Neria sighed as she stepped off of the ship and onto the plank leading to solid ground. Finally, she thought. I hate boats. She had spent the last few weeks on one as she returned to Solito, the continent she usually called home. The sight of the city caused her tail to wag just a little faster, the prospect of being able to live in her own home again bringing her more joy than she had thought it would.

A few of the people greeted her as she passed; some with words, and others with a subtle nod. Neria might not be as widely known as her mother had been, but as an adviser to the Council, most people would at least know of her. That she looked a lot like her mother, and therefore their ancestral founder, only added to that.

The looks she got here, however, were those of admiration or simple curiosity, quite unlike what she had to endure on Vetus. Not that many Beastkin had made their way back to the Cursed Continent, the deeds of the old empires that once resided there not yet forgotten.

For most, there was no need to leave Solito, as it was by far the biggest continent in both size and population. While Ebenlowe might be a big city, it paled when in comparison to Foderys. The capital might not be home to the [Guides] like the island city was, but it had its own sets of guilds that enjoyed world wide recognition. The oldest — and most influential — branch of the Adventurer's Guild called Foderys its home, after all.

Neria stopped by a small stall, putting a few copper coins on the counter. "Two Jeyli, please."

The man running the stall grunted and swiped the coins off the counter, replacing them with the two fried fish Neria had requested. She took them, offering a small nod before she continued on her way.

It might have struck an outsider as odd, that she chose fish as her first meal when back on land. Doubly so when one considered that the main meal on the ship consisted of the exact same species of fish. But for her at least, the small grey and black fish, fried in oil that would not pass any reasonable health inspection, was an indicator of home. A feeling she had lacked on Vetus.

Her stay in the frontier village in the Eternal Forest had been cut short after that strange Elf had turned up; they had sent most home after Ira and his paladin guard left. Though, now that Vigil and Inanis are gone, that village is definitely gone. Most of its protections had been provided by those two deities, their churches footing most of the bill that the excavation they performed brought with it. A morbid part of her almost wanted to go back, to linger and watch as the followers of the now-dead Gods slowly descended into madness as they tried to find a new deity that would take them in. Not that that should be hard.

Neria herself had converted from Lor'Kem to Kensar early on in her life, the God of Battle and the Hunt much more fitting for her personality than Might and the Sea. What is Might even supposed to mean? That she also did not like the sea only furthered her desire to switch deities.

Lor'kem's church had not liked her switch of faith, having barred her from entering any of their institutions ever since. There were a few other deities that openly frowned upon mortals that dared change their faith, but most others did not care much, seeming sufficiently happy if a mortal searched for a God that better suited their personality.

Neria took another bite of the fried fish as she rounded another corner, finally coming up on the main market square. Proper stores slowly overtook dinky carts and ramshackle sheds, signs of civilization she had missed in the frontier village.

"Finally back, miss Neria?"

The Beastkin stopped at the words, turning her head to see the speaker. It was a young man of Lycan decent like herself. His fur was not the mottled brown she and her mother shared, but an almost radiant gold. She did not need to see the insignia he carried on the dragon-mail he wore; there was only one tribe on Verenier that had golden fur like that.

Neria turned to fully face the [Ancestral Guardsman], bowing deeply and almost dropping her fish. "Indeed, I have returned. The news I bear is sadly not so kind."

"That is sad to hear," the Beastkin said. "But it is of no matter at the moment. I have been ordered to bring you to the Council once you return. So please, follow me."

Neria swallowed slightly before she nodded to herself and fell into step behind the Guardsman. She shouldn't be nervous about being summoned to the council — she worked for them after all — but them sending an [Ancestral Guardsman] meant that something was off.

On the surface, the Tribe of the Ancestors did nothing more than run Foderys. They staffed all the official buildings, supplied the guard, and generally handled the day-to-day activities that were required to run a city. Neria, however, knew that they did a lot more.

They enforced neutrality in the council, none of their members ever taking part in any disputes between the tribes. None usually left the city either, unless it was absolutely necessary. Sometimes it was unavoidable – their duty as mediators required elsewhere, or their assistance called upon to guard delegations to other nations.

The greater part of their duties, however, lay here in Foderys. The vast histories of all the tribes would not collect and sort itself, after all. Neither would any tribe accept a marriage not officiated by one of the [Ancestral Guard]. They also maintained their own version of The Record the [Guides] had, one they claimed was more accurate.

The thing that made Neria respect them the most, however, was their unwavering devotion to their cause. Milennia ago, when Foderys had been raided, the [Ancestral Guard] had fought to their last to defend the city from invaders. The ones that had had the greatest failure of all — failing to protect the leader of the Lycan tribe that was Neria's own distant ancestor — later took their own lives to repay that irreparable blunder.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

While it was a bit too far for her, she could understand why they had done it. Any [Ancestral Guardsman] would rather die than fail in their mission. Good thing they rarely fail. She was not privy to specifics, as those were reserved for the Elders on the council, but she had heard tell that no-one below level four hundred was permitted to enter active service as a Guardsman.

Still a long way to go for me. She had wanted to join the Guardsman ever since she first knew of them, but the world saw it fit to throw a great many wrenches into her plan. First had been the death of her father, and while she was reeling from that loss, her mother had disappeared. Neria was without siblings, so if whoever responsible for the abduction and murder of her parents was after the eradication of her entire family, she was clearly next on the chopping block.

Neria shuddered slightly at the thought. She had hoped her expedition into the Eternal Forest would have yielded some answers, as the Elders had suggested. The arrival of that Elf, and the subsequent fall of Vigil and Inanis, only served to provide an almost infinite amount of new questions. She glanced at the remaining fish she had and put it into her bag of holding, her appetite having been thoroughly quashed.

Maybe that Elf was who I was supposed to find? The Elders had never told her what, exactly, she was supposed to be seeking; only that she would be able to find something at that distant village location. She had asked them for clarification before her departure but had only been met with silence.

"Something on your mind, miss Neria?" the Guardsman asked as he held open the door so Neria might step into the council building.

"You don't get an escort from a Guardsman to the council every day," Neria replied. "It does have me a bit worried."

The man chuckled as she stepped past. "Nothing to worry about, they simply wanted to ensure your speedy arrival. The council is very interested in what you have to say. Even if the news is not good."

The words failed to reassure Neria; she couldn't quite imagine that they would be happy with what she had to report. Which is nothing. She had managed to acquire some more information about the empire that had raided the city millennia ago — it wasn't exactly nothing — but factual tidbits for the Archivars was not what she had hoped to find.

"Please, follow me," the Guardsman said again as he started to walk through the spacious hall.

Neria did as she was told, falling in behind the man. Her steps echoed through the building, the polished marble floor, while pretty, not the most silent of materials. Not that it mattered; the noise of her steps simply joined that of the others as there were a great many people hurrying about in the Council hall.

Her destination, however, was vastly different from the others. Neria and the Guardsman were heading towards a rather unremarkable door that was guarded by two other Guardsmen. They nodded at their compatriot as he opened the door and stood aside so that Neria might pass.

"Please, the Council awaits."

After a shallow nod, Neria stepped past the Guardsmen and into the Council’s wing. The noise of the city and hall itself were silenced as soon as the door closed behind her. The [Ancestral Guardsman] had not joined her inside, obviously not invited to stand before the Elders. Steeling herself for the encounter, Neria made her way through the small collections of rooms that were situated in front of the [Chamber of Voices]. She received a few nods from the staff as they went about their business, but ignored most of them, her mind focused on the meeting she was about to attend.

Her hand did not even touch the metal of the chamber doors before it swung open, another [Ancestral Guardsman] inviting her in with a slightly bowed head and a sweeping motion of her arm. Neria could not help but notice the engraved falchion that hung at her hip, a weapon she very much wanted to carry herself but would not be able to wield. For now.

"Neria Kellborn." The words of the [Keeper of Voices] echoed through the chamber, silencing the Elders that had talked amongst themselves. "Your arrival has been eagerly awaited. With the recent fall of the Despicable and the Liar, we are most eager to hear your report."

Neria winced slightly at the titles the Keeper used for Vigil and Inanis, still finding the idea of addressing what were once actual deities in such a way to be a bad idea. Despite the discomfort she felt, Neria straightened her back and made her way to the centre of the chamber. None of the Elders spoke as they, prompted by the words of the Keeper, waited for Neria to begin her report.

After she had lightly cleared her throat — the gentle noise of which carried, via enchantments in the podium in front of her, throughout the entire chamber — Neria began to speak. "I am saddened to report that I have not been able to find any conclusive evidence to the whereabouts of Moria Kellborn. The only hint at new knowledge came from an Elven mage who mistook me for the first Kellborn, leading me to believe she knew my mother. Sadly, I was not able to question her further. The only information I have on her is the name 'Aperio' and that she left the village in the Eternal Forest for Ebenlowe.

"I did, however, acquire some more information for the Archivists. The empire that raided Foderys and captured the first Moria Kellborn was the same one that brought about the Fall of Vetus with their ritual. While this has been suspected before, we now have definitive confirmation."

"We know the woman you speak of," the Keeper replied. "She is not an Elven mage, however. Aperio, Sacrae Numen Ea. The All-Mother. The Creator. Those are just a few of the names we discovered in the archives. That she knew the first Kellborn was something we did not know, however, and will require a change of your next mission."

"Next mission?" Neria asked. She was supposed to complete her history studies after the excursion to Vetus, a task that would take at least another year.

"Your application to become a Guardsman has been expedited, and accepted. We hope the training will help you in your mission to find and make contact with the Creator. You are likely asking yourself why we do not send a Guardsman we already have — understandable — but we have reason to believe that the Creator would not be willing to speak to just anyone. It has been many millennia since the Archivists have heard of her being on Verenier, after all.

"With the recent shake down of the pantheon, however, the Council has concluded that bringing into the light the motivations of the strongest Goddess we know should take precedent. We hope that your connection to the first Kellborn will help in this endeavour."

Neria could only stare at the [Keeper of Voices], her mind struggling to comprehend what he had just said. Her dream was coming true, yes, but she was also supposed to make contact with a woman that had apparently created everything they knew. A notion she couldn't quite believe, when she thought back to her encounter with Aperio.

"Do you accept your [Ancestral Call], Neria Kellborn?"

Neria swallowed slightly before slightly bowing her head. "Yes."