Etriny, an eclectic mix of denizens and elemental plains. A wondrous kingdom isolated from the rest of the world by towering peaks and shear cliffs, a circle broken up only by the entrance to the sea. The closest attainable lands were The Broken Isles, but sadly they are no longer. A plight has befallen the great kingdom. Six of the elemental plains have lost their luster. It is often said, in times of strife Champions will rise. Our tale does not begin with a Champion however, but an adversary.


The sound of footfalls echoed off the walls as a well dressed gentleman walked beneath the high arches of the hallway leading to the throne room. It was impressive architecture crafted by stone masons from a bygone era; but such thoughts were far from the young man's mind. It wasn't that a man of his status didn't appreciate the mastery of shaping the volcanic rock that made up the Imperial Castle, or how it had been polished to a mirror like shine; it was simply not important at the time. When he reached the large ornate doors his fingers rested on the intricate designs as he took a few deep breaths. The poor fellow nearly leaped from his skin when he felt a hand upon his shoulder.

"Easy Tamlyn, I see Ivagio has been telling tall tales to the recruits again." The hand belonged to a silver haired man with a warm smile upon his face and a mirthful light in his matching eyes. "The Queen does not kill messengers that bring her bad news."

A wave of relief washed over the young man, he tried not to let it show, but ultimately failed. "Are... Are you certain?"

"Relax Tamlyn. Is that the report on the wall?" He said gesturing to the scroll in the young man's hand. "May I see it?"

Tamlyn looked down at the scroll, he'd nearly forgotten he had it. "Of course my Lord." The warmth in the Dark Lord's face disappeared and was replaced with a grave expression when he opened the scroll and scanned its contents.

"I see. This is indeed not what she wanted to see." After rolling the scroll back up he handed it back to the messenger saying, "I have an important matter to attend. Give this to Her Majesty." As he walked down the hall he stopped and called out to the young man. "Tamlyn, if you see her eyes flash ...duck."

The color drained from his face as he stared down at the scroll in his hand. Taking a few deep breaths he turned to face the door and swallowed hard before pushing it open. The guard announced him as he made his way to the throne then bowed, presenting the scroll to the beautiful queen. "The report on Tonule, you're majesty."

The queen's aide removed the scroll from his hand then gave it to her. "He appears to be trembling you're majesty."

"So he does. Tamlyn, why are you trembling in my court?" The queen's tone was neutral and Tamlyn didn't know what to make of it. Words formed in his mind, but his mouth refused to open. "Have you been talking to Lord Ivagio and Dalmar?" Tamlyn managed a feeble nod. "I see," the queen said as she opened the scroll. "Your are dismissed Tamlyn. And for gods sake pull yourself together!"

Tamlyn's exit was an expedient one, the poor fellow really needed a drink.

<<<>>>

The tavern was a lively place filled with soldiers and citizens alike. Tavern maids worked their way through the crowds carrying all manner tonics and ale to the often brutish knights, some were quite friendly though, perhaps too friendly. It was at one of these tables that Ivagio and Dalmar were having a drink with the rest of the men. It was a table filled with laughter as the two spoke of their hazing of the new recruit. "So I said to him, if you see her eyes flash ...duck." The table roared with the thundering sound of pounding fists and boisterous laughter. "You should have seen the look on his face." Ivagio nudged him and gestured toward the door. "Speak of the devil. Tamlyn get over here!" When the young recruit arrived Ivagio nodded to Dalmar. The silver haired man raised his glass to Tamlyn. "A toast; your spirit survived the tortures of the academy and your heart survived us. Welcome to the Queen's Knights. May you serve her well." Dalmar finished his drink then rose from his seat. The queen would be summoning him soon so it was time to take his leave; he would need to be more presentable before he entered her court.

<<<>>>

Sitting at his desk going over the layout of the walled city, Dalmar awaited the queen's summons. After seeing the report on the wall, he knew his initial strategy would end in failure. The wall was constructed out of Arcainum and Starnite, a truly impressive feat. Arcainum got it's name for it's enmity to the Arcane. The crystal within the stone was able to repel all forms of arcane power. Combined with extremely durable Starnite, the wall was nigh indestructible. The wall wasn't the only problem however, the Kingdom City of Tonule was an island. Surrounded by a lake of pristine waters that cascaded down down a rear cliff face, the city was truly secure. Such security gave the people a self sustaining haven that they never need leave.

When he heard the knock upon his door, he rose from his seat and opened it. Beautiful blue eyes and cascading red locks that framed the delicate features of the queen's aide met him at the threshold. "Lady Mirra," he said with a smile.

"Lord Dalmar, Her Majesty will see you now." Before he could respond, Mirra stepped out the way and the queen took her place.

"You're Majesty, I did not expect..."

The queen put up her hand and said, "be at ease Dalmar, I tire of the formalities of the court. What have you discovered?"

Moving away from the door he allowed the queen entrance to his rather spartan dwelling. When Mirra didn't follow he peaked his head out the door to see her retreating form, shaking his head he closed the door and returned to the matter at hand. "Damn rules," he said under his breath.

"You fancy her do you not?" The queen was sitting on his bed with her hands folded in her lap. Even though she had dropped the formalities of court, there was a striking regalness to her. "If the rules are getting in the way, then rules be damned."

Taken aback by her words, Dalmar stared at her in disbelief. "You're..."

"No formalities."

"Forgive me, ...Mother." It was difficult to say, but it was something he would have to get used to. The academy had drilled proper formality into him and was difficult to cast aside."What do you mean by rules be damned?"

Lynova gave him an incredulous look. "It is obvious is it not? Go after her; after our business is concluded of course."

"But our stations."

"How did you address her when you opened your door? You called her Lady, did you not? What rule prevents Lords and Ladies from being together? Honestly, you are grown man able to think for yourself, yet you still need me to hold your hand?"

"I... Dear gods I've been a fool." Dalmar said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Lynova looked at him sternly. "Yes, you have. Now tell me about Tonule."

Dalmar and the queen spoke at length about how best to handle Tonule. When the sun began its descent below the mountains, they were joined by the Grand Sage Artimican. The three of them went over the reports and diagrams and soon came up with an plan. "Will this work?" The queen asked.

"Only time will tell." Artimican rose from the floor, his back had become stiff and his knees ached but he wouldn't allow anyone to help him. "I will take my leave now. These old bones need a nice soft bed to rest in."

"I will accompany you." The queen said as she stood up from the bed. She led the old man to the door then opened it. Looking back at Dalmar she said, "good luck my son."

Dalmar closed the door behind them then began cleaning up the strewn papers. The journey to Tonule would begin in the morning; he was not looking forward to traveling with Ivagio, but the queen insisted. The people of Tonule would have to listen, if not ...they would be made to.

The sun woke him as always, rousing him from the kind of sleep only those who worked from sun up to sun down could experience. He turned, throwing the rough spun wool blanket against the wall, his bed being in the left front corner of his small single room stone house.

Bare feet touched onto cold stone floor and hesitated for a moment, until, with a groan the young man pulled himself to his feet, hands braced against his knees, bones cracking and popping with every movement, every pop/crack, met with a satisfied sigh. He allowed himself one more languid stretch, before making his way across the smooth, gray stone floor to the hearth situated in the exact opposite corner.

He worked unhurriedly, gathering things together that were needed to start the day. A kettle came first, water set to boil, fire catching easily to the dry wood, the coals left from the previous night more than enough to ignite it.

While the water heated, he moved about his small home. Pulling on his pants, cursing slightly as the cold leather came into contact with his skin. A pair of well cared for wool socks came next, followed by obviously well worn boots, beaten on by age but still serving their purpose. Standing from the three-legged stool he used to put on the boots, he moved back towards the hearth. However, he did not go directly for the kettle; that was just beginning to whistle, but instead he stood on his tows and reached gingerly above the hearth, drawing from a hidden alcove a silver pendant on a leather cord.

A gentle smile of both nostalgia and wanting moved across his face for a moment, while he remembered his father telling him of his mother, the women who had given her life so that he may live his. She had, of course, died as he was being born. The pendant the only thing of hers his father had kept, and then passed to his son, on his death bed.

The sound of the kettle whistling in earnest tore him from his thoughts, and he shoved the pendant deep into his only pocket\ before moving towards the kettle, donning a pair of old leather work gloves as he went.

The kettle was hot. He could feel that even through his gloves, he grinned then, as he poured the water slowly into a bowl full of tea leaves, he enjoyed tea very much. Even if he did have to drink it from a bowl, he'd had a cup once, but he had foolishly left it sitting on his porch one evening, it was not there the next morning. He hadn't gotten around to getting a new one.

Leaves steeping in a bowl, the young man resigned himself to his work. The sun was full up, and the fields would not work themselves. Though, he mused, sometimes he felt it would be nice if they could. It would give him time to pursue things beside his obligations. Such as reading more on herbal medicine, or, perhaps even something frivolous like painting.

Being a farmer wasn't too bad he supposed, as long as the crops came in he would always have something to eat, he really couldn't gripe. He had a roof above his head, and a warm hearth. The people rarely tried to cheat him, no more than he would expect at least, honestly, sometimes he wondered if people thought if they argued with him on the price long enough, they could get the vegetables for free.

With a resolved sigh he pulled back the bolt on the door. Letting the sun spread in to the dark house, casting away the shadows, and revealing the motes of dust in the air.

The grounds were just beginning to steam as he stepped out, heading toward the makeshift shed where he kept his tools, it was a good day to turn the soil, and prepare it for the next season of planting. That thought in the forefront of his mind he pulled the hoe from it's resting place, giving it a quick once over, and nodding his head when he was satisfied it was in good working shape.

He paid the people walking on the road near his field little mind, and they didn't bother him either. His field would be in the shadow of the great wall for only a few hours, and it was his intention to get the lions share of the work done before the sun would be beating down on him, as a farmer he both loved and hated the sun. Loved it's ability to nurture crops, to help them grow, and loathed it for what it could do to a man who did not acknowledge its superiority.

He spent the morning breaking into sun baked earth, rolling it over and over until he was satisfied, few people stopped him as he worked, mostly to ask him when he would be ready to sell what he'd brought in, he turned them away, with little more than: “It'll get to the market when it gets there.”

Some, however, stopped his work trying to be sociable, to them he gave only marginally more time, only enough that he could not be seen as impolite, and never more than that.

As the sun rose to it's highest in the sky at midday, and he'd finished all but about half of what he'd set out to, he headed in, kicking dirt from his boots as he neared the narrow edge of his small porch, and leaning the hoe gently against the wall to the right of the door. His tea that had been steeping since the early morning, it was cold, and strong from sitting so long. Just as he liked it. He drank at it as he ate at a raw tomato. Wondering if this was all there would ever be for him. Plowing, and planting, raking and hoeing, it was a purposeful life, if not terribly fulfilling to him. The only times he felt truly alive were when he sat upon the highest point of the wall he could get to, staring across the water, across the trees, dreaming of what it might be like, wondering what there might be for him out in the greater world beyond farming.

He sat lost in thought for some time, until at last he looked down and realized all the tea was gone, and he'd eaten the tomato fully. There was still almost half of the day left, time he would normally have spent working the fields, but today was different. There was still time to prepare the fields he thought to himself, yes, he would take the rest of the day off. Go and get some new books, take some of his crops and trade for coin. Then he would buy more books, a waste his father would've called it, to him it was an investment, knowledge was power after all. No one, absolutely no one, respected ignorance. He would learn as much as possible to make himself as less ignorant of the world as possible.

<<<>>>

The marketplace was bustling as always, He could hear the old and young alike gossiping like fools, he had little time or patience for people like that, he didn't care much for small talk, time is money, and not something he enjoyed wasting.

He had easily made his way through the stalls, his destination squarely set in mind, the old man he was looking for would give him fair prices on all his goods, he always did. As he made it within seeing distance of the stall he needed, a shout of greeting was spoken to him, and he caught sight of the waving form of Old-man Thompson. Just the man he was looking for.

Old-man Thompson was a bear of a man, even taller and broader of shoulder even than the young man was, in his old age he still had the sort of vitality that was absent in a lot of men even half his age, he dressed in well spun cottons. A shirt, and fine breeches of it, both of obviously higher quality than anything the young man owned. His hair was fully grey, but he still had a full head of it at the age of sixty five. He was clean shaven, with bright blue eyes.

“Jack, my boy! Come to sell me some of your fine vegetables?” He'd said, voice friendly, if a bit loud. Jack took it in stride, used to his behavior, he'd known the old man since he himself was just a boy, tagging along with his father to make a sell.

“I have fifty pounds of corn.” Jack replied, voice somewhat weary from the days work, but still strong, while swinging the heavy wicker basket from his shoulder down in front of the Mr. Thompson, who gave it a speculative look, before nodding.

“I can give you a fair price for that.” He replied, going for a leather coin pouch attached to his belt, no haggling, no trouble, Jack was pleased with this outcome. Even more so when the old man gave him twenty five gold coins for the basket of corn. “Not enough?” the old man asked seeing the stunned look on Jack's face. “Okay, five more, but not a copper over that.” He then lay five more gold in Jack's hand.

“Honestly Jack my boy, you work too hard. Buy some books, take a few days off.” He continued, the young man could do little more than nod mechanically.

“Thank you, sir.” He managed as Mr. Thompson walked away. “Think nothing of it.” Was the reply before he was gone.

Jack left, a lift to his step as he made his way to the bookstore he frequented.

<<<>>>

The shop had not changed at all since the last time he was there. The same musty smell of old leather, and older paper, ink, and lavender. The source of the lavender scent the young woman before him, grinning at him, like she hadn't seen him last week.

She was a slight woman, pale, but not in a sickly way. Her skin naturally milky. Long golden hair falling around and framing her face, making the green of her eyes shine all the brighter. He dress was of fine make, yellow, with a floral pattern, and probably expensive, he dutifully ignored the way it hugged her every curve.

“Jack! It's been too long!”Her voice was light, but surprisingly strong for such a slight women, he was easily a head taller than her. He smiled back at her, eyes already scanning the multitudes of titles on the shelves, weighing in his mind the pro's and con of each possible purchase.

“Alice, good to see you.” He replied distractedly, drifting towards the shelves laden with their literary treasures.

He began piling books into his arms, anything with a titles that sounded interesting, hours passed like that, Alice watching him a small smile on her lips, and Him gathering book after book to the counter. Sometimes stopping and reading whole chapters before moving on, before he knew it the sun listing low in the sky, and Alice busied herself shutting up the store, finally satisfied with his selection, he moved up towards the counter, money already in hand.

“Find everything alright.” she joked, laughing even as she spoke. Jack found he liked the sound, even if he didn't know how to respond to it.

“I, yes, I think so.” He replied handing her the money for the books and bundling them in his arms, getting ready to head back home.

“I don't suppose I'll be seeing you anytime soon, judging by the size of that pile.” She was smiling when she said it, but something in her voice made him reply differently than he normally would have.

“Perhaps not for books, but.” He paused there. What would he say? “Yes, but?” He'd stepped in it now, nothing for it but to charge forward head first.

“How would you like to come sit on the wall with me sometime?” It wasn't much of an offer he supposed, but it's something he'd shared with no one else. Her answering smile, and subsequent yes carried him all the way home, and until he went to bed that night.

Adion had been waiting for three hours on a bench in the throne room. Apparently, some military maneuver that was leaving the city had occupied the queen up until this time. Or at least that was what Adion had gathered from the guards' conversations.

He remembered last night, using up the last of his money of only five more doses of his liquid sleep, and the board and bed for said five days. After that, the veer would have to return back to his home, with whatever news he had to bring. The signs of the medicine that stole his money showed as his entire muzzle was an old hair white, a common side effect of the medication.

When the queen entered the chamber, the Veer would stand. His stance was one of a different society, straight and formal, but by no means noble. To the first look, the veer's rough cloth shorts and family helmet made him look like he was working one of the local farms. This, however, was very wrong. Other than that, the veer stood a few inches over most of the guards, and seemed to be made purely of muscle and fur. Most of the fur was black as night, excepting his muzzle and a small outline of his eyes, both of which were grayed by the medicine he took.

"I have come to seek your aid in restoring the Song of Tyr. Without it, my people will not be able to sleep, which will lead to a very violent state among the forest. If the song is not restored, I fear that the cities of Tyr will be the only safe place within the forests. It is also possible that if the Song of Tyr is not restored, groups of veer could leave the forest and begin attack those outside of it. I hope you can see just how urgent of a matter this is." The veer spoke, his voice seeming to have trouble with the words, but also the way he spoke said that his mind had an extremely good grasp of the language he spoke with perfect grammar. One could also tell by how the veer talked that he had some method of forcing himself to sleep.

He awoke with a start in the dark of his home, a hoarse cry of ‘stop!’ issuing from his lips into the night’s silence. The young man’s heart was racing, residual fear from his dream lingering on his mind. As usual, he couldn’t recall most of the actual dream as he sat up, his chest heaving as he commanded his breathing pace to slow. Just bits and pieces remained; this time he recalled a seizing pain jolting through his leg like electricity and feeling the need to protect something from someone…
Maxilith was jolted from his thoughts by a slight screech coming from below his bed-loft. In the living room area below, the two little birds he happened to be keeping for rehabilitating were stirring in their cage. His shout had woken them up. With a sigh, he lifted the covers from his legs and swung them out over the side of the bed as he tried to take stock of what hour it must be. From the sky’s current hue, which he could see from the window overlooking his bed, he gathered that morning light would soon welcome the world anyways and that the little birds hadn’t woken up too much earlier than they would have otherwise. So, Maxilith dismissed the thoughts of his dream and climbed down from the loft to tend to the small creatures.

“Ssshhh,” Maxilith headed straight for the cage, forgoing his option to don a shirt before tending to his small charges, “Calm down little ones, there’s nothing wrong here. It was just a dream,”

He opened the cage and gingerly moved to stroke the two young ones. He’d gotten them from a friend after a storm when they were babies, and has since done his best to help them grow to independence. It wouldn’t be long now before he could release them.

“I bet you guys want your breakfast soon,” Maxilith smiled, his frightful awakening all but forgotten, and pulled his hand from the cage. He moved to the shelf nearby on which he kept the bugs that his little birdies could handle in a jar, only to find that the jar was nearly empty. So, after feeding his charges, he covered their cage to shield them from the morning light and to help keep them calm, intending to go run his morning errands. As he finished putting on his shirt, there was a knock at his door. What could someone want this early in the day?

“Just a moment!” he called, hurrying to the door before even thinking to check the state of his long blonde hair in a mirror. He opened the door to reveal the dark-skinned face and slightly startled eyes of a village girl he knew as Ashyl.

“Oh, um, did I come at a bad time? I… wanted to check on Emi and Sato…” She spoke, avoiding eye contact and seeming slightly embarrassed. Emi and Sato were the names she’d given the baby birds, as she had been the one to find them back during their infancy. “I-I brought you breakfast, too!” She thrust a basket into Maxilith’s arms before he could object.

“Um, thank you,” Maxilith answered, eyes locked on the fabric covering the basket he now held. “You didn’t have to. I was getting ready to go run some errands anyways. I could have fed myself…”

“It’s a little early to be running errands, don’t you think?” Ashyl asked, her arms crossed in front of her.

“I… kinda woke up earlier than usual today,” Maxilith replied, “but I guess I don’t have to head out just yet…” He nodded for her to come inside.

“Thanks,” She entered and Maxilith shut the door behind her. “By the way, your hair looks ridiculous. Have you brushed it since you woke up?”

“Um, no. Kinda slipped my mind,” He set the basket down and lifted the covering to find some baked goods and a jar of what looked like orange marmalade.

“Those might maybe be yesterday’s leftovers from dad’s bakery… ”

“It’s fine. Wait,” He picked up a container hiding underneath a few biscuits to examine it, “Is this bread pudding?”

Ashyl turned away from the cage where she had been peeking under the covering at the birds and nodded. “I never said it was all from yesterday. I made that this morning with some left over dried fruit bread,”

Maxilith couldn’t help but smile. “This really wasn’t necessary,” Looking up from the basket, he noticed the girl turn away rather quickly back to the birds.

“It’s fine. Really,” She dismissed her generosity and changed the subject, “Have you fed them already this morning?”

“Actually, yes I have,” He opened the bread pudding and began to nibble at chunks of it using his fingers, not bothering to fetch an eating utensil. Ashyl glanced back at him and saw this and he could see information click before a look of disgust took over her face.

“Have you washed your hands since!?”

“I’m not stupid, Ashyl,” He replied, slightly offended. Her cheeks went red and she quickly recovered the bird cage.

“Sorry…” She’d been around enough for Maxilith to figure out that Ashyl had a near obsessive tendency to take care of people. He was beginning to think that she’d adopted him as a special project since leaving Emi and Sato with him and finding out that he lived alone. This wasn’t her first visit, and they usually consisted of her using the birds as an excuse to make sure he was fed and taking care of himself. Despite finding her visits to be intruding on his solitude at first, she'd grown on him somewhat. In the very least, she was good with animals, and had helped him out when he had more than just the birds to deal with.

“Don’t worry about it. You can’t help overthinking things, after all,”

“What?” She seemed slightly offended, but it got her to open her mouth and turn towards Maxilith, allowing him to shove a biscuit between her teeth. He gave a small laugh at the shocked look on her face.

“Are you going to help me eat all of this or not?”

I believe there is a star above assigned to every living being. They dance above and watch their respective person, and that vigil affects their dance. By observing the brilliant tapestry the paths of our stars make, it is possible to learn so much about what has been, what is, and what will be. You just have to be willing to watch and learn.

The night sky’s brilliance began to fade, marking the advent of morning. This was around the time most people woke up, but this change in the day instead marked bedtime for Hadyn half of the time. Due to her young age, the Great Library’s supervisor wouldn’t allow her to use an observatory every night. He said it was too early in life for her to become nocturnal. Hadyn was well aware of her age, but she felt that her young age made it more important for her to observe. Being as young as she was, her eyesight was better than many older astronomers, so her information would be more reliable. She didn’t see the point in waiting until she grew a bit older to observe every night. But I’ll end that particular rant regarding Hadyn’s passion for stargazing, as she makes her passions clear enough on her own.

Tonight, however, was a night on which the young stargazer was on watch, and the stars fading meant it was time for Hadyn to pack up for the night and go home. Her station was covered in papers in diagrams she’d pulled out or drawn on over the course of the evening. The primary receptacle for her notes was a thick leather-bound journal in which she took observation notes every night- there just happened to be fewer on nights she could not use the observatory. The notes made their way onto other paper as well, paper she sorted into nice piles for the scribes to make sense of during the day. And sometimes at night, when her loose notes weren’t clear, they’d double-check her personal journal for clarification.

The brunette closed her personal notebook and put it aside, then moved to gather her loose notes. There were only a few pages tonight, a bit lower than average for her, but it’d be a lucky break for whoever got assigned to copy the scribbles for the official library record. She put her journal into her bag along with the loose notes to turn in, then went and put her books away. After putting them away, she had only to turn in her notes for the evening before she could go home and get some sleep.

“Good morning, young miss Everett. Or should I be saying ‘good night’?” The man at the desk greeted Hadyn as she approached to turn in her papers.

“Y’know, I’ve heard you use that joke on the other observers before.” She put her notes onto the desk and stifled a yawn.

“Ah yes, but I haven’t had the pleasure of trying it out on you yet.”

“Is hearing your tired humor a rite of passage or something?” Hadyn stressed the pun.

“Nice one!” He let out a chuckle as he took her notes, “I’ll see you later this week,”

Hadyn shook her head at the man’s chipper attitude as she left the library. He starts his shift shortly before she has to leave on most mornings and seemed to find joy in rubbing his dumb jokes in the faces of the sleepy observers who’re on their way home. No one else seemed to mind him; they were probably just used to it. That or they were too tired to really care. But now he, and the library were behind her and she could go home. Without a telescope in front of her, her eyes had realized they were tired and she was looking forward to sleeping.

However, it would seem that sleep was not going to happen right away. Upon reaching her home, the sounds of a dog barking greeted her and were soon followed by a large, elderly, white dog.

“Griever!” she smiled and knelt down to pet the aging pooch, “Did Mama bring you to visit me?”

“That she did,” the sound of her mother’s voice was unmistakable. Hadyn looked up to see her mother standing in the doorway.

“Mama, how are you and Papa?” She stood and went to hug her mother. The two moved into the small house to continue the conversation, with Griever close behind them.

“I’m just fine. Your father seems busier than usual, though,”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Hadyn replied, going to her tiny kitchen to make some tea, only to find that her mother had already brewed some. “It does feel as if there’s something about to happen...”

“You think so?”

“Things have been quiet lately, and…”

“You’ve seen signs in stars?” Mama Everett guessed, sitting in the living room and picking up the cup of tea that she’d left on the table (and Hadyn noted another cup of tea waiting on the table for her). She tried to sound nonchalant about her guess, but she was used to her daughter reading the stars correctly most of the time. If Hadyn was about to admit that she’d read something bad, then she was likely to take her daughter seriously.

Hadyn nodded. “I believe so… but the signs are subtle. I’ve double checked the meanings of my observations in several books to be sure, but something still seems off about what I’ve noticed. The scribes who have to copy my notes these days probably think I’m crazy,” She sat in another chair, facing her mother.

“It’s not as if you’re the only astronomer to have seen such things before,”

“Predictions are Astrology, Mama. Not every observer uses their astronomical observations to make predictions as I tend to,” Hadyn corrected her.

“Right, right. I should have remembered that,” Her mother giggled a bit, “But hasn’t anyone else seen anything?”

“I’d be concerned if I’m the only one… but I’ve barely talked to the other astronomers, so they don’t really talk to me about their observations. The older ones sometimes check in on me, but…”

“Have you mentioned your concerns?”

“No… I was worried I was reading the stars wrong. The signs I’m seeing aren’t exactly common omens. I’m even seeing one pattern I’m having trouble finding in books,”

“Oh? A discovery?” Mama Everett seemed interested.

“Sort of? I mean I’m nor the first person to see it.” The daughter took a sip of her tea (a mint tea that wouldn’t wake her up, she noted) and started to explain, “It’s a vague pattern in the currently visible nebulas I’ve never seen before. The shape is what’s made me second guess myself, but I did find it in one of the library’s older records. Someone’s seen it before, but couldn’t discern its meaning then, either.”

“If someone’s seen it before, why isn’t there a meaning associated with it?”

“Because so much happened after that; this record was written before this dynasty and was lucky to survive the change in power. Also because what happened didn’t seem to correspond to the pattern’s shape. The guy wrote it off as a long term prediction and it was forgotten.”

“Well, what does it look like?”

“Some sort of winged creature,”

The queen stood on the balcony outside her window overlooking the arcane garden. Her eyes lit up as she watched the flowers dance in the firsts rays of the morning light. Soon her garden would be filled the sound of children at play as the servants try futilely to keep them in line. The thought brought a smile to her lips; if only such innocence could last forever. These children would play without a care in world, the idea of responsibility far from their bright young minds. Let them play, she thought to her self with a pang of regret. If only her own childhood had been so -free.

Turning away from the carefree world below her she returned to her bed chamber where the royal tailor was fussing over her new dress. Taking a bit of the fabric in her hand she rubbed it between her fingers and along her arms; it felt wonderful. Silk, they called it, hard to believe such divine material came from a small worm. "It's exquisite."

"You will be the envy of all the woman in the kingdom you're majesty."

She regarded the tailor with a knowing smile. "And your coffers will no doubt grow because of it. Have I ever told you that you would make an excellent strategist?"

The man gave a short bow, replying with "my battles are fought in the commercial world."

"Your victories are well earned. The dress is indeed a masterpiece" -she said while looking it over, I would only change one thing about it."

The tailor, looking a bit wounded by her words stopped and almost reluctantly asked what she would change. It was a masterpiece, she said so herself. "Anything thing you want you're majesty."

"It is only a small change. I would split it from here to here, she said trailing her finger from the bottom of the dress to just below the point that would rest above her left thigh; I like freedom when I move."

The tailor did as instructed, at first believing he was destroying a great work, but when the queen tried it on his eyes filled with tears of of joy; he had truly outdone himself. "Magnificent! They won't be able to take their eyes off of you."

The queen thanked him with a smile then had him paid in gold. "I've instructed my servants to deliver twice the owed amount. Make me another dress like this one, a sleeveless version. You may take your leave now."

On her way out to the hall she grabbed a satin shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders. With her jewelry and courtly gait, she was the very picture of regal splendor.

>>><<<

The time for audiences had not yet arrived, but there was one whom had been waiting in the sitting room since before sunrise. Given the nature of this individual, the royal guard thought it prudent to send the creature in, if only to speed him on his way. Opening the door he announced. "The mongrel-folk, Adion Veris. you're majesty."

To her surprise the Veer didn't seem at all fazed by this, no doubt used to the way some humans regarded other species. This however, did not make the slight at all okay; the look she gave the guard was a dagger piercing his heart. The guard would be dealt with, but for now, the floor belonged to the Veer.

When the Veer finished his plea, Lynova stood from her throne and walked down to the kneeling creature. "Rise noble Veer, Veris; you have traveled far to seek my counsel. It is with heavy heart that say this, but there is little I can do to aid you in your quest. The song is not something that can be plucked from the air, therefore it can not be taken or hidden. The legend surrounding the song is a beautiful one, but in the end it is only that. The Song of Tyr, is what the scholars call a geological phenomena. The sound of the wind winding through the rocks was the source of the song. The recent earthquakes have misshapen the rocks and silenced the song. I can offer you only words, but I fear they will not be enough. I can no more change the whims of fate than I can the stars in the sky. These are troubling times my friend, but your people will persevere and overcome; and will be stronger for it."

There was nothing more that could be said, the Veer knew this as well, he bowed silently then took his leave.

When she returned to her throne, she saw that Mirra had entered during the audience; the young woman had a grieved look upon her face. "What will become of his people?" She asked.

"The Veer are a noble race and have treated the people of Tyr with great respect, even becoming their protectors. Without the song, they will grow restless and increasingly violent. They will, in their madness turn upon the people they once protected. War will follow. The Veer will overcome, but at great sacrifice."

The color had washed from Mirra's face and she needed to sit down. "Troubling times indeed."

Adion walked out of the room with a slight look like he had known something that the queen didn't. It was her mistake, but he had been rushed out before he could protest or correct. The scholars were right about how the shape of the tunnels affected the song, but there was more to it than that, as Adion had checked into the shape of the tunnels. The residents of Tyr said the quakes did nothing to the tunnels, and showed Adion down them. They were right, the tunnels stood as they had for millenniums. However, the very stone felt mundane, and the winds from the tunnels that made the noise suddenly stopped. To Adion it all added up.

The veer stood over the railing. He listened to many of the conversations of the humans. So few of them mentioned anything other than gold. To him, such priorities were only for governments.

Adion could tolerate the human race to a rather large extent. It was this natural tolerance that made him a prime choice when the veer needed someone for their mission. Adion would stay leaning over the railing until something would break him from his trance.

A small regiment of knights milled about the grounds outside the castle. They had been waiting since sun up for their commander and the captain. The knights spoke of their mission and and their doubts of its success; no one could get through to Tonule. The governor was as stubborn as a mule and twice as thick headed. The man had made it clear that Tonule was sovereign land; a kingdom in its own right. There were four among the knights that did neither of these things, they stood like statues displaying no emotion; like dolls dressed in armor.

>><><<

Dalmar entered the throne room wearing the dark armor he'd become known for, his captain's cape flowing in the wake of his stride. When he reached the throne, he took a knee and saluted his queen. "Preparations are complete You're Majesty. I will return victorious." Standing back up he nodded to Mirra. "Milady," he said, before turning around, heading for the exit. Despite being raised in courtly manner, he found the whole process tedious. What was the point of useless ceremony. Why couldn't he just pop his head in and say he was leaving. Better yet, why announce it at all? They knew what his mission was, if he and his knights turned up missing, the reason would be obvious. To top it off, Ivagio, had to do the same thing. When he passed the commander in the hall he just rolled his eyes. "Formalities."

Throngs of people greeted him when he left the castle. Soon they would crowd the Great Hall, anticipating their audience with the queen. As he observed the gathering, he saw the poor and grieved, the angered and the joyful and then there were the ones who were clearly there for the pure spectacle of it all. These were the people watchers. They could care less about seeing the Queen, no, it was the people that interested them. Look at the idiots fawning over and pining for her majesty. Though he hated to admit it, were he in the same situation, he'd probably be one of the spectators. The most entertainment would come from the angered, they always did something stupid, like attempting to attack the Queen. Nothing like seeing a fool put in their place.

The city was an abundance of activity, always busy, but today was Audience Day, which meant tourists and by extension, greater wealth. The purpose of such a day is to give people a voice and to fill the coffers of of the local shops. The money would help businesses grow and keep Volstack prosperous. All manner of shops and stalls lined the streets filled with trinkets and baubles. The air was filled with a cacophony of smells; a mixture of spice and local cuisine. One of the more interesting additions to the city were the Venting Tents. These temporary structures were erected for the sole purpose of airing the grievances of those unable to gain an audience and those simply not brave enough to stand before the Queen. The city was busy, crowed and noisy. Thank the gods this day only came once a cycle.

When he reached the waiting knights, Dalmar, walked over to his horse and gave it a pat. Trevelyan was a fine steed, a war horse bred for speed and endurance and as black as the night. With the Knight Captain in the saddle they were an intimidating pair. Looking at the men, he could see they were eager to get moving. The knights regarded the captain with nervous stares and a salute. The men claimed that he had an overwhelming presence about him that changed with his mood. Right now the captain was slightly annoyed, so they kept their distance; each hoping Ivagio would arrive so they could be under way.

Adion did not waver more than to turn around as people entered the throne room. If it weren't for the tired and slow look of the veer, he would have been an intimidating sight, the mass of fur and muscle. Instead, he looked more like an old man who has wisdom to spare.

After each person entered the throne room, Adion resumed his position on the railing. He had overheard the knights, but had ignored them, until he noted four who were like statues. They had all the right scents to be living, but the beast couldn't figure out why they didn't move. Were they suffering from what has plagued the Tyr underground?

So many thoughts ran threw Adion's head till one seemed to stick. Someone or something stole the magic of the stone. There was no gentle decline in volume of the song, or more trouble for the residents of Tyr to sing their song until the day it all went away. That could be the only answer. It had to be.

Adion knew that the queen would not help him. She was stuck in her belief that it was all something to do with the tunnels moving. Something that Adion knew never happened. He needed a different help. Maybe if he visited the church, he could ask the humans' gods. The spirits and the god of rest were not strong enough to do anything other than to tell Adion that the answer lied beyond Tyr.

Thus, Adion began his walk to the local church.

They decided to meet on the last day of the week, She'd said she would bring lunch, and he was excited for that. He had not had a home cooked meal in a long time..

He woke that morning with a lift in his step. Going about his morning ritual, while softly humming a tune he vaguely remembered his father singing to him. He had said it was one of his mothers favorites, not that Jack would know if it really had been or not, but that is what he'd been told.

The sun was rising higher into the sky, and normally he would have been at work already. This day was different however. A knock, and the soft scent of lavender drew his eyes to the door, and made his stomach clench. Odd that, he definitely was not nervous.

"Hello-" He said haltingly, stumbling somewhat over the words.

Then she smiled at him, and all nerves fled his body. "Good morning!" She replied brightly. "Ready to go?" She was wearing another dress, like the one from before, but this one was green, printed with golden ivy, and a wide hat of the same coloring. The green of the dress, and the gold of the ivy making her hair and eyes stand out. A basket was grasped by both hands.

"I- " He started, having to swallow heavily as the words got caught in his throat, She tilted her head to the side quizzically. The look too cute on her face, and he could feel heat coming to his face in his embarrassment. "Yes, yes I am ready." He said closing his door as he stepped out and began walking side by side. "Can I, that is to say. Would you like me to carry that for you?" Nodding towards the basket as he spoke those words.

"Please and thank you!" She replied, happily handing over what he assumed was their lunch for the day. Clapping her hands together, she leaned in to his view slightly. "I didn't know what you liked so I made a little of everything!" It felt like it too. The basket must have weighed a few pounds.

<<<>>>

It was only a short walk to the stairs leading on to the wall from his home. They made it there quickly, pleasant conversation carrying them easily that distance, they knew each other well enough their was no awkward silences.

"This is it." He said. Stopping at a spot near the middle of that portion of the wall, the lake clearly visible, with the sun playing across it's surface in golden lines, it played across her skin also. Making the alabaster almost glow in the sunlight, and the green of her eyes almost seemed to shine.

"It's beautiful~,"She breathed, her tone of voice made pride spread through him, and he replied grinning. "I'm glad you approve."

"Here, hand me that." She spoke, taking the basket from him and spreading a blanket on the stone surface of the wall. "This is the perfect place for a picnic. I can't believe I've never been up here!" She was happy, that by itself made the day for him. She set the varied dishes out onto the blanket, passing guards giving Jack envious looks every time they passed by. He could understand why.

"It's not too much is it?" She asked him, probably seeing his stunned face. "No-, no it's just, I am amazed." he breathed, chuckling out the last three words with a grin, as he set himself gently to the ground, facing the lake and the sun. She hesitated for a moment then, but finally settled right next to him, as close as decency would allow and began to serve them both. They sat like that, eating, and speaking occasionally, the sun still in the sky, the day beautiful for some time. Enjoying each others company, Jack basked in it all. He without even realizing it had been becoming a recluse, and it was nice.

So of course, something would have to ruin it.

After Dalmar had left, one of the knights leaned over and asked, “I thought you two didn't like each other?”

Ivagio took another drink before saying, “We don't.” Then he added, with a look towards Tamlyn, “Some things just trump rivalries.”

One beer later, Ivagio excused himself. Whatever plan Dalmar and the Queen decided on would be enacted the next morning. A plan that he should be helping to form. However, he was not summoned to this emergency planning session. Not even notified of it happening. He only knew of it because of Dalmar's behavior.

The man was not as stiff and reserved as you might expect of, the “son” of the queen. There was no reason for him to have merely “dropped by” the tavern for a single drink unless he had somewhere else to be. And on the eve of their “visit” to Tonul, there was no other explanation than an emergency meeting. Especially after that report on the walls.

No wonder the citizens of Tonul were such cocky little bastards.

He'd considered joining the meeting anyway, but quickly dismissed the idea. The Queen wasn't fond of people dropping by unexpectedly, let alone unwantedly. Even if that person was the commander of her armies.

If she wanted him to be there, or his opinion on something, she would let him know.

The beers be damned, he needed to relieve some stress.

With a flick of his fingers a rift in front of him opened and he stepped into the archery training grounds.

He quickly collected a practice bow and a quiver of arrows, then stepped up to the range and readied his bow. He drew the arrow back and sighted down the shaft. He released.

Thwang!

The arrow embedded dead center in the target.

He nocked another arrow and drew it back. This was what he needed. Something simple, repetitive, but requiring focus to take his mind off the mission tomorrow.

Thwang!

The mission he, as the commander of Her Majesties army, should be leading. Not Dalmar.

Thwang!

Dalmar, who until recently had been under his command.

Thwang!

But was given a new position, one that hadn't existed before.

Thwang!

One that outranked him.

Thwang!

He, who had been serving her loyally for the better part of two decades.

Thwang!

Who had not blinked when told he needed to hunt down-

This was not helping.

With a sigh he set the bow down next to the half empty quiver. He was going to need a clear head in the morning. He walked back to his quarters, removed his hat and cape, then sat cross legged in the exact center of the room and began to meditate.

* * *
* * *

“Lord Ivagio! Lord Ivagio!”

Ivagio blinked. It seemed it was morning. And he was running late. He closed his eyes and took a long deep breath before standing from his place on the floor. He put on his cape and donned his hat then opened the door.

The page step backed, shocked, “My Lord-”

“I know.”

He usually didn't like to use his power to skip such short distances, it made him feel lazy, but he needed to make up time. Today of all days was not a day to be late.

He crossed three floors and the length of a parade ground in a single step.

He turned the corner into the hall leading to the throne room just as Dalmar left it.

“Formalities,” he muttered with an eye-roll as they passed.

Ivagio was addressed by the Queen as soon as he entered the throne room, “You're a hard man to find Ivagio.”

“My apologies, your Majesty,” he said as he knelt before her, “I was meditating and lost track of time.”

“I see.” she said with an almost unnoticeable smile. “Are you and your men prepared?”

“They should be.”

“Should be?” she asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“The orders were given. I have not had the opportunity to check on them however.”

“Because you were meditating.”

“It was a deep meditation, your Majesty.”

“It must have been. What could have caused you to need such meditation?”

… “The walls, your Majesty.”

“Ah. Yes. Worry no longer over the walls Ivagio, Lord Dalmar has devised an ingenious means of overcoming them.”

“This is welcome news.”

“Yes, now hurry. The troops await your arrival to depart.”

“Yes your Majesty,” he said and stood then turned to leave.

“Oh, one last thing.”

“Yes?”

“I'd like you to pay close attention to Lord Dalmar. I think you will see why I place such faith in him.”

The Grand Cathedral, the symbol of a bygone era; when men still worshiped the the Old Gods. The majestic building, with its high spires, stained windows and impressive sculptures was little more than a tourist spot now, a landmark visited by the curious and a map point for directions. Father Lucius, (a title for appearance only) walked its isles with a sense of wonder. He was a scribe, charged with educating people on tour and keeping the place 'authentic', a curator if you will. The time he spent looking at the murals, reading the ancient text and studying rights, had made him quite the expert, but when it came to actual spiritual guidance, witch did happen from time to time, he was at a loss for he knew not what to say. On any given day, the cathedral was filled with wide eyed citizens from other regions and locals who just wanted some peace. Today however, it was empty; why take the time to learn about the Old Gods, when they could get their answers from the Queen? She was wise, powerful and strikingly beautiful; she was also 500 cycles old, more than enough to qualify her as a goddess.

Lucius was looking at the mural of creation when, to his surprise, the entrance began to slowly creak open. A bestial form stood in the doorway and for moment his heart leapt into his throat. When the door closed and the light from outside faded he saw a rather frail looking Veer. The fact that there was a Veer, a race seldom seen within the city standing before him was surprise enough, but the look in the creature's eyes were what really made him stand out. Here was a creature looking for answers, a lost soul on a journey of great importance, one whose desperation lead him here to commune with 'Human Gods; for guidance. Poor Lucius was ill equipped to handle such a situation, knowledgeable as he was, words like 'the gods work in mysterious ways' or 'we all have to go through darkness before we reach the light,' would be no help to this poor soul. Still, he couldn't turn him away. If this were a real place of worship, all would be welcome.

"Come in my child, what is it that troubles you this day?"

The curator's heart sank when Adion Veris recounted his tale. It was truly heartbreaking; what the Veer and the people of Tyr must be going through. What could he possibly say to ease this creatures pain? What could anyone say? Without thinking he gently placed his hand on the Veer's shoulder. "When answers are difficult to find we must look beyond our selves; pray with me." He didn't know why he did it. Was it instinct, an impulse to bring comfort to this way-word soul, was it to keep up appearances? No. It was something much more, something he couldn't put into words, something lost long ago. As he spoke the words, "Gods, hear our call. We come to you in an hour of need; humble servants seeking guidance-" a chill ran down his spine and the hair on his arms stood on end. His words seemed to be charged with power and an image formed in his mind.

Lucius' piercing blue eyes shot open and his thin mustache twitched following the contours of his lips which now parted into a brilliant smile. "Wait here!" He said unable to contain his enthusiasm, I'll be right back." With that said he rushed to one of the back rooms where were stored many tomes, but the tome he sought was not among them, no it was hidden, long forgotten until this very day, when it would once again see the light of day. Pushing the bookcase away from the wall, there it was, the notch in the floor just like the image in his mind. Placing two fingers into the notch, he was able to lift, (with a great deal of effort) the floor plate free. There within the space lay a burgundy satchel wrapped in golden rope and bearing the Seal of Maximilian, the Great Sage.

Lucius returned to the patiently waiting Veer with a stack of papers in his arms. He set them on the pew the creature was resting in then blurted out, "this is it! This is what I saw in my vision!" Rifling though the pages he found the one he was looking for then placed on top of the stack. "The silence of Tyr... The Great Sage wrote about this very plight! But, yours is not the only one my friend; all of Etriny is suffering or will be soon." The curator didn't even stop to take a breath; his excitement on the verge of lunacy as he continued. "You must return home my friend. Beneath the mountains of Tyr, there is an ancient labyrinth of tunnels. At its center is a wondrous grove of life and harmony. Here you will find what you seek." Calming down, he took on a more somber tone. "The journey will not be easy. It is quite perilous; the tunnels are filled with traps and beasts of nightmarish make. 'Trust your heart and remain true and you will make it through.' Or so the saying goes."

As he continued to search the pages he he found that all the provinces had such a grove. Velmon's was deep within the dense forest, Jotun's lost beneath the ice, Mistral's high atop the mountain, above the clouds. The sea held such a grove within the province of Krestmere, Tonule's could be found by climbing the fallen tower within the swamp, an area overrun by the Drakk. Volstack's grove was hidden within the lava flows, while Alzeran's could only be found using a celestial marking. A time would come when all would have to be found.

It was difficult to take his eyes away from the findings, but he was being quite rude to his guest. "My apologies Adion Veris, it's just so much to take in. I fear, in your current condition, this journey will be nigh impossible. If only there was something I could do to ease your suffering... Hang on I might- Wait right here. I'll be right back."

Off he went again to the back rooms rummaging through drawers until he found what he was looking for. A moment later he came back with small bag with hemp tied around it. "Brew this with hot water in a cup and drink it down. It will soothe your body and calm your spirit. Sleep will come easy for you and you will wake rejuvenated. It can used three times before its potency diminishes. I want to thank you my friend. Your arrival this day has restored in me something lost when I was child. I can not thank you enough for helping me find it. Sleep here today, at the cock's crow you can begin your journey anew."

When Adion first saw the Grand Cathedral, he saw it a wonder of architecture and beauty. When he entered, he saw a place of lost hopes and ruined pasts, but now he saw hope, written on every moral. A hope that was started by those who built the building. It was a unique feeling, having hope after going without it.

When Lucius began to talk about the tunnels beneath Tyr, only two words came out of Adion's mouth, "The Deep." This was a veer term for the deeper parts of the tunnels, the parts that few venture for fear of injury. The picture was now clear to him, the magic came from the deep's center, it then traveled through the stone, then the magic made wind and imbued the singers with their voices, and finally the songs were sung. Such realizations were big, as veer tended to leave big to instincts.

Taking the sleeping agent, Adion said "Thank you." And as with anytime he spoke, the words came out rough, but the grammar and pronunciation was perfect. So, Adion would follow Lucius's immediate instructions to the letter.

Adion slowly rose from the place he had taken to sleeping. The white of his muzzle was no more, replaced with a youthful black fur. He could feel his magic coming back, but it was not yet to him. When he looked out the nearest way outside, he noted that it was the crack of dawn, when the sky shows off its truest beauty. It sent the beast into awe as the colors slowly danced about the clouds.

The only other thought that invaded Adion's mind was a simple phrase, "In The Deep, he shall find salvation." It kept repeating like a bad song, or an unforgettable image. Something about it bothered the veer, yet he didn't know why.

“Move more quietly, you’re scaring everything off,”

“Oh!” Ashyl covered her mouth quickly and whispered something.

“Good job. Now even I can’t hear you,” Maxilith responded sarcastically, keeping his eyes aimed towards the ground. He’d expected the young woman to return home when he ventured into the town to run errands, but she insisted on following him to find more bugs for Emi and Sato.

“Sorry” She whispered again after removing her hands.

“You didn’t have to come, you know. Wildlife is scarce enough close to town without someone stomping about,” He muttered, not caring whether she heard.

“Is everything really so scarce? We’ve seen plenty of bugs since we came out here…” She asked. Maxilith sighed and crouched down to inspect an area closer- part of him wondered whether it wouldn’t be better to return later when it was darker. Those bugs were easier to find, but the animals that awaken during the night have been on edge lately…

“Maxilith?”

“Oh, sorry…” Ashyl snapped him from his thoughts, “And yes, it’s hard for someone like you to notice because you don’t venture out so much. But think about the town’s economics lately,”

“What do economics have to do with animals?” Ashyl seemed confused. She acted so young sometimes, it was hard to believe their age gap was only a few years…

“Your town depends on the surrounding environment to sustain itself. Many people in your town deal in the goods of the forest- herbs, meats, wood. Now, what have you noticed about local trade in such goods lately,” Maxilith stood and began to explain.

“Well… the butcher seems to have less meats lately… and Miss Viviana’s herb prices have risen…” The dark-skinned young woman guessed.

“The butcher lacks stock because the hunters are having trouble catching anything healthy,” Maxilith answered, “The fore-“

“But how would the lack of animals affect an herb vendor?” She interrupted, clearly thinking very hard about the situation. She knew so much about how to read people and how to take care of them, but it seemed she hadn’t paid attention to much about economics and the world that didn’t involve the bread business… Maxilith let out a sigh for her small town’s schooling.

“If you’d let me finish,” He began again, “The hunters lack healthy animals to hunt because the forest lacks the health to provide for the creatures that live off of its plants. The forest is unwell, so the wildlife population has dropped. Many creatures have moved on in hopes of finding food elsewhere.”

“Okay… “ Ashyl was trying to follow, “But Miss Viviana grows most of her own herbs…”

“I think it’s not just in the plants themselves, but the soil as well,” Maxilith sat down on a large tree root and leaned back on the tree, “The forest itself is unwell, and that affects everything that grows within it. Even gardens like the herb vendor’s,”

Ashyl sat down as well, kneeling so she was sitting on her feet. She looked deep in thought over what the blonde young man had just told her and soon her eyes were exploring the flora beyond their current location.

“Wait… you called Hensma ‘your town’. You live there, too!” Her pensive look shattered into one of incredulity.

“I live more out here than in town, I thought you’d have caught that by now,” Maxilith sighed. She seemed perpetually concerned by his introverted lifestyle, and he could tell she was about to launch into another tirade about there being such a thing as ‘too independent’.

“But isn’t Hensma your home? You’ve been here for years…”

“I try not to get attached,”

“Don’t you like it here?”

“I like the forest; it’s peaceful here,”

“I meant, ‘don’t you like Hensma?’”

“Sure,” the response sounded insincere. He just wanted her to drop the idea already.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Why did she look so offended?

“What’s with the interrogation, Ashyl? It’s my own business whether I ever call that town ‘home’, got it?” He finally spoke up, his tone a little more irate than he’d originally intended. Ashyl was taken aback and her eyes fell to the ground.

“Sorry… I just get worried…”

“There’s nothing wrong with living alone, I’ve told you I’m just fine,” Maxilith responded firmly. There was a pause before the young woman spoke again.

“You just seem so lonely… no family living with you… and no home, either?” Maxilith shook his head.

“I’m not lonely. And just because I don’t consider Hensma my home doesn’t mean I don’t have one… I feel more at peace alone out here than I ever will in town. It’s just how I work,”

“Why’s that?” Why was she still prying? Maxilith sighed again; she was edging in on things he didn’t like talking about again.

“You’re prying into personal matters again, Ashyl,” The moment he said this, she got somewhat flustered.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I can stop; you don’t have to answer-“

“It’s fine,” Her speedy apology was halted and silence filled the forest again. Maxilith looked at her as she stared at her lap with a guilty look on her face. He knew her concern for him was genuine. She’d spent more than enough time with him to know something was up- like I said before, she was good with people. This wasn’t the first time she’d tried to get him to be honest with her- in fact, one time he’d gotten really angry with her for it. During the apology period, she agreed to step back if he told her she was pushing too much. And she’d been true to it.

He wasn’t sure if it was the look on her face, or the peace of being in the forest, but he finally decided to speak up.

“I don’t feel comfortable in town or cities because there are too many people,” Ashyl looked up, clearly not sure how to respond.

“The last place I lived… I was there for a long time… I met very few people who gave me pleasant experiences,”

“So… what you’re saying is… you don’t like people?” She seemed a little hurt.

“Not so much as they make me uncomfortable most of the time… Don’t worry about it, though. You seem to be okay,” She seemed to brighten up a little after the blonde said that.

“I can’t help but wonder what you were like before that…” Ashyl thought aloud.

“I wonder sometimes, too… “ Maxilith drew his knees closer to his chest so he could rest his arms on them.

“Don’t you remember?”

“Most of it, no… when I really think about it, I can push through the bad to get vague imagery of life before the city… but none of it is enough to make it worth dwelling on. I’m a different person now, and that can’t be helped,”

((trigger warning? A memory of Maxilith's abuse about to occur...))

“Oh, Max! Max come here!” He heard the call come from the void and it inspired urgency. She was calling.

“Just a moment, I’m coming,” the call was sent to assure her he heard.

“I said COME HERE! I need you for something!” She didn’t want to be kept waiting. Her voice was filled with anticipation….

“I’m hurrying” The reply came quickly. Maxilith moved into the room to see her, holding something in her hand, holding a gleam of something in her eyes. “What is it?”

“Come HERE and just stay still,” She insisted. There was a blur of red, curly hair and she was behind him. The door was closed and likely locked. The object in her hand was a blade- a knife-a scalpel. Maxilith felt fear rising in him.

“M-mistress, please be careful with that knife…” He muttered. She drew closer. And suddenly he was in her shadow.

“Don’t tell me what to do, I’m just going to do a little practice.” The gleam in her eyes was now a sinister spark. The heat of intimidation was closing in, just as his fingers and back closed in on a wall. The blade was drawing closer, too. The shining blade- it was bit big for a precision instrument… should it be that big?

“Wh-what kind of practice?” He had a sinking feeling as the sharp edge inched closer to his face. Please don’t say magic. Please don’t mention magic. His body was shaking.

No. No.

“I started learning healing magic today, and you’re gonna be my practice doll again, kay?” Magic. Healing magic. The blade felt cold against his face. He couldn’t draw his eyes down low enough to see it against his cheek. Eyes wide he met the intense gaze that was now so close, but only a second. Too intense- that spark in them. His gaze threatened to strike against it. It would burn him.

No. No! NO! Fight back!

“But Mistress, I-I don’t need to be healed… Please don’t-” His words were cut off as he sucked in his breath- almost like a hiss. Pressure to the blade. To his skin. She was going to make wounds to practice with.

FIGHT BACK! Stop her!

“Oh, Max, it shouldn’t hurt that badly,” The tone reeked of sweet glee and poison. It was altogether too innocent to belong to the hand that held the blade that had pierced his skin. Blood had been drawn.

Stop it! STOP IT! NO!

Pain burned red in his cheek and it bled outward, washing the scene with crimson stain. Red curly haired mistress. Red spark in her selfish eyes. Red blade in her fingers with fingernails painted red. His own skin and clothing and hand, red. All red in a radiating veil of pain that could be ignited to a crescendo at any moment by the spark in her eyes.

“Don’t be a baby, Max,” her voice cooed. Violet washed over her hand and soothed into a deep blue within Maxilith’s cheek. Only her smile didn’t move as the words and sounds issued forth. The boy’s legs threatened to give way, but her magic had closed the cut on his cheek. Still her grin did not fade.

“Now what did I say?” The blade caressed his skin. It dwelt there for longer than seemed necessary, as if she was trying to make him break. If he did, would the color of the scene change? Nonetheless, he could not cease the quivering in his lip no more than he could wash the red from his surroundings.

“Do I need to give you a reason to cry?” pressure was applied to the blade.

“No!” NO. But he flinched.

“I wonder… should I test how the healing spell works on a more… intense wound?” His eyes widened. What more did she want?
What had he done wrong?
What did I do wrong?

“No, please no. Mistress, just tell me what I did wrong. I swear I’ll never- AAAGH!” He pleaded until the blade again plunged into his cheek. The red in the scene, every last bit of it, ignited in an instant. The suddenness of it caused Maxilith to cry out, and he could hear his mistress calling from beyond the veil of agony for him to quiet as the blade was removed from his cheek.

“Suck it up, I’ll fix it in a second.” The veil of red did not left. He could feel himself breathing heavily, feel the sobs cause shudders in his chest. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he held a hand over his wounded cheek to shield the open skin from falling salty tears. Sounds of pages turning entered his ears – his mistress sought to repair her doll.

But soon the sounds of paper faded. His breathing and sobbing seemed louder. It was louder. The scene was darker except for the blood between his fingers and the coolness of the wooden wall behind him.

A cold wooden wall? No, it was stone now. And the red was gone now; save for the liquid color oozing from Maxilith’s cut. Finding the strength to stand, he found the veil had lifted to reveal a stone corridor- a smooth, arched corridor where the arches came up to a point at their peak. Violet now dominated the scene. The cold stone was slick and controlled, and down at the end of the corridor was a window.

His hand fell from his cheek and red dripped from the fingers to the previously immaculate stone floor. The distance between himself and the window closed. Curtains already drawn back, he glimpsed a flag, a war banner, flying outside. And there were several more below among rows and rows of shadowy figures clad in armor. The interspersed flags looks like tiny willow-the-wisps hovering over the army. Another drop of Maxilith’s blood fell to the ground, meeting not stone, but soil. The structure Maxilith had been standing in had disappeared, leaving him on a hilltop to observe the army marching away.

The wind picked up and his vision blurred again, filtered with gray flecks of static that pulsed over imagery of the landscape. With each pulse, the color of each image faded, but he soon began to recognize the imagery. He became anchored to one spot when his hand brushed against tree bark. Maxilith was in his forest, though the grey filter remained, making the familiar setting altogether more unnerving.

Taking a look at the tree he’d just hit his hand on revealed that the bark was dark and black. And inside was a large knot hole in which something had made its home. The creature peaked out of its hole just long enough to make eye contact with Maxilith- long enough for it to see the human and flee, and long enough for Maxilith to see how unhealthy the poor thing looked. It darted from the knot hole on four legs and dashed into the brush. The blonde made to follow as best he could; it would have been impossible had he not spent so much time in these woods.

Before he knew it, he saw the creature had led him into the center of the town, Hensma. Maxilith stood frozen, surveying a scene of a familiar place now abandoned. The homes that weren’t burned were boarded up and plants had begun to take over.

What happened?!

“I’ve figured it out!” The voice of his old mistress filtered into his ears and the veil of red began to overtake his vision again. He was going back? No…

“Maxilith!” he heard another voice call his name as the veil began to reveal his old mistress’s study. As the blood began to trickle again from his cheek.

“Maxilith!” The voice called again. He recognized the voice… “What about Hensma? Isn’t this town your home, too?” The voice belonged to Ashyl.

So she’s trying to protect me from myself now, too?

“Maaaax~!” His mistress called. Searing red was followed by a soothing violet.

“Maxilith!” Ashyl’s voice called again.

“Oh, Max!”

“Maxilith!”

Stop…

“Max, I’ve gotten rather good at magic and it’s all thanks to you…” The mistress chimed.

“Maxilith, come home!” Ashyl called out in earnest.

Stop it. Shut up, please! His head was beginning to ache. Hot red made a trail down his cheek to his neck. Eyes clenched tight, Maxilith lifted his hands to his ears.

“…my favorite practice doll~”

“Wake. Up!”
----------------------

Maxilith awoke with a start, letting out a loud cry as he shot into a sitting position. He was shaking. He blinked a few times, for fear of the world’s coloring going askew again. For final confirmation that he’d truly awoken, he lifted a hand to touch the scar on his cheek- the end result of the memories he’d just relived. The dream had ended, and it had been the worst dream he’d had in a long time.

“It was just a dream…” He muttered emptily to himself. He’d lied down here, close to his home, after talking with Ashyl earlier to make up some of the sleep he’d lost the night before and gotten way more than he’d bargained for. Moving forward was not simple here. That vivid dream left him terrified and confused. The visions had been unique for once, as well. Imaginings on top of memories. His hands clenched and unclenched nervously, trying to fight off the urge to shake. What were those visions? A normal dream woven into his usual nightmares? What happened to the forest? To Hensma?

Suddenly, he was gripped by the need to see the town himself, to make sure nothing had actually happened. Pushing himself to his feet, he thought that perhaps seeing that everything was normal here would further push the terrible dream from his mind.

It was a cool day. A peaceful day where the land itself exudes her beauty for all to see. It was at this day that Hadrian can be found walking towards the training grounds of his clan compound with three young initiates following close behind. He donned his armor, though his torso and back are left exposed to the cool air, and securely at his side was his trusty blade. He was humming a tune that was sung by his mother to comfort them when he and his sister were young. In his mind the tune was perfect for the time of day. The tune was serene and comforting enough to make one sigh in content. As he was humming, he turned his head to observe the three behind him.

Two of the three wore the standard outfits for warriors or fighters. Armor made with hardened leather with metallic studs adorning it. The basic round shields and short swords securely strapped at their backs and sides respectively. Nothing special but their eyes glow brightly with determination that pleased him greatly. The third, however, was different. The third strangely resembles a cleric. A holy man, from the robes to the prayer beads that hang by his side. He wondered whether he has to go easy on this one or not. But his subconscious screamed at him that this one has a trick or two hidden under the priestly robes.

The group reached the training grounds. Practice dummies line one side of the field, racks filled with practice weapons located at the other, targets for archery and knife-throwing were located at the farthest area of the field, a training post can be found near the entrance and a raised circular dirt arena is located at the center. The three initiates observed their surroundings as Hadrian walked towards the arena. He stood at the end of the arena just near the center before addressing the three. "Welcome to my clan's personal training grounds. Here you will be tested whether you receive the mark or not. You have trained hard for this very day and sacrificed your time and energy to be here today and receive your mark; but, in order for you to receive the mark you must simply knock me out of this arena." As he spoke these words, the three walked up and stood at the opposite end of the arena listening attentively to his challenge. Surprise, anticipation and a hint of fear were present within their eyes upon receiving their challenge. "You may use anything to achieve victory bar lethal means." He looked at them with cold, calculative eyes before unsheathing his claymore. "You may begin when I say...'start'"

Upon uttering those words the two warriors rushed towards him with their swords and shields at the ready. The first tried to do a horizontal slash while the other tried to thrust his blade at his side. Hadrian dodged the thrust and blocked the slash. He then kicked one of them on the stomach while he punched the other at the jaw with his left fist. Both staggered and stumbled back. "You have to do better than that!" His eyes widened slightly as he dodged two knives that almost landed on his shoulders. He turned to where the knives originated and was not surprised to see the so called "cleric" was in fact a rogue. His robes were open, revealing a multitude of throwing knives ready to be used against him. "I knew you were hiding something," he said coldly, "you seem so bulky with those knives on you." He rushed towards the rogues with his claymore, ready to deliver a vertical swipe. It never connected because one of the warriors intercepted his attack and signaled the other to take the opening before Hadrian could defend. The warrior charged towards Hadrian. He didn't have time to dodge, instead he kicked the warrior towards the rogue and gripped the blade with his fake hand. He channeled his magic to soften the blade and quickly snapped it in half, rendering the warrior's sword useless. The warrior's eyes widened in shock but before he could do anything his neck was held tightly by Hadrian. As his two companions got their bearings, Hadrian shook his head. "You three are pathetic! None of you could defeat me. Now your companion is my captive, a dead man now. So, what can you do now?" He slowly ran his blade at the warrior's right leg and arms drawing thin streams of blood. "Give up! I will spare your lives if you surrender and fail this test! Maybe I could spare this fools life as well if you surrender."

The two looked conflicted at the prospect but the captive warrior rasped, "Don't, don't give up for my sake. We're stronger than this and we ourselves prepared for this moment. Don't give in!"

Hadrian chuckled darkly, "Brave words of a dying fool." He slowly stabbed the warrior's right leg. The warrior tried to resist but the pain elicited a scream that escaped his clenched teeth. The two were greatly intimidated but they still held their weapons tightly. "We give up? I'm sorry sir," spoke the rogue, "but you taught us to continue fighting even if the situation is grim. Kill our companion and we'll still keep fighting. To the demons with your test and rules! We'll avenge our comrade and fight to the bitter end if we must!"

He stared at them for a moment. His cold, unforgiving eyes locked on to theirs. He slowly sighed and released the warrior from his grip before returning his blade to its scabbard. The warrior fell to his knees gripping his injuries to stem the blood flow. The two rushed for their downed comrade and stared at Hadrian with fear and determination. He knelt down in front of them. His eyes were warm and soft now, not like the cold and calculative glint when he fought them. "You stayed. Even if your comrade would face death, even if you would face failure, you stayed. For that alone you passed my test. You must never give up and never surrender. Your comrades are now your family and family must be defended at all cost. I am proud to see you three as a member of the Obscura Rosa." Their eyes widened in hearing his words. He slowly rose up and walked past them. Before opening the double doors he turned to looked at them. "The infirmary is at the west wing. Take the corridor to the left and then take the corridor to the right. Rest up for the next sunrise you will become bearers of the dark rose." He then left the three through the double doors.

-----||----------||----------||----------||----------||----------||----------||----------||----------||----------||----------||----------||-----

He walked briskly towards his personal chambers. His mind was in deep thought about the test he had done. He remembered the times when he too burned with such lofty determination and familial dedication. The time when life was good and peaceful. The time his family was whole and happy. But that determination and dedication shifted into ruthless determination and unwavering dedication. When his parents and a quarter of his clan were slaughtered. When his sister was kidnapped and traumatized. When he lost himself in vengeance and revenge. Now, he's confused. Confused of who he truly is and what he truly fight for. At first he did it all for his family. When they died he did it for revenge. But when he received his revenge he did it for his sister. But is it truly enough to shed so much blood for something others would consider trivial?

He thought these things as he entered his chambers. The chamber was filled with a collection of bookcases filled with tomes and scrolls. A wardrobe filled with his clothes can be found near the bookcases. A fireplace at the far side of the room. Red curtains hung from the windows and a fourposter bed at one side of the room with red and silver sheets and pillows. An armor rack can be found near the fireplace. A painting of himself and his sister depicting them in a noble manner hung above the fireplace. He slowly discarded his armor and placed them on the rack leaving himself bare. A knock was heard from his door accompanied by a soft feminine voice. "Brother, are you decent?"

"Just a moment, sister." He then went for his wardrobe and took out a pair of green trousers before opening the door. His twin, Lyalee Seraphina Angelos stood before him accompanied by one of her female guards. She was a female version of himself though she is shorter than him by seven inches. Long black spiky hair with white and red highlights which is tied in a low ponytail with a few locks of hair framing the sides of her face, deep purple eyes that resembles glittering amethyst gems. Tan skin, lean body with a little bit of visible muscle and perky breasts. On her left arm, a tattoo of black roses with gold tips can be seen with their thorny stems snaking around her arm up to her left shoulder, back, chest and neck. She looked normal discounting the fact that she has a fake eye. Her right eye was in fact a smooth round piece of sapphire held in place by a gold metal piece that resembles eyelids. The gem glows just like Hadrian's gauntlet and on the "eyelids" the family motto was inscribed. She was currently wearing her sleepwear intent on joining her brother for his daily naps. "What bring you here sister," Hadrian asked, "I thought you are still at the palace at this moment?"

"I just got back, my beloved brother. May I come in?" Hadrian nodded and stepped aside for her to enter before closing his door, leaving the guard outside. When the doors closed Lyalee enveloped her brother in a tight hug. "I missed you brother." Hadrian returned the hug with a warm chuckle. "It's only been a day, sister." She looked up at him and pouted. "I don't care. I still miss you." They stayed in each others arms for a moment before Hadrian disconnected and brought her to his bed where they sat at the edge of said bed. "So, what news do have for me" Hadrian asked as he held his sister's hand with his fake one. "Something interesting happened at the Queen's Court, brother. A Veer, named Adion Veris, came to the queen and asked for assistance in locating the Song of Tyr." Hadrian looked at her while raising an eyebrow. The Song of Tyr was considered a myth by many. To those that believed it, it is difficult to retrieve. "Did the Queen granted the Veer assistance?" His sister shook her head. This caused him to sigh. Deep down he knew that majority of the court would not give their support. Most could not believe that the song can be located but these people were too set in their notion of thinking. "What else has happened, my dear sister?" She leaned in closer resting her head on his shoulder. "The lords are preparing something, my dear brother. Troops are being mobilized as we speak in a campaign for Tonule. Forgive me, the exact details are currently unknown." He nodded, "It's alright, my little rose. Who is leading the campaign?" She looked at him and said, "According to my contacts Lord Dalmar with the assistance of Lord Ivagio would lead the campaign." He nodded once again. Two powerful lords under the service of the Queen leading a campaign. The Dark Lord of legend and the Lord of Alzeran. That might be a recipe for disaster or success he thought grimly.

"What are your plans brother?" She asked him as she stood up nearing the door. "Contact our agents and every member of the Obscura Rosa. Find the Veer and offer him our assistance. Tell them to bring him here if he accepts. Lethal and harmful force is highly discouraged. We would want a peaceful encounter with a noble race of Tyr." She nods before looking back at him. "The campaign?" He lied down on his bed resting his arm over his eyes. "Nothing. We'll just have to wait and see." She nodded again and turned back towards the door. She opened the door and whispered her orders to the guard to contact the members of the Obscura Rosa with explicit orders to locate the Veer, named Adion Veris, and offer their assistance in his quest immediately. She also told the guard to bring Adion to their compound as well without resorting to violence. After receiving confirmation to her orders, she closed the door and walked towards her brother. She climbed on her brother's bed and rested her head on his chest while wrapping her arms around his waist. She sighed in content and joined her brother in his sleep.

"Legend has it that the world was once a desolate land devoid of life. The lush plains, dense forest, high peaks & mountains all came to be by the will of the gods. Even the sea is of their making. The gods; formless and of ethereal nature govern the Nine elements. Combing these elements gave birth to our world. It is said that they once communed with Man, in the form of Divine Creatures called Dragons. Now when I say Dragons, it is not to be confused with the creatures we call dragons. Beasts such as the Wyrm, Wyvern and Drake are nothing more than animals, albeit very large ones, but animals all the same.

Dragons are something else entirely, it is a form taken by those that are greater than us. A form that is Awesome to behold and commands reference. They speak to our hearts and minds and are the incarnation of Wisdom, Knowledge and Power. It is said that they aid the worthy in times of great strife, but who among us is worthy? Many have tried to gain their favor, communing with them in the Sacred Groves; none have returned- for to undergo the trial of the gods is a fools folly. Yet I have seen the trials in visions and they will be overcome." Maximilian- Great Sage of Elysium.



The thundering sound of horses broke the quiet stillness as the sun began its journey below the horizon. Coming to a halt the knights beheld the sight before them; it was a grand structure indeed, an imposing one at that. A raven black horse led the group, in its saddles sat the captain, a handsome silver haired man with armor as dark as his steed. After dismounting Dalmar looked around the area. The air was heavy, but not quite as heavy as their journey through the swamp. As he suspected, the presence of Ivagio and the other knights kept the Drakk at bay, making their trip somewhat uneventful. Turning his gaze away from the swamp, he turned toward the city. The walls were perhaps a little higher than he expected, but if all went to plan there would still be very little collateral damage and if the people were willing to listen; zero casualties.

At the shore of the lake stood small marble stone structure with a great wooden spoked wheel attached to it- the mechanism for raising the submerged bridge. As he walked over to the wheel, four knights appeared behind him. They, like their captain, wore blackened armor, but unlike the other knights present their faces showed no emotion, no sign of life at all. The wheel was old, but in good shape and with a good deal of effort he was able to turn it, despite its groaning protest.

>>>><><<<<

In small dimly lit room sat a mahogany desk, a quill and parchment with a half finished letter lay on its smooth surface; a masterwork by the craftsman and one the owner took great pride in. In fact he took great pride in all his possessions and accomplishments. All were earned through the sweat of hard work. His father, a craftsman by trade instilled in him a hardy work ethic and a will to protect his own; be they possessions or people. "Take pride in all that you survey and never take for granted, that which you are blessed with." A saying he by his late father was quite fond and one he took to heart. Like most denizens of Tonule, the city was his life and life outside the walls hardly mattered. It didn't stop from venturing out into the world, or those from seeking refuge within.

Stroking his short gray beard he stood looking out the window dreaming of days gone by. Perhaps it was the beautiful dusk sky or the silhouettes having a picnic atop the wall. Ah to be young and in love. It reminded him of his own exploits upon the wall. It was a popular hangout, but this evening the two on the hall were lucky enough to have the whole section to themselves. He smiled as the feminine silhouette stood, she appeared to be pointing at something, no doubt some Drakks milling about on the other side of the lake. Turning from the window he returned to his desk and picked up the quill.

Governor Louis! Governor Louis!" The door burst open and in stepped one of his aides. "Sir, the bridge is being raised!" His quill hit the the parchment, adding to it an unwanted mark, but the Governor didn't notice. He just sat there staring at his aide. "Sir, what should we do?"

Returning to his senses Louis interlocked his fingers, resting his elbows on the desk. "Calm down Tomlin. They tried many times in the past, what makes you think this time will be any different? Think about it. If the queen wanted us destroyed, she would have done so her self cycles ago. The land holds value. As long as we are protected by these walls, we have nothing to fear."

"Of course sir."

As the two contemplated how best to handle the situation an arrow zipped through the window lodging itself into the wall. The sound startled both of them, and both were more than a little surprised to see a missive attached to the shaft. Taking the note, the aide read it aloud.



Governor Louis stared incredulously at the note in Tomlin's hands, then at the window from which the message arrived. "That is one hell of a shot," he finally said with genuine praise. "No normal archer made that. Summon Vivian, I will meet with this Lord Dalmar."

"Right away sir, but if you don't mind my asking- How can the two of you speak at such distance?"

The Governor stood up, straitened his burgundy studded doublet, grabbed his feathered cap and set it firmly upon his head. "Amplification, Tomlin, amplification."

>>>><><<<<

Dalmar stood at the end of the bridge and gave out a long whistle. "Excellent shot Ivagio!" Though they couldn't see over the wall, if the map was indeed accurate then Ivagio's shot aided with a Guidance Spell was truly remarkable. "Now we wait."

They didn't have to wait long, for not a moment later the governor appeared upon the wall, with a woman at his side. When they reached an observation point the woman began to weave a spell around the governor. When she finished, he spoke normally, but all could hear him. "Well, I am here as you asked. Now what do you want?"

"Amplify." The command was followed as one of the stone faced knights placed his hand on the captain's shoulder. Crossing his arms Dalmar began to speak in a diplomatic tone. "Greetings governor. I wish to negotiate trade. These are troubling times and many are suffering. People need food and our reports say you have more than enough. A tenth of your crops and cattle are to be distributed to the provinces of Mystril and Krestmere."

Governor Louis looked to his arcanist. "That sounded like a demand."

"It was."

"What are the terms of this negotiation?"

"They are quite simple governor. Comply or be annexed."

"That sounded like ultimatum."

Vivian smiled. "It was. I think I like this man."

"I'm sorry sir knight, but your reports were wrong. We have all that we need; no more, no less. Giving even a tenth of our crop would take much needed food from my own peoples mouths."

Dalmar shook his head. "I see. In these troubling times we all must make sacrifices."

"Your kingdom is suffering, because your queen wills it. If she truly wanted to help her people she would. I will not have one of her envoys tell me what to do. I protect my people and I will continue to do so by not allowing your bully tactics to continue. I'm done, return to your queen and tell her that we are Sovereign. Leave us alone!"

Dalmar uncrossed his arms as he walked back to the shore. "That went well, don't you think?" He said to Ivagio; he didn't appear amused. Turing toward the Kingdom City he spoke to all. "People of Tonule, I wish no harm upon you. I offer this one and only warning; leave the wall or fall with it."

>><><<

Governor Louis was walking down the steps to street level with Vivian at his side. "That sounded like a threat."

"No. It was a promise."

"Come now, you do not honestly believe..."

"I don't know what to believe, but I have a very bad feeling. I think we should do as he says. Get everyone off the wall."

When they reached the street they saw a black and gray haired man trying to catch his breath. "Xanthom, what are you doing here?"

"I came as soon as I heard it was Dalmar. Governor, you should have listened to him."

Louis placed his hand on the old man's shoulder. "Not you too my friend. Just who is this Dalmar anyway?"

"I learned a long time ago not to underestimate him. I've never known him to fail and- things happen around him. I can't really explain it."

"I see. Very well, get everyone off the wall; just to be safe, but there is nothing to fear."

Before the order was given a commotion could be heard at the top of wall. "It's frozen! The entire lake is frozen!"

<<<>>>

Dalmar stood up from his kneeling position wresting his sword from the frozen lake. Pointing to specific points along the wall he instructed the four knights to take their positions. With a long stride and brisk pace he began his trek across the ice field. When he reached the wall he could see a few guards staring down at him. They appeared to be awestruck by the sight of the lake. Fools he thought as he placed his right hand upon the wall.

"Burn."

An intense heat consumed the wall changing its color to that of iron fresh out of the fire. The guards that were still upon the wall screamed as their bodies were engulfed in flames. A chorus of screams could be heard on the other side as the people watched in horror as houses and lookouts close to the wall burst into flames. Burning embers rained down from above threatening to set the whole city ablaze.

"Freeze."

In an instant the ominous glowing wall went from hot enough to burn all around it to a temperature so low- where there were once fires, there was now ice. A loud groaning sound could be heard through the whole of the city. By this time all knew what was to come and they quickly made there way to the center of their once protected paradise.. Like claps of thunder, large cracks could be heard snaking along the ice, but the ice was not the only thing cracking.

"Shatter."

With a thundering roar the wall that had stood for a millennium fell crashing to the frozen ground. The people huddled close as the earth quaked under their feet. When the tremors died and the dust settled, all beheld the Dark Lord, but no one had the will to fight.

Adion stood at the gates of Tyr. They had recently been boarded over, but there was definitely stone behind them, excepting a point the wood hid. Atop the structure stood two guards, waiting for the veer to attack. It amazed Adion that they would so quickly begin the raising of an army. Not to mention that without access to the forest, Tyr will soon be a hollow mountain. This was, is, and never will be acceptable.

"I seek the under, to restore the song." Shouted Adion at the wall. At the sound of a speaking veer, the guards stood speechless. Not only did the beast speak, which was rare, it was not violent at a time when they couldn't find a calm veer in the whole of the forests.

Soon, a small chunk of the wood was pulled back into the mountain. To more guards held it, both looking slightly under fed, and with the look of hurry on their faces. Adion took that as a sign to into the city as soon as possible. When he entered, the two guards closed the door behind him. They then escorted Adion to the Gate to the Under. It was a metal bar gate with several locking mechanisms. With a single key, the door was opened, and with a single key, it was closed behind Adion.

He had been startled from his admiration of the beauty before him by the sounds of the horses, Alice jerked next to him, startled obviously not expecting the sound, at least not from outside the walls. They thundered towards his home, their numbers must have been in the hundreds, they acted as if unwary of the beast that lurked in the marshland, and all manner of creatures that dwell without.

"What-?" Alice said haltingly, hugging close to him in fear. His eyes narrowed on the group beyond the wall, food forgotten for the strange happenings. He was shocked when the governor himself made his way onto the wall, dismissing their picnic with a glance he turned his attention to the army at the door.

"A tenth? Are they mad!?" He hissed out voice a vicious whisper, he clenched his fist, eyes flaring in barely surpressed astonishment and fury at their gall. Alice looked at him in surprise at the harsh tone of his voice. He rarely spoke, and never in anger when around her, so it was little surprise. However, a tenth, that was utterly insane. He'd sooner burn his own fields and salt the earth, than allow their enemies to have it, better it be destroyed than taken.

The governor seemed to agree at least. He didn't bow to their demands, he felt a wave of patriotic pride then, so strong it made him grin, a moment later, his grin turned sour.

"People of Tonule, I wish no harm upon you. I offer this one and only warning; leave the wall or fall with it." The man had said, folly, idle words he had thought then. How wrong he would be proven in but a few moments. The Governor scurried past them, and he finally realized he had been holding Alice, dear beautiful Alice to himself since the disaster had begun.

"Sh-should we follow?" She asked. Voice a quiver in excitement and fear, her cheeks sporting a rosy flush from their close proximity. "Yeah, we probably should." He replied distractedly, the tips of his ears turning pink as he looked away from her, and began packing up her things, she moved to help him when one of the guards shouted, and his blood ran cold.

"It's frozen! The entire lake is frozen!" His head jerked sideways so fast, it was almost as if he had been stricken. Pupils dilating in primal fear at the sight of the now frozen lake, how could one man-?

"Run!" He barked at Alice, the minute he saw the man pointing at the wall, striding towards it. Dropping the teapot on the hard stone, shattering it, she came free from her shock at the sound, almost protesting. She was in shock, unable to move. So, he did the only natural thing, he scooped her up in his arms, she squealed at the contact, surprised, he was surprised as well. At how light she felt nestled their, and ran, ignoring everything around him.

He leapt from the last flight of stairs, Alice screaming in his ear as the wall turned cherry red, the heat licking his back, burning him, curling the hair on his body, even as he kept running, heedless of the aches in his legs from how he landed. Even as the heat stopped, and chill permeated the air, a groaning dogged his footsteps, he was convinced it was a great beast chasing them in his panic, so he did not stop, didn't heed the sirens call of curiousity.

That fact alone probably saved their lives. As with a roar of tortured metal, thousands of tons of metal fell upon the outer city in a wave, destroying everything in its path. He didn't stop until they were sequestered in Alice's shop, safe, for the moment.

Mirra walked through the courtyard garden; thoughts of a cycles gone by playing in her head. She was a child again dancing among the arcane energies that zipped through the air like fireflies. Her eyes filled with wonder and awe as she witnessed the magical sight. Merrin's Garden, it was once called. Merrin was a powerful Arcanist who spent his time in study and beautifying the man made world. "Nature is quite the artisan", he would say, "But arcanists are master craftsmen." Indeed he was; the garden that many in the castle enjoyed, worked on a perpetual cycle of arcane discipline. While it held every flower imaginable, it was the elemental flowers that really stood out.

Ember Flowers danced and flickered like the flames of a candle, while the Frost Flowers would send bursts of mist into the air that rained down upon the ground turning to frost. The winter scape was fleeting however, for the heat from the Ember Flowers would melt the frost turning it to water allowing the roots to absorb it and begin the process anew. Winding through this wonderland was a crystalline stream and small Lumin Wood bridges used for crossing. The source of this beautiful river could be said to be Merrin's greatest gift. Within the center of the garden stood the Starnight Fountain; a three tiered structure with water cascading down the the larger tiers below, the largest of the two being the bottom on. From here the water pooled into a small pond that branched out into the streams that wound through the garden. Placed around the fountain were benches for relaxing, there were fashioned from polished marble and shaped for comfort; they could seat two to three people.

Mirra walked across the bridges to the center of the garden, her light gown flowing in the ever present breeze. When she reached one of the benches she took a seat allowing the sound of the cascading water relax and sooth her body. She watched as a shooting star streaked across the surface of the fountain, her eyes following it till it disappeared around the bend. Starnight, she thought, what an appropriate name. The gem was said to mimic the night sky and one never knew what they see when gazing into the heavens.

"Lady Mirra, Her Majesty requests your presence."

A small sigh escaped her lips as whispered, "Just a little longer," to no one in particular, but duty called so it was back to the real and the sad state of affairs that plagued it.

>>><><<<

The queen didn't look good when she arrived. Mirra had never seen her so tired ...so weak. "You're Majesty!"

"Ah Mirra, help me to my room dear."

The queen's voice was feeble and barely a whisper. Mirra rushed over to her and called one of the aide's to help them. Carefully they guided the queen out of the throne room, down the hall, then up the stairs and finally to her bed chamber. When the the queen was laying comfortably upon the bed, the aide was dismissed. "Are you alright?"

Lynova smiled weakly. "Of course my dear. The distance and power needed was greater than I expected." Taking Mirra's hand she gave it a weak squeeze. "He has succeeded, as I knew he would. I envy you. You are a lucky woman; for he has eyes you and you alone. There was a time ...when I wanted those eyes to look at me; my child of winter, my perfect weapon. Oh how I would give you my all."

Bewilderment crossed Mirra's features. "How could a mother speak of her son in that way? "You're Majesty!?"

As if nothing had happened the queen smiled. "You were in the garden again."

"You're Majesty are you alright?"

"Of course my dear. Why?"

"It's just... You were saying some disturbing things."

"I'm sorry if I frightened you." The queen was silent a moment then said. "You were in the garden again."

Cupping her hands around the the queen's Mirra resigned. "Yes You're Majesty. I was in the garden."

The weak smiled returned. "You should take him there when he returns. Offer yourself to him. You two deserve a final night together." On the final word the queen slipped into oblivion, leaving Mirra both frightened and perplexed at what had just transpired. She was deeply worried about her friend's well being, but equally troubled by the words spoken in her delirium.

<<<<>>>>

Dalmar observed the rubble around him, black stone that mimicked the night sky was also peeking out though the rubble; the Starnight that protected the wall from arcane onslaught, but he was puzzled by the amount of metal amongst the stone debris. Placing his hand over his chin he thought about what this meant. Turning to observe the crowd he finally spoke. "What kind of structure was built along this wall?"

A man in fine linens stepped forward. His posture was strong and erect, a man of authority and means given his rotund physique. "Scaffolding, My Lord."

Placing his hands behinds his back he walked with casually over to the finely dressed man. "Scaffolding, you say? For what purpose was this built?"

"Maintenance M'Lord. For the up keep of the wall."

"I see. You had scaffolding built to keep the wall in proper condition. Tell me...

"Henfield."

"MR. Henfield, what do you know of arcane structures?"

"I know that they are the masterwork of Master Arcanists. They are eternal. They will not wither or fade. They are pristine."

"Very good." Dalmar said, as he paced around the prideful man. "And the wall of this great city?"

"It was one of the finest." Realization hit Mr. Henfield too late, beads of sweat began to form upon his brow.

"What is your profession Mr. Henfield?"

"B...Burgomaster."

The silver haired knight smiled and began to chuckle. "A legal thief. I might have known. Taxes were collected for this maintenance?"

"Aye sir." Henfield's shoulders slumped forward and his tone no longer rang with pride.

Leaning in close to the now nervous round man Dalmar spoke softly. "You and I both know this was a false tax. Since no work was being done, where did the money go? To your fine linens and lavish life style perhaps?"

Now fidgeting vigorously with is hands, the burgomaster stammered out, "Partly."

"And the rest?"

Lips quivering, sweat sliding down his face, the man looked with tearful eyes toward the people. "Beneath the floorboards ...of my house." Falling to his knees he begged for their forgiveness. "I'm sorry, truly I am!"

Stepping back from the man Dalmar addressed the crowd as he drew his sword. "I find the selfishness of this city appalling, but this man offends me the most. He has stolen from his own people, you are no longer just citizens of Tonule. You are citizens of the Kingdom of Etriny and the queen will not tolerate theft from her people. We have few laws, but the laws we do have are absolute. The penalty for stealing from the Queen's people is death." With swiftness and precision Mr. Henfield's head was removed from his body. With the deed finished the Dark Lord turned his attention to the governor.

Louis swallowed hard when the silver eyes of their conqueror focused on him. This was it he thought, this was how he was going to die. When the Dark Lord spoke he could barely hear him over the sound of pounding heart. Words like 'failure, arrogant bled through the pulsing in his ears, but the phrase "You took for granted that which protected you." rang true. His fathers words, the family motto came haunting back. His knees buckled and he fell prostrate upon the ground. "Please.."

"Don't grovel to me governor. It is not me you have wronged." Pointing to the gathered people, he said; "They are the ones you should be groveling to. Your fate is in their hands" Addressing the mod; "This man's fate is in your hands. You may strip him of his title, where he will live out the rest of his days as a common man, or you can give him a second chance. Doing so will make him Regent of Tonule, with all the privileges that come with such a title. What say you?"

>>><><<<

"The Millennial Fortress has fallen. Soon the blood of the father will stain the ground. Call your Champions. The last stronghold of Man must be defended; for if it falls...We fall."

Adion walked down through the empty stone corridors of the Under. He could hear the creatures deeper doing whatever they did. Some fighting, others eating. He could also hear the echos of the Under, making distance seem infinite. The stone was a darker black than even the stone within Tyr, as compared to its normal white shine.

Drip... Drip... Drip the water rang through the stone halls as something else echoed and rippled through Adion's head. With every step, both the water and the message became louder, clearer. Soon, Adion could understand fragments of the message. "Millennial Fortress. Blood. Father. Champions. Man. Falls. Fail." The message was incomplete, but arcane. As if the magic that made it eternal was waning, hoping for some form of boost. Some kind of maintenance. This filled Adion with an indescribable dread as he walked further into the Under.

Nightfall saw Hadyn once again in the observatory. She didn’t clock in officially this time- she wasn’t scheduled to study tonight, but her recent observations were bugging her. The pattern was hard to observe from home, and part of her hoped she’d be able to find another mention in one of the books in the library here.

‘The pattern resides in the nebula that usually rests in the sky over Volstack’s border with the Chasm…almost directly between the constellations of Peregrinan and Psarus… but it doesn’t reside within either constellation’s domain, so would it even carry characteristics of one or the other?’ Hadyn covered her information again, aimlessly sketching that region of sky in between pauses to glance at her books. Mostly her eyes were drawn back to the one book that noted the formation once before. This darker spot in the nebula that appeared as a creature with wings… all of this person’s sketches looked so similar to her observations it was uncanny. And it was in the same nebula all those years ago… but his notes ended abruptly and the last quarter of the journal was occupied by the notes of another astronomer... A darker spot in the cloud… darker spots meant the cloud was thinner there…

She needed another look at the sky. The brunette stood, gathered her small pile of research, and went to find an unused telescope. One of the few telescopes was usually left unused for those who were not scholars by vocation, but chose to look to the skies recreationally. She reached the attendant’s desk to ask which telescope was left…

“Miss Everett, what are you doing here tonight? You’re not on the schedule,” the woman at the desk asked.

“I’m here for personal study, Miss Kida,” Hadyn responded, “Is there a telescope free?”

“I’m afraid not, someone called earlier to reserve it,” the attendant said, looking down at a sheet of paper she’d picked up from a tray on her desk. “You’re scheduled for tomorrow; you’ll have access to a scope then, dear.”

“I’d hoped to observe this phenomenon tonight…”

“That shape you keep seeing?”

“Yes, how did you know about that?” the woman’s knowledge took Hadyn by surprise.

“This department’s scribes were talking about it earlier. It seems one of the scribes who’s less keen on the art of astrology got assigned to copy some of your more recent notes…” the attendant explained. Perfect. She’d worried about that happening.

“Well, it’s not their job to judge what they record. Anyways, not everyone’s going to believe my less than scientific observations…” Hadyn muttered.

“Don’t worry about it, Miss Everett. They’ll get used to you eventually. Besides, the older astronomers seem quite fond of you,” She then apologized once again to Hadyn as the young woman strode off. Now, unless she was able to convince scheduled astronomer to let her borrow their scope for a bit, she’d have to wait tomorrow night. Still, there was a part of her nagging to check that dark spot again tonight, a part of her that was convinced something might change tonight.

A subtle, strange noise rose just then, just on the edges of Hadyn’s perception. It was an odd, quiet noise that, when she turned, seemed to be coming from the observation halls. She’d never heard such a noise in the great library… it was like crinkling paper amplified and echoing with static electricity… The brunette walked towards where she thought the sound was emanating from, and as she drew closer a slew of vague, mumbling voices added themselves to the muted fray of noises. She also noticed that no one she passed seemed the least bit perturbed by the sounds. Studying would be impossible with such a ruckus, even if it was barely audible.

Following the sounds did indeed lead her to the observation halls. And as she continued, it drew her up stairs, closer to the sky. Only a few individual observatories and labs where in this hallway… she rarely came here- only to submit a report every so often… The sound drew her to the observatory containing telescope two, one of the two larger scopes the library had. What on earth was going on in there? Her hand drew itself up to the wood of the door and her knuckles rapped gently against it. The moment she knocked, the sound ended. Anxiety welled up in Hadyn at the sound’s sudden absence.

“Hold on but a moment,” an elderly voice answered. Oh dear, who had she just interrupted? And only on the grounds of a faint noise coming from his observatory?

The door opened to reveal the face of Mister Yamin, one of the older observers of the program and Hadyn’s senior by many years. “Oh! Miss Everett. To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from such a young face?”

“Pardon my interruption, sir.” She gave a slight bow, “To be honest, I was doing a bit of personal research when I was… well, drawn here by an odd noise,”

“Heheheh, to the point as usual, I see. But I whatever you heard didn’t come from here- this hallways has been quite silent tonight. Perhaps aside from the quiet music Miss Randao plays when she thinks…” He glanced down the hall for a moment before looking back at Hadyn. “What sort of noise?”

“Talking and papers crumpling and echoing… I think… You know what, forget I said anything. I’m terribly sorry for interrupting your research,” She bowed again and moved to leave.

“Now hold on just a second. You can’t just ‘interrupt me’ and walk away like that,” the old man scoffed, mock anger on his face. Hadyn looked at him, confused and slightly worried. “Come in and keep me company. Perhaps tell me about this ‘personal research’ you mentioned ,”

Hadyn’s worry faded. The older astronomer didn’t seem irritated at all by her presence. Perhaps after years of quiet nights stargazing, it was pleasant to have company. She strode into the room, noting the small bookshelves lined with journals and all of the papers and journals on the desk next to the viewing lens of the telescope. This scope was much grander than the scopes she had the privilege to use. This one’s window was much larger, as well, and she could feel more of a breeze blowing in from outside that’d explain why the older astronomers all wore such warm looking clothes half of the time…

“Please, have a seat,” He gestured towards the extra seat at the desk. Hadyn thanked him as she sat down, trying not to stare at the scribbles on the papers littering his desk. Particularly his star charts. They were much clearer and nicer looking than the ones she drew.

“Now, what has you here studying instead of in bed asleep?” He asked.

“A nebulaic pattern, sir. It’s been there for a month now, in the cloud over the Volstack-Chasm border.”

“A nebulaic pattern? That’s quite some time for a pattern to linger,” He rubbed the short beard on his chin, causing the gray and brown hair to stand a little askew.

“And it’s only gotten darker. I’d hoped to observe it tonight, but the public scope ended up being reserved.” Hadyn continued and pulled a book out from the small stack she’d been holding, “It’s not just that the pattern has lasted for so long, it’s that I was only able to find mention of it in one place- an observer’s journal copied by scribes years and years ago,”

Yamin took the book and turned to the bookmarked page. After a few moments silence, he looked back up at Hadyn.

“You found this? That’s like finding a needle in a haystack,”

“Well, sir, I’ve done quite a bit of reading,” Hadyn admitted. The man chuckled lightly.

“It’s always nice to see such passion in young people! Come, point my scope at your formation so I can take a look,” He gestured towards the telescope with a big smile. Hadyn looked to the scope then to him, but he just nodded back to the scope. By now she’d memorized the coordinates and so the adjustments didn’t take long. Soon she had the winged formation in her sights, but this time there was a notable difference. A blueish ball of light was peeking out of the hole of the formation.

“Oh, oh, uh,” Hadyn looked back up at Yamin. He seemed confused. “I think you should see this, sir,”

“Oh?” He looked and then exclaimed, “By the Queen, it’s a comet!”

His heart beat didn’t get much of a chance to slow, from his awakening till he reached the village. Maxilith found himself lining up with the path the creature took to Hensma, the trees flying past as quickly as he could carry himself. Focusing on his speed pushed back the memories triggered by the dream, but they fought vigorously for a spot in the front of his mind. Suddenly Maxilith’s foot was caught and he came crashing to the ground. He lay there on the forest floor only for a moment, registering new pains in his ankle, knees, hands, and chin. But soon he was on his feet again, almost grateful for the new pains to help him root his thoughts in action rather than his dream.

Before long , the path below his feet became hardened- the result of many feet having trodden that path over time. Maxilith made his was between buildings; the square was so close. And finally it opened up before him. The simple, small Hensma, with simple architecture and simple lives living within it. He could not remember having ever appreciated this town so much, but then again, it was more that he was glad to see the people were still alive and well.

His eyes then locked on a figure he’d never seen before. The figure stood near the well that was situated near the middle of the square, amid the flowers townsfolk had surrounded the stone fixture with to make it more pleasing to the eye. They had the appearance of a traveler, no, a pilgrim, with travel garb that had the look of robes; dirtied white clothes with yellow and green designs. They wore a hood, as well, which perhaps lent to the monkish image Maxilith perceived. After just a moment, though, the hood indicated that the figure was looking straight at the blonde, and the figure lifted their hands to pull down the hood.

“Are you alright, sir?” The man underneath the hood was speaking to Maxilith. His blue eyes were unmistakably locked on the young man whose chest was still heaving from his run.

“Uh,” Maxilith looked down at himself, at the dirt and grass stains on his pants and the blood from the scrapes on his hands. There was probably a scrape on his chin, too, now that he thought about it. “I… I’m fine, I suppose,”

“You got here in quite a hurry,” The traveler pointed out. Maxilith approached him slowly. “May I ask why?”

“I needed to check on something,”

“And did you see what you needed to see?”

“Um… I suppose so,” Maxilith responded, confused, “I don’t see how it’s any of your business. You don’t seem to be from around here,”

“You are not native to this small town either,” The traveler spoke with a smile, as if pleased with Hensma’s quaintness, “are you?”

“I don’t see how that matters to you,” the blonde replied

“No, I suppose you don’t.” The stranger was silent for a moment, during which Maxilith looked back out at the town, once again reminding himself that his dream had, in fact, only been a dream.

“It’s a shame, really,” The stranger mused.

“What is?” Maxilith asked, for the traveler’s comment seemed directed at him.

“The state of the forest,” He replied simply, “I was told the forest was sick, but I didn’t expect it to be in such a condition…”

“What did you expect to see?”

“I just didn’t expect it to be so noticeable.” The traveler seemed sad.

“You should have seen it in it’s prime…” ‘I shouldn’t talk, I can barely remember the forest in its healthy state…’

“I did. Long ago. But I traveled here once more to deliver a message to someone,” The stranger explained.

“Must be a fairly important message, you look like you’ve come a long way,”

“I have, I just have to locate him. The boy I’m supposed to deliver my message to,”

“What’s his name? Most people here in town know each other, and I know a lady who could help you find him,” Maxilith knew Ashyl would know whoever the messenger was looking for.

“I don’t know it,” Was he kidding? How could he not know who his message was for?

“You don’t know?” Maxilith repeated, “How can you deliver it if you don’t know who it’s for?”

“Oh, I know who it’s for. I just don’t know the boy’s name,” The man explained. Maxilith just squinted at him in a confused manner, resulting in a slight chuckled from the messenger. “Yes, that is the usual response. ‘A freed slave with inner and outer scars taking refuge in the forest town of Hensma. You will know him when you see him’ the father told me,”

Maxilith was dumbfounded. The description certainly hit home; no one here knew him by such an identity. How did this guy know? He said ‘the father’ told him…So this guy really was a monk or something…?

“You don’t have to say anything. The father was right, I knew the moment I saw you.” The messenger smiled.

“Look, I’m not looking for some holy intervention-“

“You’ve got the wrong idea. The path to healing is one you will walk on your own, but for now, you are needed just as you are,” The man seemed perfectly calm.

“Needed? Whatever sort of task you’re trying to pawn off on me I won’t take.” Maxilith was somewhat offended at the idea of having to do anything for this complete stranger.

“I ask you only to listen,” This stranger remained patient, “For my message is thus, ‘Destiny calls you, champion of the forest. The last stronghold of Man must be defended; for if it falls...We fall.’"

“What is that supposed to mean?” Maxilith tried not to react, but the words resonated with him for some reason. They rang with a truth he did not understand.

“I know not,” The messenger shook his head, “But a call from destiny should not be taken lightly. I prayed during my trek here for what to tell you, for I knew you’d question the message’s meaning. Most people would, I believe. But great forces inspired the father to send me here to you, and I believe it is because the shackles of your past make you wish to reject desti-“

“That’s enough,” Maxilth stopped him, his tone angered and somewhat grave, “I don’t want some stranger coming in out of nowhere telling me why I work the way I do. You don’t know me, your father doesn’t know me, and I couldn’t care less about your destiny crap,”

“Pardon me if I was too forward…” The man apologized, “But I do want to convey to you the importance of this call. The message spoke of you as champion, and champions do great things. Your destiny is not to hide out here in the forest… perhaps, your destiny might be to save it,”

Maxilith looked at the man incredulously. Once again the words resonated with him in a way he couldn’t understand. Before, in his dream, Maxilith saw the forest gray and nearly void of life. He saw soldiers marching to war. Part of him was starting to believe the guy wasn’t only speaking nonsense.

“What do you want me to do, then? March off and become a hero? What skills do I have that would be at all useful as a champion?” Maxilith asked a little sarcastically.

“I don’t want you to do anything. And I do not know destiny’s instructions for you,” The stranger responded very sincerely, “But you are a ‘champion of the forest’, no? Go, ask it what you should do from here,”

“Is that the best you got?”

“I have said all I came here to stay. I believe I will find myself a place to stay for the night, now,”

Maxilith sighed and pointed, “There’s an inn down that road.”

“Thank you. I pray the best of luck for you in the trials to come,” the stranger bowed and turned to walk to the inn.

First the dream, now this? What was going on? What was he supposed to do now?