roiling.

    Then he was upon them. At the pinnacle of the fortress, nothing about them but the cooling air and the tip of mountains, he overtook them. The archers looked up at the unnatural clouds and then at him. Brief flashes of terrified faces before they fell to his blades. Something like sparks of lightning flew out in erratic patterns with each blow. Singed corpses fell among charring blood. The tempest rolled on, and all it touched was silenced.

    When the still came, Valinos was down on ground level by the fortress gate. He could not remember the descent, or how many he had met along his return. His head ached. He put a hand to his forehead and noticed dumbly that his swords were entirely red. Their light had extinguished. He wished now for another draught of that energy. He wished to become the storm again.

    What am I?

    As he dragged himself along the courtyard, not really heading for anywhere in particular, something caught his attention. Among the burning debris, among the scattered rubble and discarded weaponry, a body lay fallen on the cracked cobblestone. Something about it seemed familiar, yet it was not one that Valinos had eliminated, as far as he could recall.

    He stepped close to it. What was once a golden robe enveloped the bloody, mangled shape of a man. His face was unrecognisable, but his hair retained its old shape well enough. Shurun¡¯el.

    Valinos looked up at the heights of the fortress. So. Darius had found the wretch and disposed of him.

    The thing on the ground moved, ever so slightly. Standing over Shurun¡¯el¡¯s body, Valinos felt something between pity and pride. The great Shurun¡¯el, laid low. And as he lay there, blinded, barely breathing, broken, Valinos decided it would be a small catch to defeat Shurun¡¯el, like merely grasping for a puff of cloud. He would have the sky.

    Valinos smiled.

    * * *

    ¡®You shall go no further, child of starlight.¡¯

    Asphales did not belong here. The woman¡¯s address, delivered with such chilling confidence, singled him out like a prop out of place. Her eyes, the light and grainy brown of chrysanth-stone, saw through him. He clutched on to Nador¨¬l, invoking a strength not his own to carry him through.

    ¡®Pay her no mind,¡¯ Guldar said from beside him. ¡®We¡¯ll get past.¡¯

    The girl gave the sub-commander a look of amusement, and though he was three times her size, somehow Asphales did not doubt her.

    Guldar stepped out on the grassy plateau in front of Asphales and the company. Asphales could not even see their opponent¡¯s tiny frame behind the hulking mass of steel. But behind her, the parapet wound like a serpent, around to the base of the fortress itself and the barracks which surely house the Order¡¯s reinforcements. By that structure, Asphales could also see a path descending into the valley of the battle. All that lay between them and their goal was a patch of yard and a girl.

    ¡®So,¡¯ Guldar said, ¡®the Order lets even children in?¡¯

    ¡®And it would appear the Empire hires beasts,¡¯ the woman said.

    Guldar gave a short laugh. ¡®I would not think it fair for me and all my men to swarm you, but we need to get through. So, this is going to be between us two alone.¡¯

    ¡®You are welcome to try.¡¯

    ¡®If I prevail, my company will advance.¡¯

    ¡®And if I do, you will leave the child of starlight to me.¡¯

    Guldar let out a groan. ¡®Insolent brat. But I couldn¡¯t bring myself to take your life so we¡¯ll call it when you fall.¡¯

    ¡®And I will try not to kill you.¡¯ The woman stepped out from the amassed corpses at her feet and raised her weapon.

    Asphales watched as Guldar readied himself, hoisting his warhammer. The other men of the Empire looked apprehensive, but they knew not to intervene. They settled into positions at ease around the wall. Asphales lowered his own sword, feeling uneasy.

    The combatants leapt into action as if on cue. Guldar approached with heavy steps and sent out a few testing hits with his hammer. The woman, nimble and light-footed despite her cloak, dashed around the incoming strikes and unleashed a few of her own. The nicks and cuts were absorbed by the hammer¡¯s unyielding handle. Asphales flinched with each strike aimed at the subcommander.

    Then, Guldar pushed against the woman¡¯s weapon with the bar of his warhammer. It sent her scampering backwards, and Guldar followed up with an overhead strike. He brought the hammer down with a force that split earth. The woman avoided it, and while the hammer was lodged in the dirt, she hopped on to the hammerhead itself and leapt toward the warrior¡¯s face, bringing her knee up. She connected and then landed softly, while Guldar stumbled back. He wiped blood from his nose.

    The woman was already upon him. Before he could raise his hammer in response, the blade had launched for his chest. Asphales gasped. But the sound of scraping steel told him the attack was not successful. Guldar had lifted his arm and blocked it with his brace, which looked to have a ridged, reinforced plate.

    ¡®A neat Eastern trick,¡¯ the woman said.

    Guldar abandoned his main weapon and produced a small, spiked mace. He swung it with his free arm and the woman was forced to relinquish her thrust. The smaller weapon (which seemed a plaything in Guldar¡¯s massive hand) was better suited to match the woman¡¯s agility.

    And still, despite the combination of his armbrace as a shield and a nimbler weapon, Guldar did not make much progress. His movements seemed to be slowing. Asphales realised with dread that fatigue must have been settling in.

    And then it happened. The woman thrust at Guldar¡¯s shoulder, and connected. Guldar held back a pained croak. The woman¡¯s sword came back red, and Guldar¡¯s left arm slumped. Asphales wanted to run in and help. But it all ensued too fast.

    Guldar wielded his mace slowly, much too slowly. Before the weapon was even fully raised, the woman was in again, and her sword pierced his other shoulder. The mace fell, and his arm hung useless. Trails of blood traced their way down his breastplate. She circled the burly warrior, her back to the company by the wall now.

    ¡®I don¡¯t need these to take you on!¡¯ Guldar roared. And he charged. But whatever he intended to do, the woman was prepared for it. She spun around him as he barrelled ahead and directed the larger man¡¯s momentum into the wall. Guldar crashed into the stones. And with a light touch, the woman toppled him over the perimeter wall into the ditch below. The crack of his landing resounded.

    ¡®Guldar!¡¯ yelled Asphales, and ran to the wall, heedless of the woman still present there. He peered over and saw the sub-commander¡¯s twisted shape below.

    ¡®Don¡¯t worry,¡¯ the woman said. ¡®Your commander will live, but he¡¯ll carry wounds of both body and pride after this.¡¯

    The company sprang after Asphales and surrounded him for protection. Their weapons were brandished.

    ¡®We won¡¯t let you,¡¯ one of them said defiantly.

    The woman sighed. ¡®No honour.¡¯ She whistled, and from somewhere beyond the wall, a band of masked warriors appeared. They stepped up to the woman in formation.

    ¡®You have a choice now,¡¯ she said. ¡®You may go willingly and with dignity, leaving the child to me. Or you can be taken in despair.¡¯

    Asphales looked around in panic. There were about ten men of Fara¡¯ethar, and about as many of the Order had come out. He thought back to a similar situation in the forest, back to when it felt like he had lost everything. It was happening again. He knew he could not protect them all.

    ¡®Go with them,¡¯ Asphales said in a low voice.

    ¡®Pardon, sir?¡¯ one of the soldiers asked, turning to him with incredulity.

    ¡®Go,¡¯ Asphales said. ¡®Leave me here. There is good you can do elsewhere. Leave me. Help the others.¡¯

    ¡®But sir,¡¯ another protested.

    Asphales turned his gaze to the woman, who eyed him with approval. ¡®You will let them live.¡¯ The woman nodded.

    Turning back to the soldier who had seized his arm in protest, Asphales said, ¡®Go, please. Tend to Guldar as well.¡¯

    Reluctantly, the ten soldiers of Fara¡¯ethar turned back, escorted to the lip of the hill by the masked warriors.

    ¡®You will leave us now,¡¯ the woman called out to her own band. Quick as they had come, the masked marauders vanished.

    A minute later, Asphales was alone with her on the grassy hill. A breeze from the mountains picked up, blowing their capes like flags of warring nations. Smoke from the ruins of the nearby battle formed blotches over the otherwise flawless, blue sky.

    ¡®Let¡¯s be acquainted properly,¡¯ she said. ¡®I am Fr¨¬ri?l, Princess of Sheneh-Adrani, Tamer of Seas and Serpents.¡¯

    ¡®I do believe you made that up,¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®Perhaps I have, but it¡¯s fun pretending, isn¡¯t it? Like you, playing at the hero. You may wield real strength, but I can see your courage and will are false. Now, what is your true name?¡¯

    ¡®Asphales Es¨¦linor,¡¯ he said.

    ¡®It¡¯s nice to meet you, Asphales.¡¯ Fr¨¬ri?l bowed. This girl was strange. She was young, but her eyes were coloured with pain beyond her age, and her voice was rich and full as of one who had considered many things. The skin of her hands was smooth, but she held her weapon with the steadiness of a veteran. How many lives had she already taken in her brief life?

    ¡®What is your blade¡¯s name?¡¯ she asked. Asphales questioned why it mattered to her. As if she had read his misgivings, she continued. ¡®We are not crossing mere iron bars here. Our swords are beautiful and dreadful things, alive to starlight as much as we are.

    ¡®Nador¨¬l. It was my father¡¯s.¡¯

    ¡®A lovely name. This is Denethris, the Desire of Kings.¡¯ She held up her sword with the pride of a parent showing off a particularly bright child.

    ¡®You¡¯re wrong, you know,¡¯ Asphales said.

    ¡®Hmm?¡¯

    ¡®About me. I may be scared, yes. But my desire to turn back the dark, my will to protect this world¡­ they are not false. And if that means facing you here, I am ready.¡¯

    ¡®We shall see about that.¡¯ Fr¨¬ri?l raised Denethris, peering at Asphales over its edge. Her eyes were aflame. She took a step back.

    Asphales lifted Nador¨¬l up with both hands by his side and bent his knees slightly. His breathing echoed within his helmet.

    Starlight guide me.

    The tension broke like a crumbling dam. Asphales rushed in, barely able to hear anything over his heartbeat and his breaths. In his mind, he had been trying to hold pictures of those he cared for, but they all cleared out in a maddened gust when he took the first step forward. There was only this. There was only Nador¨¬l in his hands and Fr¨¬ri?l before him.

    The first scintillating clash of blade and starlight came like the expected boom of a tidal wave. Then another followed. Before each connection, there was a brief moment of silence. Of nothing. Then the jolt of two colliding weapons reminded Asphales of what was at stake. If he lowered his sword here, the Dragonking would rear his head and devour all he knew.

    This tide of steel continued as Nador¨¬l and Denethris met, then retreated, then met again. What stories were they telling in their sharpened tongues? Asphales tried to keep in mind all he had learned, from Ser¨¬n, from Eltanin, from Ad¨¦lia. He thanked them for each second of life their training were affording him.

    This deadly dance would have to go on, he knew. When he looked at Fr¨¬ri?l, she was smiling. She was dominant and controlled the tempo, and she was doing this instinctively. There did not seem to be conscious thought or effort to her motions. Asphales wondered what heartbreaks had befallen this girl for conflict to come so naturally to her.

    Then, as he expected would happen eventually, he took a step out of time, sang a note out of tune. Fr¨¬ri?l noticed this and spun into an attack. Asphales hurried back, leaning away from danger, out of her range. He thought the blade wouldn¡¯t reach him. There was a metallic click, and then he was bleeding.

    Asphales regained his balance and put a hand to his shoulder. He winced. Fr¨¬ri?l¡¯s sword had definitely cut him. How?

    The mystery unveiled itself when he took a closer look at her weapon. Fr¨¬ri?l herself had halted her own offence and held up her sword proudly. It was longer than before. Glancing along its length, Asphales noticed some grooves and notches in the steel. By some mechanism, Denethris could extend. It now resembled more of a full-length broadsword.

    ¡®Impressed?¡¯ said Fr¨¬ri?l.

    Perhaps if he had not found himself at the wrong end of that sword, Asphales would have indeed thought this a wild, story-like curiosity from his books. But books don¡¯t make one bleed. He nodded and then readied his weapon again. He had to be cautious.

    Astera iatemai, Asphales said to himself, touching the wound. Thankfully, the pain withdrew, and mobility in his arm returned.

    Fr¨¬ri?l cocked her head. ¡®Oh, it seems I am not the only one with surprises.¡¯

    Asphales intoned another invocation. He tried to draw on that reserve he could feel when starlit words were spoken. He tried to reach in and take a drink from that lake of light. Nador¨¬l pulsed with a soft cerulean light. But will it be enough?

    In accord with starlight, Asphales flowed like a river along a well-marked course. Life and breath tasted more precious, more sustaining. It seemed so wrong, so debased, to use this strength to end another. He wished again to find a different way.

    ¡®What is it you hope to achieve?¡¯ Asphales asked after another round of trade-offs.

    Fr¨¬ri?l stopped awhile, looking taken aback. ¡®Freedom,¡¯ she said at last.

    ¡®Then, come with us. What stops you from turning back and taking a different road, Fr¨¬ri?l?

    ¡®No. You are ignorant of the shadow¡¯s power. He is¡­ invincible. No strength of song can hope to help you.¡¯ She dashed in again, Denethris poised. ¡®Or me.¡¯

    Fr¨¬ri?l attacked with renewed vigour, as if Asphales¡¯ words had unsettled her. He struggled to return all her strikes, and more assaults were getting through, gnawing at his breastplate, biting at his resolve. Occasionally, he felt the prick of metal and a wetness slipping down within his armour. He was no match. His light waned.

    As his vision began to blur and the world darkened, Asphales could see that horrible face from his dreams which goaded his failure. He rebelled against its pull.

    I will not falter.

    I will not fall.

    Asphales found himself humming. A weak melody, a vessel barely afloat in the storm. He hoped to keep the song alive and fan the smouldering flame of his starlight.

    Astera endunemai. Nador¨¬l brightened.

    Astera balleis. Nador¨¬l sprang like a wave awakened.

    Blade locked against blade. Fr¨¬ri?l grinned.

    ¡®This is the most fun I¡¯ve had in a while. Thank you, son of starlight. Anardes could have no finer champion.¡¯

    ¡®Anardes¡­ would be better off with you still in it, Fr¨¬ri?l.¡¯

    Fr¨¬ri?l shook her head. ¡®You still do not understand. I am wholly his.¡¯ She pushed. ¡®And so I shall remain unless your light is ended here.¡¯

    Out of her twisted stubbornness, Fr¨¬ri?l lashed out and pressed back against Nador¨¬l¡¯s light. The two repelled off each other, but then launched on to a collision course once more. Even with Asphales¡¯ starlight flaring, Fr¨¬ri?l met him blow for blow, as if every bit of energy radiating off Nador¨¬l was swallowed up by the girl¡¯s sword.

    Asphales bellowed and struck with all the force he could muster, hoping to at least break Fr¨¬ri?l¡¯s defence. Mountain-hard was the answering block, and Denethris seemed unquenchable. The impact flung up rocks and dirt, and whipped Fr¨¬ri?l¡¯s hair about, but she remained unmoved.

    They both breathed hard. They glared at one another. Neither would capitulate, neither would back down. A boy, taken in with stories of heroics and determined to stand against darkness. And a girl, lost perhaps, bearing pain of her own and holding on to her desire before an overwhelming master. How cruel was the turning of fate, that both their hearts carried genuine love yet found themselves pitted against one other. In a different world, they might have clasped hands rather than crossed swords.

    The battle carried on as if in a trance. Asphales was hardly aware of anything beyond their rhythmic movements. Their blades continued striving untired, unabated.

    ¡®Can you do it, Asphales?¡¯ Fr¨¬ri?l¡¯s voice.

    He wouldn¡¯t. Even if he prevailed. Not like this, not playing into the shadow¡¯s hands.

    Be brave. Thalassia¡¯s voice.

    There was a swell within Asphales, like the rising of a chorus. A song not complete, but vibrant and life-giving. A rush of words and music filled him. Far above, a single star shone.

    Asphales held out an empty hand. Fr¨¬ri?l grunted, seeming offended. ¡®I will not join you. I will not! I can never have him this way!¡¯ She rushed forward at the inviting arm. Denethris soared toward him, gluttonous and greedy for the boy¡¯s light.

    Be brave.

    The sword sliced into the back of Asphales¡¯ wrist, tore into his elbow, and lodged itself in his shoulder. Sinews of pain fought against the flood which was feeding him. But the boy held on, and held tight.

    ¡®What are you doing, you silly little boy?¡¯ Fr¨¬ri?l asked. She tried to pull her weapon out.

    Then Asphales raised Nador¨¬l with his spare, unharmed hand. Its glow was pure and right. He imagined holding it with the strength of his father and the support of his mother. Fr¨¬ri?l¡¯s eyes widened.

    The swing came with the might of summer. But Asphales would not do what was expected. He flipped Nador¨¬l¡¯s edge around and struck with the flat side. Like a wind-driven wave, the blow crashed into Fr¨¬ri?l¡¯s body and sent her sailing. She tumbled backward over the grass. Denethris went with her, coming loose and clattering out of her reach.

    Asphales buckled and fell to one knee. As the vigour of his light subsided, his awareness of the blaring wound heightened. He placed his blade down and clutched his shoulder. Fr¨¬ri?l did not get up. She lay sprawled, entangled in her cloak. She was breathing softly, facing the sky, her sanguine hair about her like a crown.

    Was it over?

    ¡®Asphales, sir!¡¯ someone called out from behind him. A company had returned. Asphales was glad to see friendly colours rush by his side.

    ¡®Sir, the end of the battle is nigh,¡¯ one of them announced. ¡®There is but the eastern front left to take. The Order¡¯s members are dead, though some have fled.¡¯ He cheered, and smiles broke out over their tired, dirty faces.

    One of the soldiers hoisted Asphales up. He groaned. ¡®We can take it from here, sir. Well done.¡¯ They looked over the site of his battle with Fr¨¬ri?l. She had not moved.

    Then the wind changed. The air turned stale and warm. Asphales felt his throat drying and he gasped for air. Somehow, he knew it was not simply his fatigue or his wounds causing this. He looked over to Fr¨¬ri?l. The soldiers stopped smiling.

    ¡®Dead?¡¯ she said, in a voice unlike her own. The girl, who did not look like much of a girl any longer, rose. She lurched toward her sword. Denethris returned to her hand, having lost none of its eagerness for blood.

    ¡®Is my Umariel¡­ dead?¡¯

    She turned to face them. It was like peering into the gaze of an inferno.

    ¡®What is¡­ happening?¡¯ said one of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s men.

    Fr¨¬ri?l took a few staggering steps toward them, hunched over and dragging her sword along the ground.

    There was a bright flash and blaze of fire. Yellow-orange wisps sprang to life and licked at the girl¡¯s blade. She held the weapon before her, trailing fire in the air with each motion.

    ¡®IS HE DEAD?¡¯ she screamed, and it was like the sound of a belching furnace. Her hair and cloaked whipped as if driven by some force within her. And brighter than her flaming sword, her eyes now burned and burned and burned.

    Asphales readied his weapon. He did not know what this was. He did not know what to expect. He feared for the safety of the men around him.

    Fr¨¬ri?l took another step. The ground quaked.

    ¡®Stand back, sir. We¡¯ll take care of her,¡¯ said one of the men.

    ¡®No, don¡¯t d¡ª¡¯ Asphales began to say. His weak voice was cut-off by a burst of flame. From behind and beneath and around the girl, fire spewed forth. Great arms of flame sprouted and thrashed about, setting fire to the grass, to the wall, to the men who were nearby.

    Three soldiers howled and ran, dropping their weapons and flailing their arms.

    No. Stop it.

    Fr¨¬ri?l swung Denethris, its length now ablaze. Like a conductor of fire, she seemed to be directing the flame-curtains to do her bidding. Another man fell, screaming and scorched.

    Asphales tried to shield his eyes. Overtaking him was the sensation of burning up, as if he were standing face to face with the sun. The blistering heat threatened to cook him in his helmet. He slipped it off and threw it away. The blast now pecked at his face and hair and he found it difficult to look ahead.

    There was almost nothing left of the small, misguided girl he had fought earlier. Before him was a demon in the blaze.

    Asphales held on to Nador¨¬l and called on all the light he could manage.

    The remorseless heat kept on.

    Astera iatemai, he said to himself. Astera iatemai. The starlight welling within him kept each burn and blister at bay, but the force was unrelenting. The grass and dirt beneath his feet turned to coals.

    Fr¨¬ri?l walked on through shrivelled, burning corpses. At some point, the masked men from earlier had appeared also, driven out by the consuming fire. Heedless of her targets, Fr¨¬ri?l was committing all to the burning stake.

    The shadow of another guard scurried about nearby. ¡®Help me, sir,¡¯ is all he could say before the fire took him. He collapsed, hand out groping for Asphales.

    Stop this.

    ¡®What do I do, father?¡¯ Asphales found himself saying. ¡®How do I face this?¡¯

    The fire rose. Somewhere in the raging hell before him, there was a scared, screaming girl. Her flames threatened to swallow the battlefield. They spilled out over the encampment wall, and across onto the path leading into the Order¡¯s battlements. Soon, there would be no eastern front left to advance upon. Asphales knew he had to end her rampage. And his heart sank, for he knew he could not do it without¡­

    Astera endunemai. Asphales held Nador¨¬l before him. Its green glow was a beacon in the red. He stepped into the heat, following the sound of Fr¨¬ri?l¡¯s voice.

    ¡®Fr¨¬ri?l?¡¯ he called.

    ¡®NO. DO NOT SAY MY NAME. HE IS DEAD.¡¯

    Asphales did not know what she meant, could not understand any of what was happening. But he needed to act. On he walked in search of one he did not comprehend and could only hope to stop.

    He stepped on ash. Curlicues of smoke rose up around him. Nador¨¬l¡¯s light and wind provided some relief in the blaze, but Asphales realised he could not keep this up for long.

    Be brave.

    Then she was there. In her hands, Denethris was a firebrand. And she¡­ she was a princess wreathed in flame. Cloaked in splendid, burning garment. Hair of living fire blew behind her. Eyes like graceful embers locked on to him. She opened her mouth but there was no longer any voice. The crackling of fire about her was her scream and her scream was all there was.

    ¡®Fr¨¬ri?l! Stop this!¡¯ Asphales could feel his shoulders start to burn and his wound from earlier found new ways to remind him of his pain. He held on to Nador¨¬l even more tightly.

    She stepped toward him. There was no recognition, no semblance of conscience. There was only fire. He screamed. He cried. He pleaded. But the fire would not listen. It would not stop.

    Be brave.

    Asphales ran at her. ¡®I¡¯m so sorry, Fr¨¬ri?l.¡¯

    He raised the blade, the heaviest it had ever been. Reluctant, saddened, howling, cursing. He pushed against the resistance in his heart and swung through the flames.

    Nador¨¬l found something living in the fire and severed it with a sharp, all-too-cruel light. Flame sizzled under the weight of the ocean.

    Something gave. Something caved. Something halted.

    The curtains of flame fell away, and Asphales could see the sky again. Everything around him was grey and charred.

    And he could see Fr¨¬ri?l. She was a girl again, her face returned to its youthfulness, her eyes as innocent as they had been. The fire had died away. Denethris lay on the ground, still.

    Fr¨¬ri?l was standing. She turned to face Asphales. He could tell she was bleeding, and would not last long.

    She stepped out toward him. ¡®Mama tried to hide me,¡¯ she said weakly. ¡®But no, I was raised knowing I was to die.¡¯

    Asphales huffed. He dropped his own sword.

    Fr¨¬ri?l stumbled forward. Asphales retreated, listless. He felt burdened by all the world¡¯s weight.

    ¡®Son of starlight¡­ you and all you hold dear¡­ will die¡­ just as within me¡­ all is dead.¡¯

    Asphales fell to the ground, exhausted. There was nowhere left to go. Nothing left to do.

    Fr¨¬ri?l collapsed, too, and dragged herself toward him. ¡®No¡­ not quite everything¡­ there is you¡­ You always¡­¡¯ She approached, and lay on top of him, nesting her head on his chest. Her eyes were distant and glassy. The faint smell and warmth of fire was fading.

    ¡®Always you¡­ You promised¡­¡¯ She took a breath. ¡®Say my name.¡¯ Her voice was a dying flame in winter. ¡®Say that silly name you have for me.¡¯

    Then the quiet came and Asphales knew that she was dead. Helpless, he began to sob.

    Over the sound of his quiet tears, a clarion rang out.

 Chapter Twenty-nine - Grief Unending

    A lone shaft of moonlight slipped the cruel mountain¡¯s embrace and splashed onto a forgotten woman¡¯s face. She lay on a slab of stone, cold and callous as a sacrificial altar, that had been her home forever and would be hers forevermore. The woman lapped her meagre light, drank deep of it and quenched her dreams. In its blinding colours, she could see.

    Midnight was alone.

    Everything she had attempted to weave had unravelled, and now memory and meaning hung like useless loops of thread entangling about themselves.

    Each day, she could hear Hops waddling in with a morsel for her. Th¨¬r would follow shortly with a smile and a story. And just as she was on the cusp of tasting their voices and savouring their faces, she blinked and their images were gone.

    All that was left was the aching of her bones, the yearning of her unquiet heart, and the silence of what remained untold, unspoken.

    And whenever she came close to believing that things had always been this way, whenever she was on the verge of forgetting, Midnight touched a finger to her lips. The scar, the perpetual crescent moon etched there, reminded her that it was not so. She was more than her nameless pain. This was her flicker of fire cursing the loathsome dark. Buried, but never allowed to rot.

    As days passed changelessly, murmurs coursed among the Heartless. In the shadows, she heard them. Word came that Shurun¡¯el was not coming back. A man named Darius had killed him in battle.

    Midnight kept this Darius in mind through the long nights and longer days. She dreamt of him and imagined his face. She wished that wherever he was, he could know her gratitude for the sliver of brightness he had brought into her endless, endless dark.

    If she could, she would whisper his name and break the mountain¡¯s bonds.

    If she could, she would speak his name and see the terror settling into the eyes of the Heartless.

    If she could, she would shout his name into the echoing caves and watch them all collapse.

    If she could, she would hear him say her name in return and dance away together with him.

    But there in her cage she remains for now, shedding hope and warmth of dreams, and each night she returns to her lonely, lovely beam of moonlight.

    * * *

    Asphales found himself under the gaze of a day with no sun. Grey mist over water stretched in every direction. He walked on in a shallow ocean with weightless steps, not quite feeling the wetness at his feet and without truly knowing where he was headed.

    It was too quiet. He knew somehow there was a song no longer sung. The last strands of flame which had once belonged to someone faded and passed over beyond the veil. Asphales looked at his hands and squeezed them. He could not hold on to that which was fast vanishing.

    The ocean began to retreat.

    A wave of seething water and foaming dark surrounded him and came towards him. From the horizon it built up, steadily drawing all into itself and hurtling its mass ever onward. A hurricane of dragon¡¯s wings hurried it along, directed it toward Asphales.

    Then out of the shallows a figure rose up in front of Asphales, shadowy and immaterial but with a core of living, livid substance.

    This is what awaits you. This is what shall come.

    The rumbling of the crashing wave grew.

    Asphales summoned his sword. It seemed the only material item in this place. He felt its weight through the languid layers of the dream. The blade was alight and pushed back the dark. The spectral figure shrank back.

    ¡®You will no longer take me,¡¯ Asphales said, and his voice was massive. ¡®You will no longer taint us.¡¯

    Nador¨¬l emanated a glow which sent the figure cowering and pierced the curtains of water poised to swallow Asphales. And before the white explosion, the thing in the water spoke once more.

    It is already done.

    When Asphales woke truly, the heaviness of the real world was laid upon him. Bruises and burns rudely made themselves known and there was an overwhelming stiffness seizing him. His bones felt like the dried-out shell of a ruin, full of ache and ready to crumble. Even the remnants of the grass he laid on were sharp and stabbed him incessantly to remind him where he was and what he had done.

    Asphales had taken another life.

    ¡®You¡¯re awake, sir,¡¯ someone nearby called out. A soldier rushed over to him and helped him sit up. Others were walking about, and hailed to one other when they noticed his awakening. Not far from them, another group of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s men were hoisting Guldar out of the ditch. The sub-commander looked battered, but alive.

    The sky came into focus. Grey like his dreams. Featureless and drab. Then he realised no one was cradled in his arms anymore.

    ¡®Where is she?¡¯ Asphales asked blandly.

    ¡®The girl? She was dead, sir. We took her body with the others before you woke. Forgive me, sir, it¡¯s not good to speak of the dead in wartime. Regulus be blessed, though, we are glad to see you alive. We weren¡¯t sure what was happening, as you had been still as a stone for ages and then just a minute ago started spasming something mad.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m alright,¡¯ Asphales. ¡®Thank you. What¡¯s happened?¡¯

    ¡®We¡¯ve won,¡¯ he said, but his tone was not victorious. Asphales looked at him and the soldier¡¯s eyes seemed barely to hang on. ¡®We¡¯ve won,¡¯ he said again.

    Asphales tried to stand, and had to fall back on the other man¡¯s support until his legs got used to the effort. His left arm shot fresh pain through him.

    ¡®Take it easy, sir. Here you go.¡¯ Something familiar settled into his palms. Asphales looked down and saw Nador¨¬l¡¯s shape in his hands.

    ¡®Where is Lady Ad¨¦lia?¡¯

    ¡®She is securing the barracks by the fortress, I believe. Would you like me to take you to her?¡¯

    ¡®Thank you. I can manage it.¡¯ And off he went, limping across the burned-out yard which had been his battlefield toward the fortress. The smoke had mostly cleared. The extent of the damage done to body and infrastructure was evident. Asphales tried not to focus on it. He tried not to think of Fr¨¬ri?l¡¯s body, unceremoniously burned along with the other unfortunate ones. She had been lost and lonely, and Asphales had killed her.

    Around the place, small groups of soldiers were patrolling, looking through seemingly abandoned buildings, checking for the wounded, and salvaging what could still be used. Some were rounding up bands of the Order¡¯s survivors who had surrendered. He hoped that the Empire¡¯s reputation for mercy would not fail in this moment.

    From the path to the barracks, the valley spread out before him. There were mounds of dead, dozens of wounded, and the odd stranded figure milling around lethargically. Tattered banners fluttered weakly in the wind. What did their victory mean? What did the symbol of the Lion hold? He walked on. There was no joy in the songs of robins and the colours of windswept azaleas by the fortress¡¯ base.

    Feeling returned slowly, both in body and mind. His thoughts felt viscous but his eyes wandered, looking for those he recognised.

    Where was Valinos?

    Had he¡ª He could not bring himself to finish the suggestion.

    As he passed other survivors, they raised their arms and saluted or signalled starlight¡¯s guidance. The gestures seemed hollow, insincere mimicry done only to cope with the incomprehensible. Asphales did not acknowledge them.

    When he finally reached the barracks, a shabby imitation of the longhouse back at Fara¡¯ethar, it did not take long to find Ad¨¦lia. She was sitting idle and unfocused, not at the barracks proper, but by the threshold of another smaller, adjacent building. She spotted him approaching and stood up. The Amarant was covered in blood.

    Asphales quickened his pace.

    ¡®Asphales,¡¯ she said. ¡®I am glad you are alive.¡¯

    ¡®Ad¨¦lia! Likewise. Are you wounded? You¡¯re¡­¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t worry,¡¯ she said, and she hung her head. ¡®It¡¯s not mine.¡¯

    ¡®I don¡¯t¡­ understand.¡¯

    Ad¨¦lia did not elaborate. It was then that he noticed something odd about her. Among her rich, scarlet curls, a single lock was changed. It was ashen white like a withered, snow-capped tree in a forest bright with auburn fire.

    Asphales looked to the doorway, the darkness beyond it haunting and ominous. ¡®What¡¯s in there?¡¯

    ¡®Asphales¡­ don¡¯t. It is better that you do not see.¡¯

    Ignoring her plea, Asphales entered the shack. After his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he followed the stench and trail of blood to a back chamber. And what he saw in there made him wish he had heeded the Amarant¡¯s warning. He rushed out, sickened, and vomited by the wall outside. He leaned against it, retching and choking.

    ¡®That¡­ was Umariel,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said after Asphales had regained his breath. ¡®One of the pirates who attacked my home.¡¯

    Asphales breathed heavily. ¡®U-¡­Umariel?¡¯ Fire. Screams. ¡®Umariel?¡¯ A lost girl¡¯s rage. Asphales felt tears welling in his eyes. ¡®I killed her¡­¡¯ he said. ¡®I killed her, and you¡­¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry, Asphales. This is what we are called to sometimes.¡¯

    Asphales flinched. There is a difference between war and battle, he recalled reading in the book on military tactics. One is a vile business, the other a noble necessity.

    ¡®There was nothing noble about what we did here,¡¯ Asphales said. And Asphales felt it had been the truest thing he had ever spoken. For there was nothing noble about a mutilated carcass and the loss of a young life.

    Ad¨¦lia finally looked at him. Her eyes were muted, dim. ¡®I know, Asphales. But it had to be done. And Darius¡ª¡¯

    ¡®What Darius did was wrong!¡¯ Asphales bellowed. He had not meant to. But his shout cut her off and echoed through the walls of the fortress. In that moment, he did not care if the Kerenani Amarant himself had heard him.

    Ad¨¦lia said nothing further. Asphales slunk against the walls and cried.

    Father, I do not want this burden.

    Minutes later, he collected himself. Ad¨¦lia had not moved. ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ he said through a sniffle. ¡®I did not intend¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡¯

    ¡®Think no further on it,¡¯ said Ad¨¦lia. ¡®I am culpable for this. I, too, am sorry that I have put you through this. You deserve far better, Asphales.¡¯

    Her hand was outstretched. Asphales took it. For the briefest moment, there was a connection, a rightness as if all the stars were in their proper place. Then it was gone, swallowed by the sorrow all around and within.

    ¡®Let¡¯s find our friends,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia said.

    The walk through the fallen was not a pleasant one. In the aftermath of the battle, bodies were gathered in burning heaps, but signs of scattered carnage remained. Asphales and Ad¨¦lia passed by many who had been comrades, who had shared drink and song. Occasionally, the Amarant stopped to check on the survivors sitting about blankly. What assurance could she give them, what justification? Nonetheless, they seemed encouraged by her presence, some light and colour returning to their eyes when they beheld her.

    But they stumbled then onto a scene that no words could mend. A group of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s men were gathered about, heads bowed in sadness or respect. El¡¯enur was among them. His armour was shredded, revealing large swathes of bloody flesh. But something about this moment lent him strength to stand and watch on. When he noticed Asphales, relief washed over his widened eyes and he stepped over to embrace him.

    ¡®Asphales, you lived,¡¯ he said as his arms closed in around him.

    ¡®You too. Barely, it seems.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s the Order for you. Have you seen Valinos?¡¯

    The question fell with dread. ¡®No, I came here looking for him.¡¯

    ¡®Sorry,¡¯ said El¡¯enur as he pulled back. ¡®He¡¯s not here. Maybe with Darius?¡¯

    ¡®I hope so.¡¯

    Then Ad¨¦lia burst through the line of onlookers and dropped to her knees by a figure on the ground. Ishak was there, laid down in a pool of blood. His eyes barely lucid, he looked around blearily. Telen was kneeling by his side, holding the sub-commander¡¯s arm. The young soldier seemed injured himself, but was holding on to carry out this kindness.

    Asphales glanced at El¡¯enur. The archer merely shook his head.

    ¡®Ishak,¡¯ Ad¨¦lia cried. ¡®I¡¯m here.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry, my lady,¡¯ Telen said. ¡®I could not protect him.¡¯

    Ishak¡¯s eyes found the two kneeling by his side. A smile appeared on his blood-encrusted face.

    ¡®Grieve not,¡¯ he wheezed. ¡®This is right. It is as I told you. The old should give their lives for the young, not the other way around. Telen¡­ your bravery commends you. And my lady¡­ my lady¡­ you are fair in battle, in beauty, in spirit¡­ Rise, Ad¨¦lia.¡¯

    Then Ishak Rynell breathed his last. A smile was still stretched upon his lips. Ishak looked at peace. Not even death disturbed his impeccable, trim appearance.

    A wail went up. As those gathered commended his soul to skies beyond, Telen positioned Ishak¡¯s spear in the warrior¡¯s hands and shut his eyes. Ishak was still, nevermore to laugh and jest, nevermore to love and fight.

    Asphales could bear to watch no longer. He stepped back. But everywhere he looked, soldiers were mourning friends, holding them close as they crossed the veil. This was the reality as the Dragon¡¯s Eye closed.

    There were no winners after that battle. There were those who had lost, and those who had died.

    * * *

    The power Valinos had drunk from seemed a fading dream.  In its place were left the aches and questions that no wind could drive away. He hobbled along the fortress¡¯ courtyard now with Darius under his arm. Even seeing him injured, Valinos refused to believe the Amarant¡¯s constitution was anything other than unbreakable, and had, in truth, expected their situation reversed. But it was he who had found a collapsed Darius on the rooftop of the fortress¡¯ other tower and he who now supported the Amarant as they made their way toward survivors and assessed their victory.

    ¡®What happened up there?¡¯ Darius asked.

    Valinos counted a few uneven steps along the cobblestone before he answered. ¡®Answers just out of my grasp. Mockery. So, nothing out of the ordinary.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s not what I saw.¡¯

    ¡®Then you were mistaken.¡¯

    Darius grunted. ¡®What was that you said about damning secrecy?¡¯

    ¡®I believe that in my case, I wished to remain mysterious a while longer.¡¯

    ¡®Have it your way.¡¯ Darius did not press the matter further, evidently far too exhausted for a lecture. No more conversation came from either of them and none was to be found in the rusting courtyard statues.

    With a neigh, Mas¨¬lminur rolled in over a rise, galloping toward his master as if the beast had sensed him. The horse came up to Darius and nuzzled him gently, bidding him to mount.

    ¡®Thank you, Mas¨¬,¡¯ Darius said. ¡®I¡¯m fine. And I¡¯m sure you were gallant.¡¯ With Valinos¡¯ help, the Amarant hopped on to his mount. He turned to Valinos and thanked him, before making off for what remained of Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s camps.

    Valinos continued pacing the remnants of the battlefield. Though he had sustained only negligible injuries compared to the others¡ªand indeed considered himself lucky to be alive¡ªthe battle still left him drained, and his blades dragged.

    The question persisted, churning like stubborn, inclement weather that would not let up.

    What am I?

    ¡®Valinos!¡¯ A voice was calling his name.

    ¡®Valinos!¡¯ He knew its cadence, soft and summer-sweet.

    From between the mounds of fallen bodies and equipment sprinkled about like little mountain ranges, Asphales appeared. The last breaths of colourless smoke grasped at his friend¡¯s crimson cloak. His left arm was in a sling and his hair matted with sweat and blood, but for all this, Asphales seemed radiant. If Valinos had believed in hero stories, perhaps he would have admitted then this is what they were supposed to look like.

    But as it was, more pertinent matters impressed themselves upon him. Like how a fisherman and an armorer, called to handle things beyond their imagination or desire, were now connected by battle. Like how both of them had discovered more about themselves than they thought was possible. Valinos wondered now how Asphales had felt on the day his heritage and nature were revealed.

    The two friends met amidst that grey, grieving battlefield and clasped hands.

    ¡®Am I ever glad to see you, Valinos,¡¯ said Asphales and leaned in for a hug, as well as he could manage, considering his bandaged arm.

    ¡®Likewise,¡¯ Valinos said, mindful of his friend¡¯s wounds.

    As they embraced, Rubi?l¡¯s words hung over him like a cloud.

    You are the key to the Dragonking¡¯s return.

    He feared what that would mean for Asphales¡¯ quest. He feared what it would mean for himself.

    Asphales pulled away and looked at him with his keen, jasper eyes. ¡®So, what happened to you?¡¯

    Valinos¡¯ glance fell away. ¡®I¡¯ll¡­ tell you later.¡¯

    Asphales nodded. ¡®Alright. I am ready to go back.¡¯

    In the end, going back to Fara¡¯ethar had to wait another day. The Imperial army accounted for their losses and camped out the night at the Dragon¡¯s Eye while a few divisions secured and occupied the fortress. Requisite provisions and shelter were appropriated from the Order¡¯s resources within the stronghold. It seemed to Valinos that the Empire would attempt to retain at least a small foothold in this area and not cede the ground gained within the Order¡¯s territory.

    The Order¡¯s survivors were treated well enough, but attempts to squeeze further information out of them proved futile, as they were loath to speak of their former employment. They were kept under watch, but granted food, rest, and company. They, along with the Empire¡¯s soldiers, kept close to the fire as the cold night passed.

    At dawn, the only songs came from eager carrion crows. Darius and Ad¨¦lia selected the men who would stay behind to guard the fortress while the others returned. The preparations were brisk and joyless. A messenger was sent home before the rest began their slow march so a supply caravan could be mustered to meet them partway through the trip. A thousand soldiers had set out for the Dragon¡¯s Eye a mere two tides before. Now, at the start of the month of Kenthis, three hundred were on their way back.

    The journey home was hampered by sharp winds at first, but every step put between them and the Eye lightened moods for all. For all, that is, except Valinos, whose mind never renounced the frustration and humiliation he had faced, even when the companies entered warmer climates away from the mountains. There was little talk, but Asphales insisted on asking about what Valinos had seen on his way to the Dragon¡¯s Eye. Valinos took some comfort from the fact that this route was at least more comfortable, and shared the events that had befallen himself and the Amarant.

    But he said nothing of what occurred on the fortress peak, nothing of what he had become up there.

    Fickle weather hindered any memorable activity for the rest of the return journey and made the days bleed into one another like mixed paints. When light finally broke through the overcast skies, Fara¡¯ethar came into view at the end of now-familiar plains. Weary of feet and heavy in spirit, the soldiers sighed in relief when they spotted the castle. And yet, for Valinos, it did not feel like coming home.

    It was sometime in the middle of Kenthis when Valinos braved a trip to Birdswatch. The army had returned a couple of days earlier but he had not made his arrival known to Fen¡¯asel. In fact, even his departure was kept a secret from her in order to establish the veracity of Darius¡¯ defection. And now he had to face her. It was madness.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Valinos hesitated on the bridge spanning the chasm between castle grounds, his hand on the latch to Birdwatch¡¯s gate. He plucked up courage, and pushed through.

    His heart seemed to be beating in his throat as he made his way up the creaky tower steps. Something about this made the walk more terrifying than any encounter with the Order. But eventually, he stepped through to the platform flooded with afternoon light. Fara¡¯ethar may not have been home, but the smells and sounds and sights of Birdswatch told him this was perhaps the closest thing to it.

    And she was there.

    She was crowned by dark blonde hair and garbed in gentle green and red like a sprig of holly. She twirled to face him when he entered and the wind danced along the flowing hem of her dress.

    ¡®Valinos¡­?¡¯ Distress and delight were in her startled voice. She dropped the bundle of food she was holding. The eagle she had been feeding squawked in complaint.

    ¡®Fen¡¯asel,¡¯ said Valinos as he dared to step closer. ¡®I¡¯m¡­¡¯

    Before he could commence his apology, Fen¡¯asel bounded to him. She slapped him, and then embraced him. Valinos stood stunned as Fen¡¯asel wrapped her arms around him. Her hair smelled of pinecones and honey.

    ¡®I am so glad to see you,¡¯ she said, ¡®and I am so angry at you!¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry, Fen. The plan happened so quickly, and I could not have told you even if I¡¯d had the chance.¡¯

    She pulled away and stared him down. ¡®Don¡¯t. Don¡¯t try to excuse what you did. But I will accept your apology.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ he said again.

    Fen¡¯asel looked ready to laugh, and cry. ¡®I was truly ready to hate him.¡¯

    ¡®Who?¡¯

    ¡®Darius. For taking you away. People were saying he¡¯d gone mad and stolen someone away from the castle. And then you didn¡¯t show up anymore¡­¡¯ She slapped him once more. ¡®Don¡¯t do that to me again.¡¯

    Valinos brought her close. ¡®I can hardly imagine you bearing hatred, Fen.¡¯

    She laughed into his chest. ¡®Don¡¯t think a few nice words are going to make me forget this easily!¡¯

    ¡®I know.¡¯

    Something about the tone of his voice made her pull back and look at him seriously. ¡®What¡¯s wrong, Valinos?¡¯

    Valinos sighed and moved away, toward the edge of the platform. He sat down, legs dangling over the sheer drop, and leaned on the railing. ¡®I am¡­ not what I thought I was, Fen.¡¯

    ¡®What do you mean?¡¯

    ¡®I haven¡¯t spoken of this to anyone else yet. But when I was at the Dragon¡¯s Eye, something happened to me. Something awakened.¡¯ He looked at his hands and to the land falling away beyond them. ¡®I don¡¯t know what I am.¡¯

    ¡®Have you not even told Asphales?¡¯ she asked.

    ¡®No. Not yet. I will, I think.¡¯

    ¡®You better!¡¯ She stepped over and lowered herself to her knees next to him. ¡®He¡¯s your closest friend. You can help each other. But thank you for telling me. And for what it¡¯s worth, no matter what you may be, I know what you are to me.¡¯

    She laid a hand on his arm for a moment, and then sat up suddenly, pulling Valinos to his feet as well.

    ¡®I know what will make you feel better, Val. Come! Up you get!¡¯

    Valinos had grown accustomed to being dragged away by this woman into something adventurous, so he complied, even with the struggling thoughts still raging on. She took him over to the cradle where Nag¨¬n waited, somewhat impatiently.

    ¡®Oh! I forgot!¡¯ said Fen¡¯asel, and quickly collected the foodstuffs she had dropped to resume feeding the eagle.

    Valinos chuckled. Fen¡¯asel¡¯s light-heartedness was infectious.

    ¡®I have a message here for the contingent left behind at the Dragon¡¯s Eye,¡¯ she said as she fed the creature. ¡®I¡¯ve been granted permission by father to send this one out.¡¯ She could hardly contain the excitement in her voice. ¡®But I want you to get it ready for delivery. Over on your left is a handler¡¯s glove. Go ahead and put it on.¡¯

    Valinos rummaged through some items on a crate and found a lengthy leather glove laced with metal rings. He picked it up and tested it on his right forearm. He pulled the straps through the steel loops and affixed it so the thicker material faced the top.

    ¡®Good!¡¯ Fen¡¯asel said as she turned to him after finishing up with the eagle. ¡®Here you go.¡¯ She produced a small, clay tube which had a rolled-up scroll within it. ¡®Get ready.¡¯

    Valinos braced himself and put his right arm into position as Fen¡¯asel opened the brown eagle¡¯s cage. She whistled. ¡®Nag¨¬n! To Valinos.¡¯ The creature launched out of its cage and flew toward him on command. Valinos jumped back, but the eagle only latched onto the glove and stared at him.

    Fen¡¯asel laughed. ¡®Now, give him the message.¡¯

    Valinos brought up the tube and hooked it on to a small contraption tied to the eagle¡¯s wiry legs. Nag¨¬n did not object during the procedure.

    ¡®Well done. Now, bring him to the edge of the platform and set him off.¡¯

    Valinos did so. Once he had reached the end of the platform, he extended his right arm. Nag¨¬n launched off immediately. Within moments, he was high in the air and he let out a caw which echoed to the distant trees.

    As he watched the eagle soar into the sky, the clouds parted like curtains unfolding for the next act. The Sundered hung there between those curtains, beckoning. Look to the sky.

    ¡®The only thing left to do now,¡¯ Fen¡¯asel said, voice turning official, ¡®is to record this in the ledger.¡¯

    * * *

    Morning¡¯s first rays fell upon rows of lilacs, lilies, and lavenders. As colour washed over the world, the gardens of Fara¡¯ethar matched the sunrise with their own brilliance. Fragility encircled by a fortress. And here, tending to the flowers as they tended to her grief, Ad¨¦lia walked among the colours.

    Once again, the dove had gone to war and returned. Why was it that she lived on when others did not? Why was it that her life continued, and not that of Ro?thia, or Ishak? She thought of the old Amarant¡¯s fierce and loyal face, and of Ishak¡¯s kind and fatherly composure, as their names passed her lips and her fingers traced a path through smooth and sleepless petals. She hoped their light burned bright now in the World Departed.

    And here, Ad¨¦lia remained. What was different? Even without spear in hand and dressed in a simple grass-green gown, the same heartache shuddered through her, the same questioning in the wake of a bitter fight. Those around her insisted that she rise, whereas she felt she could only sink and fall deeper into her darkness. No guidance was given by the starlight promised in ballads sung by the dead. Even with her attention occupied by the reparations needing to be made after the battle, and the relief needing to be offered to the hurting, matters seemed to be the same. Ad¨¦lia was still all too aware of having to stand under her own waning strength.

    A cascade of light spilled over the castle wall. Ad¨¦lia shielded her eyes, touching a hand to her whitened lock of hair.

    No, perhaps some things had indeed changed. Beneath the horror of what she had done to Umariel, Ad¨¦lia sensed a quiet settling, like something had finally been laid to rest. And beyond it, a hatred that had been dormant was stirred by the assassin¡¯s confession. She had once stood in this garden, aimless and confused as an uprooted tree. No longer. She would rise. For her hatred now had a name.

    Despreaux.

    Perhaps that was guidance enough.

    * * *

    Darius sat in the Commons as a man without rank or title, among others who were likewise numbing their sorrow with drink and pondering the questionable fortune of survival in the ruins. All around him, commiserations were shared as mugs of ale filled, emptied, and filled again. The air was different. Darius could sense it settled in the creaking rafters, laid heavy upon the brows of those who, on this night, swigged mead not for pleasure but for cold and pungent comfort.

    The former Amarant retreated to his own small table in an unlit corner of the tavern. Even though he was no longer their commander, many of the other men seemed wary of him still and kept a reverent distance. Confused reports circulating over events leading up to the Dragon¡¯s Eye and his own lingering reputation as a ruthless Kerenani surely contributed to this. Darius was fine with that, if it meant moments of uninterrupted bliss.

    He rubbed at his shoulder between mouthfuls of ale. There was a dull, persistent ache beneath his bandages, the last vestiges of a gift granted by the Order¡¯s own blade. If not for the ministrations of the field medics at the Eye, and further attention on his return to the castle, Darius figured he would have died. That woman, Sanah, had intended to kill. Another enemy added to the list of whose who wished to eliminate him, another name to be devoured by the fire. For Shurun¡¯el had been only the beginning.

    But now, having been officially stripped of Amarantship, there were more important, more honourable, matters to consider. Although his legacy might be tarnished by deeds many would question, the future was in good hands. There was confidence, at least, that those who would pick up his mantle would do better.

    Yes, of that he was sure.

    A tankard clacked across from him and someone shuffled into a seat. For a moment, Darius thought it was Filarin and he was ready to growl at the persistent master of banquet. But it was not him. It was Leara.

    ¡®You¡¯re making yourself scarce these days, Darius.¡¯ Her jade eyes, lively as spring in bloom, were trained on him. Darius was glad to see her blisters and bruises were fading.

    ¡®Good evening, Lady Arandel,¡¯ he said.

    She scoffed. ¡®You still sound so formal.¡¯

    ¡®Old habits, though you now outrank me, so the respect is all the more appropriate.¡¯

    ¡®The way I see it, respect is in loyalty and in the ability to smash heads together. You¡¯ve shown both, so you get to call me by my name, damn it.¡¯

    Darius smiled through a sip of mead.

    Leara signalled to a nearby attendant and grabbed a goblet off a serving tray. Darius did not mind the interruption, but he was all too aware that Leara saw more in him, perhaps too much.

    She leaned in. Her raven curls were wild and free again. ¡®So, you¡¯re not changing your mind? You¡¯re keeping clear of leadership for good?¡¯

    Darius nodded.

    ¡®Pity. I still think you did the right thing. But I think you¡¯re doing the right thing again, giving those two a chance. You¡¯ve got a mind for the future.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you. I do.¡¯

    ¡®Speaking of¡­¡¯ she began, fingering the edges of her cup.

    ¡®Leara, I know what it is you want,¡¯ Darius said carefully.

    ¡®Do you?¡¯ She sat back.

    ¡®And I¡¯m sorry, but I don¡¯t think I could ever give you what you¡¯re after.¡¯

    Leara sighed, resigned but perhaps also relieved. ¡®I know. I needed to hear it. And I wanted to say that I¡¯m done pining. I¡¯ve been like a little girl waiting for the eagle to pick her up and take her to the sky. But a girl could shrivel up in wait¡­¡¯

    ¡®You deserve better.¡¯ Someone who could truly care, someone who won¡¯t burn you.

    ¡®Listen to yourself,¡¯ Leara said. ¡®You¡¯re still a damn good friend, Darius. Don¡¯t drive yourself so hard.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you for your honesty, Leara. I think you¡¯re doing the right thing, too.¡¯

    ¡®Alright. Well, like I said, you¡¯re not getting rid of me so easily. I¡¯ll be around. You just let me know what you need.¡¯

    ¡®Right now, I need a drinking partner.¡¯

    Leara smiled and raised her goblet. ¡®To life. To the Empire.¡¯

    Darius accepted her toast and then downed the remainder of his mug.

    ¡®Here comes trouble,¡¯ Leara said, craning her neck toward the entrance. At the door, Amarant Nadros walked in. He wore his finest navy-blue jacket on this night, with crisp and clean golden linings all the way to the cuffs. Atop his head was a plumed hat, jet black in colour, which Darius had rarely seen him wear. The sea captain spotted them and made his way over. He seemed to have become accustomed to the irregular pattern of his walk. He ambled over to their table, brows furrowed and arms folded.

    ¡®Good evening, Amarant Nadros,¡¯ said Darius.

    ¡®Join us,¡¯ Leara said.

    ¡®Where¡¯s Guldar?¡¯ Nadros asked.

    ¡®Probably at home putting on his best,¡¯ Leara said. ¡®El¡¯enur, too. I see you spared no expense doing the same.¡¯

    ¡®It¡¯s what you two should be doing as well.¡¯

    ¡®Indeed. After one more round, and perhaps a stint of cards as well?¡¯ Leara whisked a set from her tunic.

    Nadros looked at Darius. ¡®My dear man, are you sure this is not Guldar in a wig?¡¯

    ¡®You would know,¡¯ is all Darius said.

    Leara burst into laughter, prompting a smile from Darius. Nadros himself joined in the jest and sat down. ¡®Alright, yer scupperin¡¯ lubs,¡¯ he huffed. ¡®One round. The night is younger than I.¡¯

    It was more than one round later when the urgency of a rising moon finally drove them out of Commons. Leara rushed off with the old Amarant, leaving Darius to make his way to the Hall of Residence and prepare himself for the ceremony.

    As he dressed, he watched his reflection in the mirror with unease. Clothing that seemed too fine for a warrior did not suit him. He almost felt alarmed without a weapon in reach or hidden in a belt, and the scars clashed with the velvet finery he now put on. It reminded him too much of a life he could never earn.

    Darius would give his blessings to his successors. Supporting them in their endeavours was foremost. But he had a mind for a future beyond that. Valinos had asked him about settling down. No, men like Darius were not afforded such niceties. His flame would drag him down to a bitter end in spent and scattered ashes.

    Of that he was also sure.

    Yet here, he was thankful for the fellowship, for those who made the journey worthwhile.

    * * *

    On the eve of his promotion, El¡¯enur idled on an overturned barrel planted in the sand of the Barracks¡¯ waterfront. An aggressive wind drove a cadre of formless clouds across the keen gaze of a golden moon. It bit through the archer¡¯s fancy burgundy-washed doublet.

    But the cold was not his worry. El¡¯enur¡¯s hands were rubbing at his face, as if he could massage out the apprehension and the doubt. Before his eyes, faint and fading images played out. A young El¡¯enur, clumsily handling real weapons for the first time on this very beach. An older brother, looking on and laughing at the untried youth¡¯s awkward but passionate attempts.

    A beautiful woman with black and blue hair, standing before him with compassion in her eyes. It took a moment for El¡¯enur to realise this last image was real. How long had Nelesa been standing there? She had her hands folded before her, in that same reserved and formal posture. Her long, ruby dress was radiant even in the moonlight and her shoulders were covered with a shawl of dark fur.

    She spoke first. ¡®I¡¯m here for your big night, El¡¯enur, but something tells me this isn¡¯t where we ought to be.¡¯

    El¡¯enur raised his head and gave a weak, thin-lipped smile. ¡®How did you know to find me here?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯ve got a better question. How did you get out of the Hall of Recovery so quickly? You looked awful after the battle.¡¯

    ¡®Well, you know my flattering tongue.¡¯

    ¡®The tongue that so oft lands you into trouble?¡¯

    The archer shrugged his shoulders. Nelesa smiled.

    ¡®I am glad to see you¡¯re feeling better, regardless,¡¯ she said.

    ¡®You too. I¡­ I was worried.¡¯ Nelesa raised an eyebrow. ¡®Not because of your ability,¡¯ El¡¯enur added quickly, stammering. ¡®Nothing like that¡­ just¡­ I really hoped you¡¯d be safe. And I¡¯m glad you are.¡¯

    Nelesa stepped over to him and put up a hand to silence his foolish blabbering. ¡®El, I¡¯m fine,¡¯ she said, beaming. ¡®Now, what¡¯s the matter?¡¯

    El¡¯enur¡¯s face sunk further into his hands. ¡®He¡¯s named me successor to Amarantship,¡¯ he said, as if voicing it would summon some confidence and bury his shortcomings. That damned Darius. Why did he have to trust him so much? Why did he expect so much?

    ¡®Yes, and you¡¯ve accepted, right?¡¯

    ¡®I have, but I¡¯m still unsure. I don¡¯t want to do it out of pride, and I don¡¯t even know if I deserve it. I can¡¯t say I¡¯m right for it.¡¯

    ¡®El¡¯enur,¡¯ she said seriously. ¡®You may be a lot of things: arrogant, rash, inelegant, tactless¡­¡¯

    ¡®Thank you?¡¯ he interrupted.

    ¡®¡­but I know your heart. You¡¯re the most determined and courageous man I know. That¡¯s why I¡­ I earnestly wish you the best, El. You can do this.¡¯

    The archer stood up. ¡®The truth is¡­ it¡¯s always been you behind all that. You make me want to be better. Nelesa, you¡¯re remarkable, you always have been. And I would be a fool not to¡ª¡¯

    ¡®El,¡¯ she said suddenly. Her obsidian eyes were filled with mingled longing and reticence. ¡®The time is not right for that. We need to get over this, first. We need to grieve, to move on.¡¯

    El¡¯enur swallowed hard. ¡®You¡¯re right. I¡¯m sorry.¡¯

    A silence descended, in which the gentle lapping of the waves was loud and boisterous. His thoughts were as unformed and fragile as the foam of the sea.

    When El¡¯enur¡¯s face sank, Nelesa placed a hand on his shoulder. Her touch startled him and he looked at her again. ¡®Besides,¡¯ she said, ¡®I will be busier as well. Guldar has offered me his former position after he takes on his new role.¡¯ She pulled back briskly and waved her hands in frantic circles. ¡®N-not that I can be too excited about it, just yet. I mean, he¡¯s not officially Amarant yet and there¡¯s still time to reconsider his choice.¡¯

    ¡®Nel, that¡¯s great! Nelesa V¨¦thelon, second-in-command of the cavalry of Anardes.¡¯

    She blushed.

    ¡®You will be splendid,¡¯ El¡¯enur said. Nelesa¡¯s face was now only a few shades off her dress colour.

    ¡®I hope that we can both make a difference for good in the world,¡¯ she said.

    El¡¯enur nodded. ¡®We have a chance to do that, Nel. I think your instincts were right. About the Order¡¯s leaders. About those who are truly setting events into motion. And if we don¡¯t find them soon, we¡¯ll lose more than we can hope to regain.¡¯

    ¡®Hold that conviction, El,¡¯ she said. ¡®You will make a great Amarant.¡¯

    ¡®Thank you. Now, shall we?¡¯ He offered her a hand.

    ¡®Yes, let¡¯s go.¡¯

    ¡®It wouldn¡¯t do to miss two important events.¡¯

    A look of confusion crossed her features, and then she perked up. ¡®Your birthday! It would have just passed when we¡­¡¯

    ¡®When we were coming back to Fara¡¯ethar, yes. Miserable days, those were. I¡¯m half-glad I didn¡¯t remember.¡¯

    ¡®All the more reason to celebrate tonight.¡¯

    She took his hand, and the two made off towards the landing, and up the pathway climbing Fara¡¯ethar¡¯s cliff. Rows of hanging lights like rivers of stars guided their way.

    The Hall of the Elders was crowded, as it had been two years ago during Ad¨¦lia¡¯s ceremony. El¡¯enur found it hard to believe that he now stood where she had, about to swear the same vows. The Amarant was there now, on the dais before the throne with Darius and Nadros. They all wore formal attire; she a black dress patterned with emerald flame, Darius all in black and silver, and Nadros an outfit worthy of the navy¡¯s master. They stood neat and still, almost like the statues encircling the chamber. El¡¯enur felt dwarfed by their marble gazes.

    Looking around, the Hall was brighter and livelier than El¡¯enur had expected, given its ancient trappings. Bright torchlight filled and warmed every available space and El¡¯enur thought he could make out light-bearing crystals of some sort in the chandeliers above. Perhaps some feat of starlight engineered by the steward. These radiant gems threw spidery beams along the tiled floor, giving it the appearance of gleaming glass. El¡¯enur appreciated the spectacle for his momentous occasion.

    If there was a downside, however, it would be that he shared this auspicious night with Guldar. The burly man was next to El¡¯enur, hands clasped behind his back and eyes closed as he faced the throne. For the first time ever, he seemed nervous. Among the faces arrayed around them, Guldar¡¯s family was there, too. His wife Innareth had found a seat on the east wing and she held her two little ones close.

    The steward himself was not yet present, but it seemed as if the entire castle and half the city had been invited. Seats had been procured and set up across the length of the Hall, and many more people were standing around the pillars, filling the space to the brim and spilling out into the antechamber. El¡¯enur spotted many from his own mane among the guests, looking far more dignified out of their combat gear.

    Near the front of the crowd, the archer noticed Asphales and Valinos. How dear those two had become in the short span of knowing them. There they stood now side by side in swathing velvet, seeming more confident and yet more broken than before, supporting one they barely knew. He caught their eye and smiled. How much would be asked of them as their potential grew?

    Beside them was Nelesa, with a proud smile on her face. She waved at him as El¡¯enur scanned the room. She had always been there, from their days in the Academy to the horrors faced together. How blind he had been.

    Thank you, Nel.

    El¡¯enur¡¯s breath caught when he saw a pair of older folk sitting a few rows behind Nelesa. A woman with drapes of golden hair like fields of wheat, and a tall man who looked sturdy despite waves of greying hair. Their sky-blue eyes found his. Mother and father. El¡¯enur hadn¡¯t seen them since before¡ª He found he had to turn away and face elsewhere. They had heard the news, but seeing them now made him truly realise their family was no longer whole.

    ¡®You alright?¡¯ Guldar asked quietly as El¡¯enur snapped to the front.

    El¡¯enur gave a perfunctory nod and tried to think of something else. Anything else.

    ¡®How could I not be?¡¯ he said, cracking a smile. ¡®Amarant at half your age, Guldar.¡¯ He winked.

    Guldar let out a soft chuckle. ¡®And half the skill, so I¡¯m not too bothered. I fear for the poor sods who will have to suffer your leadership. And now we have to stick together and coordinate even more.¡¯

    ¡®Like butter on bread, my friend.¡¯

    Guldar didn¡¯t respond, but nudged him. El¡¯enur looked over, and then for a moment, there was a flash of genuine admiration and friendship in the older man¡¯s eyes. ¡®Well done, lad,¡¯ he said.

    A quiet fell over the Hall. The steward had emerged from between two statues and was making his way over to the raised platform. The clack of his glowing staff resounded over the remnant whispers and murmurs. Amaleron walked to the front, a few paces in front of El¡¯enur and Guldar and raised his hand. The audience took their seats. El¡¯enur¡¯s nerves made him acutely aware of the faces watching him and the sweat beading on his brow. What if he fumbled through his vow?

    ¡®Friends of starlight,¡¯ the steward began, ¡®we gather today in the wake of a costly victory. None here are to be faulted if this does not feel like a victory at all. The losses we bear, the absences we are choked by, the brokenness yet to be mended ¨C these all speak and shout out of our hearts and this pain should not be ignored. And yet this very pain also tells us that something is not aright. It reminds us of our fractured world, of the shadow hanging over all of us.

    ¡®We are called to face darkness, indeed often a darkness which we find within ourselves. The men and women you see standing before you have taken on this responsibility, in a way that we perhaps may never truly grasp. Such is the burden of an Amarant, of a commander, and, no less worthily, of all who take the mantle to defend Anardes. Light, love, and life. All that we value is threatened by the legacy of the Dragonking.

    ¡®And so, we cannot abandon our conviction that such light should keep shining, that such love deserves to continue, that such life is worth defending. Amarantship is no mere title, but an oath. A commitment to that which ought not to fade or perish. It is a decision to rise against the tide of corruption, and, against the deafening music of the dark to sing a different song.

    ¡®Today we acknowledge and celebrate just such a commitment from those who are stepping forth to bind themselves to Amarantship. The two men before you have given much, suffered much, devoted much. And they are ready to give yet much more to halt the spread of shadow and facilitate for others to do the same.

    ¡®Step forward now, El¡¯enur Tharadin.¡¯ Amaleron¡¯s voice strengthened his will and bolstered his imperfect conviction. He stepped up to the dais and knelt. Darius came up beside the Elder as a ceremonial banner was laid on the archer¡¯s shoulder. Darius looked at him warmly, more than El¡¯enur thought possible out of such a stern man. As the steward spoke, El¡¯enur thought it strange that he was about to outrank the man who, in many ways, made him who he was.

    ¡®You are thus called into the service of light¡¯s song, elected for the mandate of love¡¯s obedience, and chosen for Amarantship. In allegiance to Anardes, your blood and starlight are to be given for this world¡¯s protection. For three hundred years and two, this duty has been upheld. Do you, the thirty-first Amarant of the Bow, swear to do the same?¡¯

    El¡¯enur Tharadin spoke his oath.

    ¡®By the grace of Regulus and Carinae, I do.¡¯

    As the solemnity of Amaleron¡¯s address passed and the cheers and applause erupted behind him, El¡¯enur¡¯s mind and heart settled on a feeling that no title or task would erase, a desire that would not come undone. It was a yearning that rang true to the steward¡¯s words and would perhaps feed the commitment he was making on this very day.

    I wish Ser¨¬n were here to see me.

    * * *

    Moving on from the battle was not as easy as turning the pages of a book. In a story, how easily did one turn from the sweeping bloodshed to the glorious outcome without repercussions of conscience and character. As Asphales sat in the shadowed hall, devoid of flame and lit only by the strange stones which had illuminated the ceremony earlier, he wondered whether the effects of such battles were glossed over intentionally in books, or simply lost to time and the larger concerns of rising and falling empires.

    For Asphales, the stress and depression came in waves. It sometimes came as a tremor in his hands, particularly if he tried to handle his blade. Sometimes it washed over as a blankness of mind and thought. And occasionally, he would hear that girl¡¯s dying words and see the fading colour of her eyes. To escape such a flash, Asphales looked up at Hadar¡¯s statue. Father, did you ever feel like this?

    She had been so young, so lost. Asphales fought back the sickening feeling of what was gone, and hung on to the determination to protect, to never let another be so deceived by the pull of shadow.

    ¡®Asphales,¡¯ said Valinos. His friend¡¯s voice echoed through the Hall and startled him. Asphales hadn¡¯t realised anyone was still here. He rose from his pew and turned. Valinos was there, nearly blended in the dark. A sword was at his side. ¡®There is something I need to talk to you about,¡¯ he said. ¡®Something I need to show you.¡¯

    He walked over and they met beneath the unwavering starlight captured above them.

    ¡®There¡¯s more to what happened at the Dragon¡¯s Eye than I have told you,¡¯ Valinos said.

    ¡®Valinos, is everything alright?¡¯

    ¡®I¡­ I don¡¯t know. Asphales, if I repeat those stupid words you mutter¡­ watch this.¡¯

    He unsheathed Gulren and held it level before him.

    ¡®Astera endunemai,¡¯ he chanted. Asphales gasped. A sharp light, an angry light, flared out of the blade. As Valinos focused, tiny bolts of lightning sparked along the sword, leaping and dancing across the metal. Then Valinos relented and put down his weapon. Its glint faded, leaving the chamber lit only by the gentle stones overhead once more. There was a lingering storm in his winter-blue eyes.

    ¡®Valinos¡­ how did you¡­?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯ve been listening, my friend. I¡¯ve picked up a few of the things you said as you were practicing.¡¯

    ¡®No, but how¡­ so all this time¡­¡¯

    ¡®Something happened to me up there, in my battle with the Order. I thought you should know.¡¯

    ¡®Valinos, I think you might be of Elder blood.¡¯

    Valinos frowned, turned away, and roared. He brandished his sword and swung towards one of the statues. Light burst out once more, and the blade sent forth a wave which lit the walls and struck the marble with the boom of a thunderclap.

    Asphales recoiled at the outburst, and was shocked at the brazen ease with which Valinos lashed out at such a relic. His head was awash with implications, with confusion. Valinos had been deposited in their town as an infant. Might one of these unknown parents have been an Elder? Why had they done this? Asphales realised the sickness churning in the pit of his stomach would pale in comparison to what Valinos must surely be feeling.

    ¡®Master Valinos,¡¯ a voice broke out, ¡®if you would be so kind as to leave the image of Seginus in peace.¡¯ It was the steward. Amaleron strode in and stepped across the darkened tiles towards them. His robes were billowing as in a fierce wind. Behind him, Ad¨¦lia kept pace.

    ¡®I had hoped to find you, Asphales,¡¯ he said as he reached them, ¡®but I did not expect to be the one surprised tonight.¡¯ He frowned and turned to Valinos. ¡®I will not ask you to repeat your earlier feat, but unless I am mistaken, Valinos, we witnessed a demonstration of imbuement.¡¯

    Valinos had cooled, composed himself, and sheathed his sword. ¡®Yes. I don¡¯t know how it is that I can do this now.¡¯

    ¡®What do we make of this?¡¯ Ad¨¦lia asked. Asphales noticed her whitened lock of hair again. There was more than one mystery this night, it seemed.

    Amaleron did not speak for a moment. He looked from Valinos to the statue. Despite the dim light, a blackened stripe was visible, defacing Seginus¡¯ depiction.

    ¡®Mortals have varying access to starlight,¡¯ he began, more to himself, ¡®so it is possible for this to be nothing more than natural endowment. And yet¡­ this colour and intensity I sense¡­¡¯ His musings became a low groan.

    When the steward¡¯s voice picked up again, its intensity lessened, like a weakening flame. ¡®Here I must confess ignorance, Valinos. I am sorry, but I simply do not know.¡¯

    ¡®Could there be more of us?¡¯ Asphales wondered.

    ¡®It is true we are not aware of the movements of many of the Nodir¨¬m as we have remained hidden for many years. But the unveiling of this new song has brought many surprising things to light. The fact that two children of starlight have been sired is astounding enough. For there to be a third¡­ It is not out of the question.¡¯

    ¡®How can we find out for sure?¡¯ Valinos asked.

    ¡®Well, in this respect, allow me to suggest a course of action and return to the purpose I sought you out tonight.¡¯ Amaleron took a seat and ran a hand through his beard before going on. Asphales, Ad¨¦lia, and Valinos gathered around him.

    ¡®The Order of Seven lies decimated,¡¯ he continued. ¡®They have lost their entire operation at the Dragon¡¯s Eye. Four of the Seven are confirmed dead. The survival of one is questionable, leaving only two active members, who fled during the fighting. For this result and for all that you have bravely withstood, I am grateful to all three of you.

    ¡®We have weakened the Order and perhaps it is best to keep pressing ere they have a chance to recuperate. I believe we are now faced with the daunting prospect of pursuing these so-called Lords of the Seven. We need to find out by what means they are determining the location of the Nodir¨¬m. And perhaps in doing so, we will not only halt their devious plans, but also find out more about your nature.

    ¡®Asphales, I have not been entirely honest with you. I asked to have a look at the volume you carried with you, but my intentions were not entirely benign. I guard calamitous secrets that would crush and embitter lesser men. But you, at least, deserve to know some of it. For I have sent you off into danger, and am about to do so again, without revealing all I should have.¡¯

    Amaleron lifted his eyes and looked at Ad¨¦lia and Valinos, too, his ancient gaze reserved and urgent. ¡®It is time you all know the truth about the Nodir¨¬m, and about the Dragonking.¡¯

 Epilogue - Guilt Unrelenting

    Failure.

    Sanah was a failure.

    It was written in the speechless stones, carved into the accusing eyes of the Undorn. She had turned her back on the Dragon¡¯s Eye, and on everything she stood for.

    Sanah had fled, scurrying on a path deep into the mountains where none could follow and whence she did not intend return. Her limbs, pained by every step at first, were now numb. She dragged herself along, one senseless footfall after another as the peaks rose around her. The scorching sun laughed at her misery, while the moon prolonged her torment with its soothing and deceptive light. And all through the wheeling of the sky and all its colours, a chill threatened to lay her down into sleep. Perhaps she should accept it. Perhaps she should lay down.

    Nathariel was dead.

    Shurun¡¯el was dead.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    What remained for her? Only her Lady¡¯s ire and Rubi?l¡¯s unceasing taunts. She did not want to face that. Every breath she took was momentary reprieve from the inevitable.

    Tumbling scree whispered around her as she climbed onward. These rocks would become her catacomb. Better this than the shame of a fury too weak to avenge her lover. Better this than the absence of his touch, his kiss.

    Sanah collapsed. Her weapon dropped and tumbled away somewhere in the crags. She did not care. Her blade had been a lie. There was no fortune in this. There was no hope for her new world.

    She turned over to take one last look at the sky. The dust and the cold were close. But she saw instead the branches of a strange tree, stark and veiny like a reverse lightning strike. Its curious design splayed against the stony background.

    The old tree¡¯s roots barely clung on to unwelcoming rock. Are you here to die, too?

    So bright was the light of the sun splintered through its branches. Sanah welcomed it. Oh, how she welcomed it.

    And out of those blinding rays, a silver-haired figure appeared before her. Riala was in their hand.

    The last thing Sanah heard before all went black was a voice as soft as starlight.

    To be continued in...

    THALASSAE

    Book II of The Shadow of the Dragonking

 A1 - Pronunciation

    NOTE ON PRONUNCIATION

    This note clarifies the main features in the pronunciation of the Anarda?an language and derived names. Aside from the exceptions noted, the Nadoresian language exhibits identical pronunciation patterns.

    CONSONANTS

    D at the beginning of a word pronounced as in the English death; when in the middle or end of a word it is pronounced as a soft dh, as in the English the, they

    G always has the sound of the English get rather than giant

    H always has the value of ch as in Bach, unless preceded by p, s, or t

    F/PH as in the English phone; transcribed with an ¡°F¡± when representing elements in names and words from ancient Anarda?an, and ¡°PH¡± when representing the same sound derived from NadoresianStolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    SH as in the English shine

    TH as in the English thin; never as in they

    DR is never slurred as in the English dream; both consonants retain their full value; if occurring in the middle of a word, the softening of the D also applies

    VOWELS

    A always pronounced as in the English ask rather than ale

    E always pronounced as a distinct vowel, even at the end of a word; always as in the English get

    ? identical in pronunciation to E; the presence of the diaeresis in the diphthong A? indicates the vowels are to be pronounced individually, or, especially in the common nominal ending ?L, denotes a feminine name

    ¨¬ lengthened as in the English seem

    O always pronounced as in the English on, never as once

    ¨­ lengthened as in the English lore

    U always pronounced as oo, never as in the English untitled or useful

    Y between ee in feet and oo in fool, making the ¡®ee¡¯ sound while rounding the lips; common in Senh¨¬ names

    OTHER

    ¡¯ indicates a glottal stop, a break in pronunciation between the surrounding letters (see Appendix for usage); non-existent in Nadoresian

    ACCENTS

    Generally, words commencing with a vowel are accented on the last syllable, while those beginning with a consonant on the first. Exceptions due to etymological differences occur frequently.

 A2 - Lexicon

    ELEMENTS IN ANARDA?AN

    For those interested in the origin and meaning of the character and place names in The Shadow of the Dragonking is here compiled a glossary of words from which the nomenclature is derived. It is hoped that a glimpse into the workings of the language will add to the appreciation and understanding of the reader, particularly in noting the thematic significance of people, places, and events.

    Only the current Anarda?an language is included here, for reasons glimpsed in the storyline. The ancient Anarda?an tongue spoken by Ulm¨¬r at his coronation, while exhibiting similarities with the more modern dialect, is all but forgotten, relegated to the status of cultural relic at present. The Nadoresian language, introduced as it was by the Council of Ten, had a limited influence and span in the history of Anardes after the fall of Ulm¨¬r and the decline of the Council¡¯s strength. Moreover, not enough is known about the language to compile a significant list of terms. While its interaction with Anarda?an has introduced noticeable variations, its roots lie too deep in the origin of the Nodir¨¬m[1]</a> for any meaningful data to be gathered.[2]</a> The extant examples available are limited to the names of the Nodir¨¬m and a few other figures (e.g., Asphales).

    adal  ¡®to love¡¯ (note feminine participle Ad¨¦lia, ¡®Beloved¡¯)

    adala ¡®love¡¯

    adran ¡®throne¡¯

    ah ¡®black¡¯

    ak ¡®friend,¡¯ ¡®companion¡¯

    amal ¡®spirit¡¯

    amar ¡®music¡¯

    an ¡®day¡¯

    anar ¡®to burn¡¯ (note Anardes, ¡®Burning One¡¯ or ¡®World¡¯)

    anath ¡®light¡¯

    arag ¡®sorrow¡¯ (note the first element in Argoelle)

    arin ¡®secret¡¯

    asel ¡®eagle¡¯

    bal ¡®dragon¡¯

    bede ¡®stone¡¯

    bar ¡®hidden¡¯

    calam ¡®sea,¡¯ ¡®ocean¡¯

    canar ¡®beast¡¯ (small animals)

    dar ¡®might,¡¯ ¡®mighty¡¯ (likely the origin of Darius)

    daraf ¡®to break¡¯

    den ¡®iron¡¯

    deneh ¡®king¡¯

    dorn ¡®hill,¡¯ ¡®mountain¡¯

    drof ¡®broken¡¯

    e denotes the genitive ¡®of¡¯ when connecting two words (e.g., Amaleron = ¡®spirit of strength¡¯); if the presence of this particle causes the doubling of the vowel ¡®e¡¯ it is dropped and replaced by the glottal stop (¡¯)Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    eder ¡®grace¡¯

    edim ¡®honour¡¯

    el/?l ¡®message,¡¯ ¡®messenger¡¯

    elle ¡®beautiful,¡¯ ¡®beauty¡¯

    ehar ¡®name¡¯

    emered ¡®enemy¡¯

    eneth ¡®silver¡¯

    enur ¡®sun¡¯

    ered ¡®earth¡¯

    esel ¡®exalted¡¯

    esh ¡®flame¡¯

    ethar ¡®lion¡¯

    farae ¡®hair,¡¯ ¡®mane¡¯

    fel ¡®joy¡¯

    fen ¡®daugher¡¯

    fin ¡®son¡¯

    foron ¡®north¡¯

    fr¨¬r ¡®fire¡¯

    gaban ¡®to strike,¡¯ ¡®to bite¡¯

    gadah ¡®to fly,¡¯ ¡®to soar¡¯

    galad ¡®to cut¡¯

    geled ¡®sword,¡¯ ¡®blade¡¯

    giban ¡®snake¡¯

    goh ¡®wood,¡¯ ¡®forest¡¯

    gul ¡®blood¡¯

    halas ¡®shield¡¯

    hamil ¡®flower¡¯

    haz ¡®desert¡¯

    honar ¡®death¡¯

    i pronominal suffix (¡®his,¡¯ ¡®her¡¯; e.g., Inidiron = his rage [is] strength)

    iash ¡®truth¡¯

    inid ¡®rage¡¯

    inosh ¡®vessel¡¯

    ish ¡®truthful,¡¯ ¡®faithful,¡¯ ¡®dependable¡¯

    karan ¡®storm¡¯

    ken¨¦th ¡®road¡¯

    kethen ¡®learning¡¯

    lahad ¡®sand¡¯

    lash ¡®memory¡¯

    lir ¡®dove¡¯

    lonor ¡®weapon¡¯ (esp. long weapons e.g., spears and lances)

    lun ¡®west¡¯

    manar ¡®hand,¡¯ ¡®arm¡¯, ¡®claw,¡¯ ¡®paw¡¯

    masil ¡®wind¡¯

    mere ¡®humble¡¯

    minur ¡®foot,¡¯ ¡®leg¡¯

    m¨¬r ¡®reign¡¯

    nadar ¡®to shine¡¯

    nadores ¡®night sky¡¯ (lit. ¡®Shining One¡¯)

    nahal ¡®to hate¡¯

    narah ¡®to eat¡¯

    nasah ¡®to rise¡¯

    nathar ¡®fox¡¯

    nereh ¡®eater¡¯

    nesheh ¡®east¡¯

    n¨¬th ¡®time¡¯

    nod¨¬r ¡®star,¡¯ ¡®Elder¡¯

    nor ¡®crown¡¯

    nos ¡®glass¡¯

    nuhar ¡®life¡¯

    olan ¡®valley¡¯

    om ¡®will,¡¯ ¡®influence¡¯

    onel ¡®gold¡¯

    ralin ¡®land¡¯

    relon ¡®boar¡¯

    rel?n ¡®esteem,¡¯ ¡®renown¡¯

    remer ¡®bitter¡¯

    ren ¡®river¡¯

    ron ¡®strong,¡¯ ¡®strength¡¯

    rub ¡®gem,¡¯ ¡®precious¡¯

    sae ¡®hope¡¯

    sanah ¡®moon¡¯

    sanar ¡®to hunt,¡¯ ¡®hunter¡¯

    sar ¡®ice¡¯

    semer ¡®south¡¯

    seneh/sheneh ¡®water¡¯

    sheleh ¡®silver¡¯ (currency)

    shurun ¡®pride¡¯

    sil ¡®new,¡¯ ¡®sky¡¯

    son ¡®snow¡¯

    tael ¡®diamond¡¯

    talan ¡®to pierce,¡¯ ¡®to strike,¡¯ (with weapon)

    tasat ¡®to bear fruit,¡¯ ¡®to produce offspring¡¯

    thala ¡®to fight,¡¯ ¡®to do battle¡¯

    thara ¡®to want,¡¯ ¡®to desire¡¯

    thelen ¡®soldier¡¯

    thrim ¡®difficult¡¯

    ul ¡®dream,¡¯ ¡®wolf¡¯

    umar ¡®shadow¡¯

    un ¡®steel¡¯

    val ¡®heart¡¯

    var ¡®open,¡¯ ¡®honest¡¯

    vel ¡®head¡¯ (note velamar, ¡®head-music¡¯ = voice)

    ves ¡®soul¡¯

    <hr>

    [1]</a> Anarda?an term for the Council of Ten. The Nadoresian nomenclature has been long forgotten, and the Nodir¨¬m themselves resorted to using the Anarda?an terminology commonly in use. Similarly, Amaleron uses his Anarda?an name due to his exposure and dealings with the Anarda?an people.

    [2]</a> It is also worth noting that several of the known aspects of Nadoresian are themselves seemingly drawn from Anarda?an, including the language¡¯s namesake. Whether this was the genuine historical development and interaction of the two languages or a later, scholarly Anarda?an imposition onto the study of the language of the Nodir¨¬m is a matter of ongoing debate.

 A3 - Miscellaneous

    THE ANARDA?AN CALENDAR

    The calendar in Anardes resembles a lunar calendar, in that it comprises a seven-day week, a twenty-eight-day month, and a thirteenth-month year of 364 days. It is tied to the cosmology of the world that Anardes is a part of, with its thirteen main constellations dividing the night sky. Much of the information here has no bearing on the story and is simply provided for those who wish to delve deeper into the finer workings of the Anarda?an world.

    Weekdays

    Sunsfell

    Moonspell

    Windsell

    Meadsbell

    Stonestell

    Kingsdell

    Queenthell

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Months

    Etharis

    Denehis

    Balis

    Lonoris

    N¨¬this

    Kenthis

    Sanaris

    Aselis

    Relonis

    Gibanis

    G¨¦ledis

    Miris

    Valis

    Constellations

    The Lion

    The King

    The Dragon

    The Lance

    The Hourglass

    The Road

    The Hunter

    The Eagle

    The Boar

    The Serpent

    The Blade

    The Dove

    The Heart

    Other Terms

    one week = one tide (arch. ¡®shadow-tide¡¯)

    one month = one turn (arch. ¡®moonturn¡¯)

    one year = one course (arch. ¡®suncourse¡¯)

    COMMANDS OF STARLIGHT

    Channelling one¡¯s starlight into a useable enchantment involves intention, declaration, and direction. The user must first intend to tap into the flow and vast reserve of lifeforce and seek to connect their own flow with that of the world. Then, one must declare the words and shape the initial burst of starlight. Finally, once this flow is opened and active, it must be continually directed toward purpose, whether to endow, mend, or indeed (in the case of corrupted starlight) harm.

    Astera pl¨¥ie ¨C ¡®starlight fill [this place]¡¯

    Astera balleis ¨C ¡®starlight strike [you]¡¯

    Astera lutheneth ¨C ¡®starlight be loosed [upon you]¡¯

    Astera iatemai ¨C ¡®starlight heal [this broken body]¡¯

    Astera endunemai ¨C ¡®starlight endow [this weapon]¡¯

    Astera psallo ¨C ¡®starlight mark [these words]¡¯