[Varali POV]

Varali woke to the sound of light rain. In her eighteen years, she had come to learn that the end of the summer brought the rains, no matter how much she wished that it didn’t. There was good and bad with that, but what it meant for her today was that she would be soaked through her entire path to and from her destination. She groaned, thought about pulling her blanket up over head, decided not to, and rolled out of her hammock.

She’d heard that Giddoni had an actual feather-stuffed mattress at the Red Abbey, though that hadn’t been the subject of any of the letters he’d sent back to her. The jerk hadn’t hardly responded to any of her letters… he said he was super busy with all his studies, and sure, that was probably true, but he could still send short letters! Or write longer ones over time and send them after working on them in his breaks! Varali continued to grouse and grumble about her lover’s inattention as she mused on the comfort of a feather bed and dressed herself.

Since she’d heard about a wolfstag pack nearby that was showing all the signs of pups that were soon to leave the den, she needed to scout out the area and see if she could lay an eye on one of the little guys. They made wonderful companions, and grew in strength alongside their masters, so she quite looked forward to her new, cute friend. On top of that, Varali had heard of a new approach, something called Soulbinding instead of Soul Companionship, and she wanted to be as advanced as possible once she joined Giddoni at the Red Abbey. She’d heard of the bullying that the “elites” of the Abbey, those born and raised in the Capital, usually subjected the frontier’s folk like her to. She wouldn’t stand for it, no way.

Her mind having changed its track, Varali ran through a dozen different situations she could think of, how she would stand up to the bullies, how she would humble them, how to shut them down, and by the time she was fully dressed in her beralt except the headdress, Varali was well and truly worked up.

She forced herself to slow herself going down the stairs, knowing that her father prepared breakfast and would make his displeasure known to her if she jumped down the stairs as she wanted. He never said much to discipline her, but the look in his eyes, the gentle sigh of disappointment, and the catch in his throat were, in Varali’s opinion, far crueler than a simple smack upside the head would have been.

As she turned the corner into the kitchen, before she could say anything, her father’s voice greeted her, “Viili vaata, carin.” He hadn’t needed to turn around to know she was there. His Windspeaking’s fault, she was sure.

“Viili vaata. The bread smells wonderful, Father.”

He turned, the crows feet at the corners of his eyes showing as his easy, teasing smile filled his face. "Yes, as always, carin. I knew you would be leaving early today, so I made sure it would be ready before you left. Your mother got home late last night, so forgive her her rest today. The council is almost done preparing for tomorrow, so she's been quite busy."

Varali nodded her head as she reached out for one of the loaves and a smaller chunk of smoked venison. “I need to go soon, to make sure I’m home early enough to rest and spend time with my pup.”

“If you can get one safely, you mean?”

Varali fought to keep her eyes from rolling. “Of course, Father.”

His face and tone were completely serious, "There have been some signs of serious conflict in the forest lately, be careful, eh?" His chocolate skin shone and his verdant green eyes stared deep into Varali's. “You’ll do great in the Speaking competition tomorrow, so long as you don’t get yourself hurt today.”

“Yes, Father, I know.”

He stepped forward and put his hand on Varali’s shoulder and forced her to look into his eyes. She did, but began to fear a little. Korali was never like this, but he continued, saying, “Varali, carin. It’s been worse than you know. I trust you to be safe, and to be wise, but know that it is worse than you know.”

After holding her gaze for another moment, Korali turned, grabbed a wax-sealed pouch, and passed it to his daughter. “Be safe. Come home soon.”

With a nod and a kiss on her father’s cheek, Varali ripped a good handful of the bread from the loaf, and began to chew on it as she exited her family’s home. The rain was soft enough that with some hunching and quick chewing, Varali could finish what she’d initially ripped free before she’d made it more than a couple dozen steps from her home. Their nameless little town had maybe five thousand people in it, but Varali loved it nonetheless. Everyone cared for everyone else, and if a family was suffering, the rest of the townsfolk knew and would support them. It got a little tiresome, since everyone knew everything that was happening in your life any given day, but it meant you were loved, is all.

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Since the rainy season had begun in earnest, most people had long settled into their wet season schedules, rising later and generally staying indoors. As she walked through the town, Varali saw a couple of people, but none were so interested in talking with her that they were willing to step out from the warmth and comfort of their homes. As she finished the ever more soggy bread, Varali donned the hood of her beralt. She’d long been taught how to properly wear one, and that it, somehow, hid those who wore them from being detected by the creatures of the Martanimis jungle.

Layers of thick, unbreathable cloth covered every inch of her once Varali had fully settled the hood of the beralt around her head. Well, except for her eyes, and even those were covered by a thin strip of gauze. The wet of the rain was already beginning to crawl down her neck and down her spine, but after all these years of little excursions wearing her beralt, she was used to the discomfort. She was reminded, however, that her chosen Callings were Flamespeaking and Soulspeaking, and she would be far less effective than usual with her flames with the heavy moisture filling the air.

Varali calmed herself, and, according to her training, set out to investigate if there truly was a wolfstag pack nearby. Amir had sworn up and down that not only was there a huge pack of wolfstags nearby, but that he had seen them sparking with electricity and smelled the ozone. Varali knew, though, that Amir was the biggest liar in the village, so she didn’t care to give him too much credit. Even so, deep inside, she let herself dream of a majestic wolfstag, its horns sparkling with lightning as she walked the streets of Viertaal to enter the Red Abbey.

And while she was dreaming, Giddoni would be watching her entrance exam, would welcome her with open arms and a passionate kiss, and swear his undying love. She shook her head, wryly casting off her unrealistic hopes and dreams, instead hoping only to find a wolfstag that could serve as a first Soul Companion, or Soulbound, whatever the difference was.

The morning’s walk through the jungle was uneventful, she saw some terrorbird sign, but it was at least a week old and slowly washing away in the rain. Then, she began to see the wolfstag sign. Varali couldn’t help but internally cheer as she began to see the massive prints left in the mud. Measuring them against her hand, she’d never seen a wolfstag large enough to have such large paws, each print larger than both her feet together. She wasn’t the largest of the Veushten people, but she was no runt. If she had to guess, these wolfstags were nearly five feet tall at the shoulder? Against her better judgment and without bidding, the little fantasy of a massive wolfstag at her heel resurfaced, but Varali pushed it down.

There were tracks that led straight to the wolfstags’ den, and Varali followed as fast as she could while still maintaining some level of caution. As she approached, though, she was seeing the vestiges of destroyed brush, and evidence of a hard-won fight. She couldn’t see if there were any casualties from the wolfstags, since there were no bodies left behind where she passed. Then, as Varali continued onward, she began to smell scorched flesh and fur. Something must have been torched by the wolfstags then, so either Voltaic, Flaming, or Infernal. Probably Voltaic, since Amir seemed to not have been lying this time around. So exciting! Varali felt a grin stretch her face as she walked forward. The wolfstags were large and magically gifted! That was a boon among boons!

As Varali stepped forward, excited, she felt more than saw a threat. Trusting her instincts, she hunkered down near the curling roots of a nearby burlraiz and watched. After nearly a minute, she realized that the jungle had gone silent around her. Were the wolfstags near? Varali began to silently pray for the Gran Verat’s guidance, that he may guide her to safety and survival somehow, but her prayers for safety and hopes of a wolfstag companion crumbled to nothingness as she saw the figures breaking through the brush.

They were large, the most massive among them over six feet tall, mostly a dark brown but mottled with black scales. Its head was maybe a foot and a half long, with cruel fangs curving from its closed mouth, and along with the frills, a pair of curling horns jutted from its forehead. The whole body rippled with muscle covered with thick defensive scales. It stood mostly upright, but distinctly hunched, its tail dragging nearly on the ground behind it. In one of its hands, it dragged a long Martanimis Python, over twelve feet at least. With the intimidating beast strode another two massive creatures like itself, and then, another ten that were quite different, and familiar to Varali.

Squat, thin creatures covered with scales, long snouts and cavernous jaws, short arms and powerful legs and a tail. Keelish. Varali had never heard of a creature like the three huge ones, but they were obviously the leaders over the impressively and uncommonly large keelish. Even if it was a pack of keelish like this, it would be considered a threat of the highest order, but with these other ones… Varali fought to keep down the shudders of terror.

Somehow, thanks to the Gran Verat himself, Varali hadn’t been noticed as of yet, and she fought to keep it that way. The fear fought to drive her to hyperventilation, but she fought to steady herself as the pack of fifteen or so keelish passed her by. After a quarter of an hour had passed, Varali felt she was finally able to move, and with the release of tension, her stomach began to heave in unmitigated terror. Varali felt the bread from this morning begin to rise up her throat, and after a couple swallows were unable to keep herself from vomiting, she quickly opened the mouth of her beralt.

She couldn’t successfully keep her breakfast stay down, and, as the mixture of the smells and her newly unlocked nightmare washed over her, Varali vomited painfully against the nearby burlraiz she had hidden behind. Several times, she thought that she had recovered but was interrupted by the recollection of the huge beast, blood coating its hands and jaws, after which her terror incapacitated her once again.

There was a keelish swarm, the likes of which had not been seen since the Great Purge, and it was here.