After her somewhat lousy start, things got worse for Relma. It was nice to practice with swords and shields. It certainly was better scullery work and odd jobs. But Relma soon learned it didn't catch her interest as hoped. Argath Marn was a hard trainer and kept them drilling constantly.

Relma found she was learning a great deal from him rapidly. Her skill with a spear increased a great deal. And she learned the basics of wielding a sword quickly. But quick or not, there was always more to learn. And Argath was always pressing her to learn it.

Tanith made it worse. Not because Relma had been chosen for her ire. But because the blonde girl was enormously creative.

As it turned out, Tanith was perhaps the most hated person in the castle. Or at least among the servants. What Relma saw of the knights told her that she was well-liked by them. She saw Tanith and the others drinking in the mead halls and telling stories of her exploits. Tanith's had apparently been bloody, and Relma wondered if they were true. She hoped not.

Unfortunately, Tanith's entertainments were more than just drinking and tale-telling. The girl took delight in forcing people who were lower ranked than her to do all kinds of pointless chores.

"I don't understand why the Steward tolerates her," said Relma.

"She was brought here by Lord Argath Marn," said Estela. "Apparently, they both fought together in the same campaign."

"But why doesn't he reign her in?" asked Relma. "Or why doesn't the Steward have her leave?"

"Tanith is a good swordsman," said Estela.

"That's it?" asked Relma.

"An excellent swordsman," said Estela. "One of the best. She's a valuable addition to the guard. And she mostly focuses on people who are beneath notice. She can get away with things as long as she doesn't hurt anyone."

"Where did she come from anyway?" asked Relma. "And why does she think Aren and Aunt Pan are charlatans?"

"She was raised in Carn Gable, actually," said Estela. "The household of Duke Vanion. Personal friends with his son, apparently."

"So what's she doing all the way down here?" asked Relma.

"She came here with Lord Marn," said Estela.

"That reminds me," said Relma, "what is Marn doing all the way down here in the south? He was ruling Artarq once, wasn't he?"

"He was," said Estela. "But Duke Vanion revealed a conspiracy against King Andoa II by Duke Borinius. Marn was personal friends with Borinius, and he was discredited by association.

"He lost his status as governor and has had to make his living as a mercenary since. Steward Benarus hired him to train his soldiers a few years ago."

"But Marn said he fought alongside my father in the Black Marsh campaign," said Relma.

"You'll have to ask him," said Estela. "That was a long time ago. Younger sons usually go adventuring to fight in faraway places. I doubt Marn is the exception, even if he is adopted."

"In any case," said Relma, "if Marn and Vanion hate each other so much, why did he take a beast like Tanith under his wing?"

"Tanith is the favorite student of Raynald De Chevlon," said Estela. "The swordmaster of Carn Gable. Raynald and Marn are on good terms thanks to fighting together in several campaigns.

"It's probably for Raynald's sake."

"This is absurdly overcomplicated," said Relma.

"It is complicated," said Estela. "But the game of kings and nobles is complicated by necessity. It takes a bit of work to follow, I know."

After a few weeks, Relma began getting a handle on everything. Somewhat. She could discern which names were essential and which were unimportant. Some of the noble houses also stood out. Pretty soon, she had a good understanding of House Gabriel. Through them, she learned about their feud with House De Chevlon.

Relma felt she could study this forever and still had no idea what she was discussing.

And then, one day, Aren came walking through the gates in his usual garb. His cloak was a little singed, and his beard was a little shorter. Like he'd had to cut it. She met him. "Aren, you're back!" she cried. She hugged him.

"Yes, dear girl," said Aren. "I am back for the moment."

Relma broke the embrace. "What happened? Did you get through to Wrynncurth?"

"Somewhat," admitted Aren. "I've convinced him to pressure Telix to stop his raids, but that only treats the symptom. At the least, I've learned what the mess was about."

"What was it?" asked Relma.

"Some fool adventurer broke into the dragon's lair and stole some of the treasure from the lair," said Aren. "Black dragons seal their soul within their hoard to stave off Alchara's curse. Whoever it was then distributed the gold across the villagers' fields.

"If I get my hands on the wretch, I'll have words with him; he might not survive. Though he may be dead already."

"What was that about a curse?" asked Relma.

"What has your aunt been teaching you, girl?" asked Aren. "The Goddess Alchara of the High Elves laid a curse on the entire black dragon race. It doomed all of them to a slow-wasting death. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say she created the black dragons through the curse. Either way, Wrynncurth found a way to beat off the spell by sealing his soul inside gold. Of course, as the dragon gets larger, they need more treasure.

"Robbing a black dragon's hoard is a good way to earn their eternal hatred."

"What happened to Smyngoth anyway?" asked Relma. "Is he really sleeping beneath the Black Mountain?"

"He is," said Aren. "And if you are wise, you will never consider waking him up. He was always an unreasonable fellow when angry, and the disease did no favors to his sanity. Now I have to speak with the steward.

"Where is your aunt?"

"She hasn't gotten back yet," said Relma.

"Odd. It's far longer to Wrynncurth than to the forest," said Aren. "Once I've spoken with Benarus, I'll investigate the matter."

At that moment, Ronald rushed up to them. He looked like he was in a panic. "Relma! Where have you been?"

"What is it, Ronald?" asked Relma.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Sir Argath has called for us," said Ronald. "He wants everyone to practice their shield wall formation."

"Again?" asked Relma. "All right, let's go."

As they ran to get their kits together, Aren kept pace. He didn't run, just walked in a leisurely fashion. Yet, somehow he was right alongside them as they sprinted to their quarters.

"Speaking of which, how is your training going?" asked Aren.

"It's far harder," said Relma as she donned her armor. "I have to spend every day training for war instead of just off days. But on the brighter side, I don't have to do scullery work."

"Less talking, more training, now come on!" said Ronald.

The practice was more grueling than usual. By the end, Ronald looked like he wanted to curl into her bed and die. However, first, they had to put away everything they had been using in the proper place. Argath was very insistent about that. Relma was very tired, but it didn't get to her all that much.

This was good because they had all kinds of other duties to attend to in the meantime. At last, they finished and dragged themselves back to their beds. The sun sank beyond the walls, bathing the world in orange light.

"Ugh, I am so tired," said Ronald. "I swear if I have to do one more day of this, I will break."

"Oh, come on, Ronald. It isn't that bad," said Relma. "At least we're away from home."

"Easy for you to say," said Ronald. "You're family came with you."

"And immediately went off to negotiate with demons," noted Relma.

"I guess," said Ronald. "How do you think all this is going to turn out?"

"Aren and Aunt Pan will take care of it," said Relma. "They're two of the most powerful sorcerers in the world. Maybe the most powerful. They can handle it."

"I hope you're right," said Ronald. "Maybe I'll get to go home if they finish this." Relma looked up in surprise. "Don't you like training to be a knight?"

"No," admitted Ronald. "I preferred training with the halfling militia. I knew the people there. I don't know anyone here."

"Well, why don't you get to know them?" asked Relma.

"Good night," grunted Ronald, meaning the conversation was ending.

"Good night," said Relma.

She stayed in her bed, looking up at the stonework of the ceiling for a long time. As she did, she wondered why you could never remember falling asleep. Or waking up, for that matter. The moments between dream and reality didn't exist. She must have fallen asleep at some point because she awoke with a start, only to be forced back down. Above her was a shadowy figure in the shape of a man. But there were ears like those of a wolf and fur.

"Evening, milady." said a growling voice.

"Who are you-" began Relma.

Then, a rag was forced to her lips, and everything darkened.

When Relma came to, there was a gag in her mouth, and she was shaken. Gel Carn was shrinking into the distance. Already, several villages were between her and it. Relma struggled, but her legs were tied together. Her arms were forced behind her back, and she was carried over one shoulder. A clawlike furry hand was gripping her from behind. She kicked and screamed, trying to free herself, but the ropes on her were far too tight. Whoever it was clenched a hand in surprise.

"Don't bother." said the voice. "We're already near the eaves of the forest. No one can hear you." Relma kept screaming. Partially in case, he was wrong and partly to spite him.

"That cloth should have kept you silent for hours," muttered whoever it was.

Relma kept kicking. She managed to get him in the stomach, and he keeled over and dropped her. Relma landed on the ground and began to inch away. However, before she could get far, he was on her. He turned her around, and she saw her captor.

He was incredibly handsome. His hair was wild and white as the snow around his tan skin. He looked about her age, and his eyes were a fiery red. She kicked him in the stomach again. Or tried. This time, he caught it.

"You really aren't going to stop, are you?" asked her captor, catching her legs between his arms. "Stop kicking. It's irritating."

Relma pulled herself up and headbutted him in the face. Stunned, he stepped back a few paces, and she began to inch away again. Then he was on her again and forced that damn rag into her face again. "You know, I think I like you. You've got spirit."

This time, Relma did not fall unconscious. Instead, she found her limbs going loose as he hoisted her over his shoulder and kept moving. He sprinted with incredible speed and soon passed the eaves of the forest. Then he turned aside and leaped into the trees. Relma was scraped by the bushes.

Why was he hiding?

"Is something wrong?" asked someone.

"I sense something," said Sir Frederick's voice. "A lingering darkness. Be careful." Relma knew that rescue was not far. She just had to shout. But she could hardly summon the will to move. Move. Move. Move.

Something surged through her. Relma felt the toxins within her purge themselves from her body. So she started yelling at the top of her lungs.

"Quiet!" hissed the boy. "Do you want us to get caught?"

"Mmmph!" answered Relma.

"Right," said the boy, "stupid question."

Then he leaped out from the underbrush. Before him was Sir Frederick and another soldier. They held their weapons at the ready.

"So it is you, Ajax," said Frederick. "Once again, your vile nature has made itself known."

"Frederick, I see you're as self-righteous as always," said Ajax.

"I will not allow you to devour that maiden!" said Frederick.

"Devour?" asked Ajax. "I'm not going to eat her! I'm just going to force her to marry me and use her as a hostage to keep Gail Arengeth out of Father's business!"

Frederick charged forward, bringing around his spear. But Ajax vaulted over the blow and made for the forest. However, Frederick spun his spear, and Ajax was hit in the legs. The wolf boy caught himself on his left hand and pushed himself into the air. Relma was thrown off to land hard on the ground. It hurt.

Ajax took a stance, baring his claws.

"Vile fiend!" said Frederick. "Are you alright, milady?"

"Mmmph," said Relma.

Out of the trees came dozens upon dozens of men trailing their arrows at Ajax. The wolf boy smirked as he looked around and raised his hands.

"You are surrounded, beast," said Frederick. "Surrender and tell us where you have taken the others, and you may live?"

Ajax's smile widened. "Surrounded, hmm? Have you looked around lately?"

There was an unearthly howl that resounded through the wood. The foresters looked up in fear, their hands shaking. Relma felt afraid as well, overwhelmingly so. Except it was somehow separate from her.

It wasn't separate from the others, however. They screamed in horror and fled toward the open ground.

"Telix!" screamed someone. "Telix has come!"

Only Frederick remained where he was. He rushed toward Relma, but Ajax barred his path. Then, with a swipe of his claw, he broke Frederick's spear, and the knight drew his sword.

Even so, it quickly became apparent that Ajax was on the defensive. The halfling knight hacked and slashed. As a result, Ajax was rapidly losing ground. And yet he never stopped smiling, even as he took a wound to the hand.

A presence drew near as Frederick and Ajax fought back and forth. Something which spoke of terror beyond imagination. And Relma realized that Frederick wasn't like her. He felt the same terror the others had. He wasn't separate from it like she was.

He just stayed to fight anyway.

And then, out of the forests, emerged a creature. It was vaguely humanoid. But it was far more wolf than Ajax. Its two eyes were glowing blood red. Frederick staggered back as hundreds of wolves and creatures like Ajax came out of the woods.

He took a stance and waited for the end.

"Leave now, knight," said Telix. "While I still allow it."

Frederick held his ground for a moment. He looked to Relma. There was no reason he should die here. Not for nothing. She shook her head when he tried to make it for her.

Finally, he sheathed his sword. "So be it. I shall return."

"Believe what you will," said Telix. "Begone."

Frederick turned and departed. The wolves made way for him, snarling as he passed. When he was gone, Telix came forward and ruffled Ajax's hair. "Well, son, you managed to get into trouble before the end." "Sorry, Father," said Ajax. "I figured the worst was over once I slipped past Arengeth."

"You were largely right," said Telix. "Still, it was well done of you to learn all this. Your vigil on Pandora has not been wasted. Take the girl, and let us return to the lair immediately."

Vigil on Pandora. Then, someone had been watching them that day. It had been Ajax. Relma started screaming again to spite them.

"Could you silence her somewhat?" asked Telix.

"I gagged her and used all the knockout poison I had; what more do you want?" asked Ajax. "The only reason they heard her was because it wore off. Anya." He glared at a tall, wolf girl with black hair and a slim frame. She was clad in deerskin and had bright red eyes.

The girl met his gaze. "Try completing your task faster, and it won't happen."

"It should not have worn off," said Telix. "I taught you poisons better than that." He looked around. "We should go at once. Pandora is distracted, but we must adjust our strategy if she learns of this before we are prepared."

"As you will, Father," said Anya.

One thing after another.