Stars glittered like gems across the ink black night sky. The ruins around the lumber mill were completely silent and yet Rhania’s heart was pounding as her eyes looked around for danger. Her instincts had roused her, and it took her a moment to realize what was amiss. The bedroll she had lent the children to share was empty.

She looked around and jumped when she realized Marcy, the girl, was standing stock still, half a dozen paces away from her. Something was wrong about her. She was barefoot and it was freezing out. Frostbite was not out of the question if she hadn’t any footwear. Had she and her brother been barefoot when they met? Her sleep befuddled brain struggled to remember.

“I just needed the toilet,” she said in a small voice.

“Where’s your brother?” Rhania asked, keeping her voice as gentle as she could. There was no reason to traumatize the poor girl over her paranoia.

Marcy looked over her shoulder at a ruined workshop behind her and Rhania followed her gaze. As she did, she heard padded steps behind her. She whirled around just in time to see Jan, the boy, leap towards her. Starlight glinted off something in his hand and Rhania grabbed him by the wrist with one hand and attempted to push his head away as he fell on top of her.

The boy thrashed around with surprising strength, and Rhania, unable to tap into the flow of natural energy, struggled to push him off. Meanwhile, in the corner of her eye, she saw Marcy looking for an opening as she approached them cautiously.

Having no other choice, Rhania reached for the dagger she kept at the small of her back and winced as Jan rained ferocious punches down on her face with his free hand. She let out a ferocious roar as she plunged the dagger into his side. The boy’s body shuddered and continued to pummel her face, but there was less strength behind each blow. Summoning the remainder of her strength, she threw the boy off and sprang to her feet.

Marcy, who had been poised to strike, stopped in her tracks. She hissed at her brother, who, to Rhania’s surprise, sprang to his feet and tackled Marcy in the midsection. Instead of falling into a heap, the children’s bodies began to fuse and melt into one another. Without waiting to see what the macabre outcome would be, Rhania scooped her bow up and fired an arrow that struck the creature that was now as large as an adult human in the midsection. However, she wasn’t able to draw the bowstring as far back as she’d liked, and the arrow only inflicted a flesh wound.

The creature was covered in pale white skin and had a noseless face and bloodshot eyes. It grunted in pain before charging at Rhania. The half elf sidestepped the clumsy charge and kicked the creature’s feet out from under it, sending it sprawling to the ground.

She hurriedly created some distance between her and it before firing off another shot. She cursed as it went wild. She had tried to put more power behind this one, and the lectures her captain had given her on being over reliant on augmenting her strength with the flow of natural magic were beginning to hit home.

The creature snarled as it picked itself up. Rhania glanced at the huge sword lying by her bedroll, hoping that the creature didn’t realize that she now lacked the strength to wield it properly. The feint worked, and it hissed as it positioned itself between her and the sword.

Rhania used the opening to attack with her dagger. Praying that the powers of the God of Light could still be called upon in these lands, Rhania leapt forward and muttered an incantation. Light erupted around the dagger as she attempted to plunge it into the creature’s chest. However, her swing wasn’t as fast as she had envisioned, and she could see it move to block her blow. Rhania changed the course of her blow mid-swing and was able to slash the creature across the ribs. The creature shrieked as it struck Rhania across the chest with its arm, sending her flying back a good twenty feet.

Though her chest was sore, and she was badly winded, Rhania was able to use the force of the blow to roll neatly onto her feet and readied her bow and dagger. The creature, though, had had enough and let out a ferocious growl before retreating into the night.

Completely spent from the fight, Rhania used all her remaining strength to remain standing upright and fervently hoped it was enough to intimidate the creature into not returning. She held her combat ready pose for what felt like an eternity before slumping to the ground.

Her body began to tremble, and she knew she’d had a lucky escape. She had felt the absence of natural energy the moment she’d set foot in the town and was unable to appreciate how much it would impact her ability to fight. To make matters worse, she had trusted a pair of children she had met under suspicious circumstances. It was a bad lapse on both accounts, and she was lucky to be alive.

Then there was the matter of the children and the creature they had morphed into. It was a changeling! Now that she had a moment to compose her thoughts, she remembered that she’d read about them during her training. They were servants of the Dark Gods and hadn’t been seen since The Fall. Had she encountered one or two? The texts said nothing of an ability to meld together. Were they in league with her ambushers? Who had such creatures under their influence? Were the townspeople working in league with the ambushers? Was Sir Duglin? So many unanswered questions, and loathe as she was to admit it, she was unable to find the answers on her own in her current state. She would have to seek help, and the nearest help was her mother’s people across the river.

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

It was in the early hours of the morning and most of the town was still fast asleep when a small rowboat slipped from its moorings with two occupants. Rhania sat on the prow, keeping a careful eye on the man on the oars.

The man stifled a yawn as he skilfully sculled the boat out of the empty docks and onto the open river. The waters were calm, and the man made swift progress under Rhania’s careful eyes. He hadn’t been amongst the men who had accosted her the day before and had removed her Arbiter’s badge, in case that was the reason she was being targeted, but there was no hiding the fact that she was an outsider in this small town. He gave her a sideways glance and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the attention of a pretty young thing like you,” he said. “But I’m beginning to feel a little uncomfortable, you know?”

Rhania nodded but said nothing as she shifted her gaze slightly so that the man was only in the periphery of her vision. She trusted no one town. Not after what happened last night. Once she gathered her things she had come to the docks to wait for someone to take her across. It was fortunate that Rignard happened to have trouble sleeping and came out to inspect his rowboat. Or was it another ambush?

“You’re here to sort the elves out, aren’t you?” Rignard ventured.

Rhania’s eyes bored into him once more as she tried to see if there was any hidden meaning behind the man’s words. At length, she nodded warily.

“Torance, the man who got killed was a dear friend of mine,” the man remarked. “Lent him my boat against my better judgement.”

“Do you seek revenge for his death?” Rhania asked.

Rignard shook his head. “No, no… I’m just wondering if I’m sending another to their death.”

“I will be responsible for my own choices,” Rhania replied.

Rignard nodded. “How do you plan to get past the mist?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Rhania replied.

“I should warn you, I don’t plan on coming after you if you get yourself lost,” Rignard warned. “I have a family to look after, so I’m leaving as soon as you get off, and I won’t look back.”

“That’s fine.”

They soon arrived at the opposite bank. Rhania glanced over her shoulder before returning her attention to the man. Not knowing who to trust was exhausting and she was looking forward to being on her own if only for a little while.

Cautiously, she stepped onto the crumbly yellow dirt and at once felt the flow of energy beneath her feat. It was weak here where the trees had been cleared, but present. A mist seemed to materialize out of thin air and by the time she pushed the rowboat back into the water, it was already so thick that she couldn’t see Rignard who was less than five feet away.

“It’s not too late if you want to go back,” Rignard’s disembodied voice called out from the rapidly thickening mist. “Just get into the water and the mist will disappear. I’ll take you back.”

“I’ll be fine,” Rhania said, feeling invigorated after tapping the natural magic flowing beneath her feet. “Go on, go back to your family.”

Rhania waited until the sounds of oars dipping in the water faded into the distance before turning her attention to the mists that swirled around her. She extended her senses and detected a familiar magic running through it. It reached back, and she felt something within it regard her inquisitively.

Her pulse began to race. She’d read about this spell. The mists of befuddlement, an enchantment upon elven lands that were designed to keep trespassers out through non violent means.

“Ishvaelya,” she said and held her breath.

After a pause, something sighed within the mists, but they did not thin. Instead, she could sense a thread of magic cut through the mists. It formed a path through the mists. She didn’t know where it would lead her, but something else in the mists caused the hairs on her neck to stand on end. Carried by some unknown enchantment was a warning for her to be careful. There was something else out there. Something dangerous.

Rhania readied her bow as she padded forward down the invisible path laid out before her. Despite being unable to see anything, there was something nostalgic about the mists. It wrapped around her like a familiar blanket, letting her know that it would do its best to keep her from harm.

Soon, the mists began to thin, and the sense of urgency faded with it, and Rhania realized that she had entered the forest and was now surrounded by towering white barked trees. Even though winter was around the corner, and the branches of the trees further south had turned bare, their leaves were still green and verdant. The scent of magic was strong in the air and coursed underfoot. A smile crept across Rhania’s face. She was now in the midst of an actual elven forest.

However, the magical path had disappeared with the mists. Unafraid, Rhania took in her surroundings. With the mists gone, birds had begun to sing. Squirrels emerged from their holes and considered the new arrival with curiosity before going about their foraging. Rhania couldn’t help but smile to herself. This was how all forests should be: teaming with life that was unafraid of their elven tenders.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when realized there was a figure clad in a light grey cloak staring at her less than ten feet from where she was standing. Her first instinct was to admonish herself. How could she let someone get so close to her? In a forest no less. Then, she realized the one watching her was an elf. She was lightly clad despite the weather and wore clothes that resembled leaves which seemed to grow from her body. Rhania’s eyes widened.

“A Whisperer,” she gasped.

To her surprise, the elf bowed with grace Rhania didn’t think possible. She returned the gesture, but it felt crude and almost insulting in comparison.

“Have you answered our call for aid, sister?” the elf asked in elvish as he pulled the hood of his cloak back to reveal a stern face that had an ageless beauty to it.

Rhania knew etiquette demanded that she reveal her face and slowly pulled her hood back. The elf recoiled in horror, and before Rhania could explain, she felt cold steel press against her neck.

“What manner of abomination are you?” a voice demanded from behind her in Ildruni, the common language of the Shattered Empire.