The next morning I was outside in the cool morning air before the sun had started peaking over the horizon. Wearing the same clothes I had been given last night, I had added a belt that I'd stolen from Mason to hold a pouch of blackberry seeds and a small waterskin that Doctor Henry had given me. With my hair brushed and neatly braided, I felt ready for the journey.

A few people were also up and about now, readying themselves for another day of work. Some nodded at me when I passed them, while others simply ignored me and went on their way. I had gotten used to this. While not as bad as the people in the larger cities, many in this little village considered the earth magus to be unlucky and abandoned by the Earth God. I would argue the fact we still have earth magic proves that sentiment wrong, but it wasn't worth wasting my breath here.

I walked along the main road of the village, heading towards the outskirts where the Lycan Guard had camped for the night. Da and Mason were still asleep back at the hospital. Mum had woken up with me and wanted to walk me to the camp, but I had convinced her otherwise. She had large dark circles under her eyes still, and I knew she hadn't gotten much sleep, so I'd told her to get some more rest.

I was just walking past the blacksmith, its outdoor forge sitting cold and unlit.I could hear the clattering of activity further past the anvil in the shadows of the workshop. Clearly there was someone moving about in the pre-dawn light arranging their tools for the day. I quickened my pace a little. There was someone who worked at the blacksmith that I very much did not want to run into.

I had just made it past the blacksmith's shop when a voice called out from behind me. "Hey iner-spawn, what's the hurry?"

Ah fuck, I summoned him.

I stopped and turned to see a young man step out of the shadows of the blacksmith workshop. His blonde hair was shaved short at the sides, with the hair on top of his head left longer. There was a faint hint of stubble over his top lip, which was currently curled into a sneer. I sighed.

"What do ya want Trent?" I asked. "I'm busy."

I wanted nothing more than to ignore him, but I knew from past experience that if I showed anything that resembled fear then this turd blossom would only start acting out worse.

Trent scoffed as he walked closer to me. He was rolling up the sleeves of the already dirty shirt he wore under his heavy apron. "That's not very friendly," he said. "I just wanted to find out where the stench of iner was coming from so early in the morning. Didn't know it was going to be one of the idiots who can't even keep a fall from falling down."

Ugh I want to punch him in the face.

He had stopped in front of me, just a little too close to me to be comfortable, and leered down at me. This was a favourite move of his after we had hit our teens and he had outgrown me. You'd think he'd be sick of it after all these years. I touched the pouch holding the blackberry seeds. The temptation to tangle him up in a vine and leave him there was strong. Trent lent down and prodded me hard in the chest with one finger.

"Saw you riding in with those guards yesterday. What happened, you get arrested?" He smiled broadly and narrowed his eyes. "Or did some old noble take you in as a bed warmer?"

Yeah, I'm gonna cut him.

I grabbed hold of the pouch of blackberry seeds and pulled the knot loose, starting to draw on my magic.

"Miss Rowan?" a man called.

Trent took a step back and looked up as I turned. Captain Strykar was close behind us holding two horses. One was the black one he had ridden yesterday, and the other was a light cream mare I didn't recall seeing before. I was a little surprised I hadn't heard him approach. The Captain stared at Trent a moment before looking back at me.

"We need to be leaving now if we are to make it to Windscar before evening." he said.

Trent guffawed, beginning to walk backwards away from me. "Right, I'll talk to you next time iner-scum."

Captain Strykar levelled a glare at Trent that made me want to flinch away. "Oh? I wasn't aware such an outdated word was still being used in this duchy," he said. I could nearly feel the ice dripping from his voice.

Trent's face began to pale, seeming to just now notice the fine steel and gold chest armour the Captain wore with the howling wolf insignia of the Lycan Group.

"You are aware the Duke himself is an 'iner', as you would put it. I'm sure he'd be interested to hear how his subjects view him. Perhaps I should take a report with your name, so he may discuss this with you himself?" Captain Strykar asked. His dark eyes seemed to be trying to bore a hole into Trent's head.

Trent was now sickly pale, backing away quickly and almost tripping over his feet as he shook his head.

"That's not.. I didn't mean.. No, no sir, sorry sir. It won't happen again," he stammered before almost running back into the blacksmith.

I snorted. That absolute idiot. The word 'iner' was used as a slur against those who didn't possess magic, mainly harkening back to the time the non-magical people were enslaved. Some magus still refused to acknowledge the non-magical as equal, with Trent and his family being amongst them. The day he had discovered that my mother didn't possess magic was the day Trent seemed to take it upon himself to make mine and Mason's lives hell. Though the physical bullying had stopped quite quickly after Mason and I had trapped the little turd inside a tree for a day, it hadn't prevented him from throwing verbal barbs our way whenever he saw us.

Captain Strykar looked at me sideways, one corner of his mouth lifting just a little. He tilted his head back the way he'd come. "We had best be going. The others will have broken camp by now."

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He handed me the reins to the cream coloured mare. "You'll be riding this one. It's too far a journey for you to double on another's horse," he said.

I took the reins and thanked him, holding my hand up to the horse's nose. She snuffled my hand then snorted, butting her head against me so I'd scratch her ears. I couldn't help but smile. She was sweet. We walked together out of the village, neither of us speaking.

The other four members of the Lycan Guard were nearby the outskirts of the village, all already mounted on their respective horses. The cold remnants of a fire lay close to where they stood, all that remained of their camp. Jayce shot me a grin as we arrived, revealing a dimple on his right cheek.

Captain Strykar and I mounted our horses once we came level with the group. With a quick glance over at each member to ensure they were ready, he gave the order and we all set our horses to trot along the road.

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It was a days ride from Crosset to the city of Windscar where the ducal couple resided. We crossed the wooden bridge that spanned the river running behind Crosset and made our way through the gently rolling hills covered in long swaying grass on its other side. Ahead of us, a little flock of falnits took flight - small fluffy white creatures with large eyes and long ears tipped with dark brown. The same brown spread over their wings in a mottled pattern, and a long whippy tail ended with a tuft of brown feathers. They chittered as they swirled around us once before flying off out of sight.

Jayce was riding alongside me, and brought his horse closer. "I take it you ran into a bit of trouble this morning," he said.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "How did you know that?"

He chuckled, and glanced to where the Captain rode a little ways ahead of us before leaning in and lowering his voice. "Whenever the Captain has that look on his face, it means someone is about to get their heads knocked around," he said.

"You would know," said the man who carried a bow riding just behind us - Ethan, I think he'd said his name was. "He most often directs that look at you whenever you miss training."

The other two men in the group chuckled while Jayce rolled his eyes and shook his head towards me. "I don't miss training that much," he said.

"What was your excuse last time?" Ethan continued, ignoring Jayce's pointed glare. "The baker's daughter smiled at you, which meant she must have fallen for you, so you just had to take her a large bunch of flowers and make a grand display of announcing your love for her."

Liam, the other spearman with darker skin and short black hair laughed. "That's right! She dumped a whole sack of flour on you and told you to get lost. You turned up late to training absolutely covered in the stuff, you looked like a damned ghost!"

"And the Captain had you run laps of the field carrying a full sack of flour until you puked as punishment," Hunter, the last member of the group and the one who carried a sword and buckler, supplied with a grin.

The conversation quickly devolved to all the men recounting stories of each time one or the other had missed or been late to training, with many of the stories involving embarrassing punishments the Captain had doled out in response. I couldn't help but laugh along with them. Captain Strykar glanced back at us a few times, but didn't join in or prevent us from chatting.

After a while, Jayce made a dismissive gesture with his hands. "Anyway," he said, "back to what I was originally trying to ask. What happened this morning to get the Captain so steamed?"

I sighed and scratched my neck. "I had the displeasure of running into one of the village elitists. He's the sort who likes to insult any non-magical folk, and people he considers beneath him, which is most everybody."

Hunter made a disgusted noise, and wrinkled up his nose as though smelling something foul. "I can't believe there are people who think that way so close to the Wall. Don't they realise nearly the entire Deadwall Guard is made up of non-magicals?"

I shrugged. I had stopped wondering about Trent's attitude years ago. "I dunno. His family have always made a big deal out of being a 'pure magus' family. You should hear their rants on how intermarriage between a magus and non-magical shouldn't be allowed."

"That's ridiculous," Ethan said, shaking his head. "If magus hadn't started marrying the non-magicals then all fire magus would have died out by now."

We continued chatting as we rode, the topic gradually changing to various happenings in the city and surrounds. I found myself enjoying listening to them talk, and the time passed by quickly.

The wind steadily picked up as we travelled. By the time we had stopped for a quick lunch of hard bread and jerky, I could smell a hint of the sharp briney-ness of the sea. As we continued on, the occasional seagull would drift overhead, squawking as it rode the wind.

Trees became gradually more scarce, replaced instead with low hardy shrubs. The terrain was becoming more rocky, and I could see small clusters of boulders poking out of the rustling grass. As the horses began to climb yet another hill, the sound of crashing waves met my hears. At the top of the rise, surrounded by the sound of gulls and howling wind that whipped my braid and the skirt of my dress around me, Windscar came into view.

The port city sat atop a huge jagged cliff, the whitewashed buildings seeming to blend into the sun bleached rock. Roofs were painted an array of colours. The blues, pinks, greens, yellows and oranges resembled flowers growing in a field. A path was carved into the cliff that snaked its way down to the water and met a wide jetty. Ships both large and small with their sails neatly drawn bobbed against the docks.

People scurried to a fro on one of the larger ships. I saw they were unloading its cargo onto waiting wagons that were pulled by pairs of large shaggy draft horses. Other such carts could be seen making their way along the path in the cliff face. The occasional unintelligible shout drifted up to us on the wind. A few seals could be seen lounging on the end of one of the unused docks.

The cliff that the city sat upon made up one half of a long natural inlet. We were currently traversing the opposite side, with the cliff we were closest to being significantly lower than the other. The ground began to slope sharply upwards as we neared the city. The inlet created a safe harbour for the ships, with the open sea swells and gusting winds blocked by the stone. The river we had crossed near Crosset had woven its way around to the coast, and fell into the ocean as an impressive waterfall near the entrance of the inlet.

As we followed the road closer to Windscar, I saw the entrance of the city was bordered by two large carved statues of sitting wolves, each holding a burning lantern in its mouth. The statues rose to the height of at least three men, and were made from a glossy black stone. The image of a wolf was commonly used in Ardere, especially in conjunction with fire. The God of Fire - Bolcan - who resides in this land, was said to take on the visage of a giant wolf. Many believed having a wolf watch over a doorway would keep whoever dwelled within safe. The nobles of this country had also taken to the habit of taming and raising wolves within their estate as a form of lucky mascot.

A guard stood before each statue. Both were clad in a long, dark grey tunic with a leather cuirass secured over top. Their arms were strapped with leather braces, and both held a long spear with a polished steel blade on one end. Their heads were covered with a simple helm that had two elongated flaps that covered their cheeks and reached down to their chin.

One of the guards gave a curt nod to Captain Strykar, who returned the nod in kind. We passed through the wolf statues and entered Windscar amidst a bustling crowd of people.