The dark woods lit up in shades of amber.

Both Gwydion and Logan walked on the opposite end of the same trail with their hands stretched out so that dancing flames emancipated from their palms.

Aria, on the other hand, walked in the middle and made sure those two did not get into another quarrel.

She was the first one who noticed the wizard in the distance. Although she wasn’t acquainted with Grendel as much as her brother, that didn’t mean she had no idea who he was.

Picking up the pace, she brushed past Logan and sprinted towards the wizard. Both Gwydion and Logan were too busy trying to avoid one another to spot him. But when they saw her advance with such speed, they both came to a standstill.

Logan squinted. What in the world did she see, he thought, before catching a glimpse of the figure he knew very well. A smile appeared on his face. There he was, the wizard himself, Grendel the Great – his old friend from a time he no longer recalled.

It was a rare friendship between a deity, who possessed all the knowledge of the Teachings of the Past and Present, and a wizard who knew more than just a few spells.

In fact, it was so rare that their friendship extended beyond time and space and became a subject a great many debated in Isaldor and would do so for many years to come.

Grendel smiled back and assured the headmaster that everything was under control and that his beloved daughter was in safe hands. But Logan had to make sure.

His old friend beat him to it, though.

“Looking for your little girl, are you Logan?”

“How is she? Where’d you—”

“She’s at the lodge, resting. How many years has it been, old friend?”

“Far more years than it should! How are you?”

Grendel greeted him with a warm hug.

“I’m doing well. You know how it is in these woods. How’s it going with Lárhus? Last time Lady Urius was here, she said you cared for those kids more than your own kin.”

“Don’t even bother, my friend! I won’t waver! She’s had a grudge against me ever since I left the Council. Here’s a piece of advice for old time’s sake: don’t heed her words!”

They both burst out in laughter and hugged for a second time, exchanging words of pleasantries and talking about their time in Isaldor, studying the ancient scripts and learning to become wise men.

Aria rolled her eyes upon seeing her brother act out of character. Without really knowing why, her eyes wandered to Gwydion. His expression seemed dark and steely, and he kept his head low.

There was once a time when her brother and the druid were like this, too. Perhaps it was these memories that weighed heavily on the druid’s mind at this very moment, she thought to herself.

But it wasn’t the memories of the past that made the druid look like this. The only person who saw through the devouring darkness etched on his face was none other than Grendel the Great.

The wizard excused himself and drew closer to the druid. It was so sudden and so unexpected that even Gwydion looked taken aback.

“Are you looking for someone too, druid?”

“No, why would I?”

Grendel was about to reply when Logan leaned in and whispered something in his ear. He pointed towards the fading forest trail on their left. The headmaster thanked him and gestured for his sister to follow him.

Gwydion was about to follow the divine siblings when the wizard grabbed his arm and stopped him in his tracks. Even so, the wizard remained hushed and did not say a word, as though the words he wanted to say lingered on the tip of his tongue.

“What do you want?”

Grendel hesitated to respond for a few seconds. Although his and the druid’s paths never crossed until today, he could tell from his face that he looked worried, nonetheless. But that was not why he felt such a strong urge to stop him and tell him what crossed his mind at the time.

He knew from his friendship with Logan that Gwydion was the lone and aloof kind of person – a selfish person who brimmed with arrogance.

He heard many rumours about how the wise druid, perhaps the wisest man in all of Fayr to ever exist, never cared for anyone but himself. But here the druid indeed was, worried for someone other than himself.

“The boy’s safe and sound…”

The druid, “I never asked.”

“I thought you—”

The druid pulled away without letting him finish his sentence. Only the howling wind and the druid’s echoing footsteps rang throughout the woods blanketed in darkness as Grendel lingered behind and watched him disappear out of view.

The Witches’ Lodge was located in the heart of the forest, closer to the borders of Aderbaal than Sawoldor.

That was why many humans got lost in the dark forest at night, wandering too deep into the denseness without realising where their feet took them.

Grendel and his people were the ones who helped the humans find their way out of the forest. Sometimes, however, they’d find their remains instead.

In such situations, they’d bury the humans where they found them and place a wooden stick carved with numbers through the soil – numbers of how many unfortunate souls fell victim to the wolves or the wicked trolls over the years.

Unlike the druids and deities of Sawoldor, the wizards and witches were humans at birth and were bound to bite the dust one day. Although there were rituals and spells in place to cheat death, the Council forbade them from attaining immortality.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

This rule was set after the Alfen Wars ended to keep the wizards and the druids separate, so that neither of these two groups of races were alike.

The wizards and witches weren’t allowed to study the Teaching of the Past and Present like the druids either or weave basic spells, although they were not forbidden from obtaining such wise wisdom.

That was how Grendel was able to study alongside the headmaster and other prominent druids and wise men and women back in the day. He made a promise to the Council of Deities that the wisdom he obtained in Isaldor would benefit no one but himself and his people guarding these dark woods.

The Witches’ Lodge was not much different from the huts in Aderbaal. It was made of pine wood and was not much bigger than three close-sitting shanty houses.

While most humans did not know it existed, those who did were either wise men and women, or wandering wizards and witches on a quest.

Still others were adventurers who set out to explore the dark past of the forest, which bordered the Glade of Doom.

Only those who knew the forest like the back of their hands knew where to find the Glade of Doom.

It wasn’t the kind of place you’d go just for the thrill of it. Still, many wizards and witches risked their lives to find it only to meet their doom.

Grendel tried to talk his kinsmen out of pursuing the Glade of Doom and to seek adventure elsewhere, such as Gam’atron where the evil spirits resided in the valleys ever since the Alfen Wars ended.

Most of them, however, refused to heed his warnings and thought him to be a selfish fool, who put his nose into matters he had no right to meddle in.

Surely, they knew of the rumours whispered through the tree crowns that he was the only human who ever escaped the notorious glade without getting lost in its wrath.

And so they falsely believed he tried to keep them from finding it on purpose when all he wanted was to keep them safe.

As soon as Grendel strode in through the gaping door, he knew he was to face either of two situations: the sad tears of grief or the merry tears of joy. It was latter.

The headmaster’s daughter was no longer bedridden and in good health from the look of it. She clung to her misty-eyed father’s neck like she would never let go.

He sighed out in relief and wiped the beads of cold sweat on his forehead. The poor girl had made it through the searing fever and come back alive despite all odds.

Like her father, he noted, she was a warrior who fought to her last breath and never gave up.

But his smile didn’t last for too long.

Logan’s face darkened and became solemn in a heartbeat. This wasn’t a good sign, he thought, before letting his eyes wander to Aria and Gwydion, who sat at the round table in the left corner inches away from the bed where Elise and her father reunited.

Both Aria and the druid looked just as concerned about the change in Logan’s expression as the wizard himself. Each of them knew of the headmaster’s bad temper and that all hell was about to break loose.

Everything happened so fast that there was nothing anyone could do or say to calm Logan down. The headmaster pulled away from his daughter and shook her shoulders without any care for the faces she made, clearly in pain.

Both Gwydion and Aria rose to their feet to calm the headmaster down and talk some sense into him. But his voice, unlike his sour expression, was still soft and calm. For the moment, of course.

“What happened to you? Why were you in the forest? Don’t you know what kind of place this is? Elise, speak!”

“It- It’s my fault, Dad. I—”

Logan’s fiery eyes settled on the kid they found trapped in the woods.

“Did that boy tell you to come here? Elise!”

Elise, “No! Hain has nothing to do with this! I swear! I told you, it was all my fault!”

“That is for me to decide! Why did you come here then? Why would you do such a foolish thing!”

“I… I saw that man again, Dad! The one we saw in the restroom!” She glanced at the grey-eyed boy before continuing. “He dragged something from the forest and poured it into the moat. I- I thought I could track him down for you! And I… I just wanted to help you. Hain told me not to, but I… but I didn’t listen to him.”

“Then why are you in such pain? Did that boy do something to you?”

Elise shook her head. “No, he… We- we saw a troll. It said it was hurt and needed help. Hain told me not to… not to believe in it, but I did. It lured me into their lair and, somehow, I made it out of there—”

“Do you know what could’ve happened! Going into the trolls’ lair! Do you realise—”

“I know. But look, I’m here and I’m safe, Dad! I… I even made a deal with them! I’m not a little girl anymore! I can fend for myself!”

“A deal?” Logan released his grip on her. “A deal! A bloody deal with the devil!”

Aria stepped forwards and squeezed her brother’s shoulder before he lost all senses and blazed up like wildfire. But it was too late.

Logan was seeing red. He pushed her hand away and strode back and forth in the lobby with his arms folded on his back.

He needed to vent his anger on something or someone before he lost it for good and did something to his daughter.

That was when he locked eyes with Grendel, who took off his pointy hat and put it on the table in the corner, perhaps on purpose, to catch the headmaster’s attention.

His bald scalp exposed itself like a sore thumb and beckoned him to come over. Whenever his old friend did that, it meant he wanted to sit down and talk business.

But he wasn’t having any of that – certainly not in this state – so he took his anger out on him instead, knowing very well that the wizard was the only one who could calm him down.

“I thought you protected the forest!”

“I do, old friend. But there are things you don’t know…”

“Oh, is that so? Then you tell me, Grendel! What are the trolls doing here!”

Grendel glanced at Elise. “I thought maybe Elise could help me find out why.”

Logan followed his gaze upon realising what his old friend meant by that.

“She doesn’t know anything! You keep her out of this!”

“If you say so,” Grendel muttered, adding, “then I must pay a visit to the trolls I suppose and find out myself – the answer to your question, that is…”

Before anyone could see it coming, the headmaster snatched the longsword on the wall in a breath and pointed it at Grendel, who, as if he had anticipated it, did not budge an inch.

“Count me in, then! I’m going to show those wicked things that no one harms my little girl!”

Grendel pushed the tip of the sword away with a finger. “We’re not paying a visit to kill them, Logan. We’re going to have a chat that’s all.”

“Then talk as much as you want but let me teach them a lesson they’ll never forget when you’re done!”

Grendel opened his mouth to protest when Logan pointed the tip of the longsword at Hain, who backed away and stumbled on his buttock.

“That’ll be our bait. We need something to lure them out, don’t we?”

Aria, “He’s just a kid, Logan!”

“That’s why he’s coming with us, dear sister! Those things hanker for the flesh of children, after all!”

Aria was about to add something, when Gwydion, who remained hushed the entire time, stepped forwards and broke her off.

“He is right, Aria. We need bait. Besides, none of us are small enough to get inside the cave.”

Grendel stared at the druid and then at the headmaster, who joined forces against Aria.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he knew better than anyone that there was no point in arguing or trying to persuade the deity to change his mind.

“Then so be it. But don’t we need to ask the kid if he wants to become bait?”

They all turned to face Hain, who stood there with lips pressed together and could not utter a single word.

He’s scared, Aria thought, before letting her piercing eyes settle on the druid. What was going through that head of his? Why would he side with her brother, when all those two ever did was bicker like an old married couple?

Hain nodded.

But even if he refused, she reasoned, they’d still tag him along and force him into becoming a bait.

That poor child… What dreadful things must go through his mind right now? In a last attempt to talk some sense into her brother, she stepped forwards but it was too late.

Logan passed the longsword over to Gwydion, conjured himself one from thin air and then took the lead out of the lodge without allowing her to speak her mind. The druid followed not long after and Grendel too, along with several of his people.

Grendel sighed so loud that the spirits of the forest sighed along with him. There was no use in fighting, he reasoned and gave up every attempt to stop the bloody raid ahead. What was meant to happen would happen anyway, as it always did.