“Mommy!” Liara said, running around the wood cabin she lived in with the Elf named Kellen. Since she had turned five, her mother had stayed with them less and less, only coming to visit a few times a year. Liara would turn eleven in a month and had hoped her mother would come see her before then; her mom rarely missed her birthday.
“Liara!” the beautiful redheaded woman said, placing her travel pack against the wall so that she could lift her daughter into the air. “You are growing so much!” A series of tears rolled down her mother’s cheeks.
“Kellen has been teaching me how to use a bow!” Liara said, pointing towards a small bow that was visible through the window of the little cabin.
“Is he now?” Her blue eyes twinkled. “What will my daughter become?!” she said in mock distress.
“A great hunter someday, would be my guess,” Kellen said, coming out of the nearby woods. His tall, lithe frame was built perfectly for this environment. “Though we probably won’t have a lot of time above ground for a while if what I hear is true?”
“Word has already reached this far?” Her mother sighed and hugged her even more tightly.
“It has.”
Kellen’s hand twitched like he wanted to reach out to his guest, but he resisted the urge. Liara had only begun to notice the tension in the man whenever her mother was around within the last two years. She figured it had probably always been there, but she had just been too young to understand it for what it was. Kellen loved her mom, but he also knew that she didn’t return the feelings. Liara wanted to give him a hug and let him know that she was there for him, but something inside told her to wait.
“You need to travel further north and meet up with the High Elves. Your chances of surviving what is to come will be much higher with them.” Her mother put her down and turned towards the man who had raised her. “I know you don’t want to, Kellen, but it would be the best place for Liara and her children.”
Kellen looked away from her mother and sighed. “I know, I just have never agreed with the hatred that they spew, Tyrdra. Why can’t she go to South Harbor with her father?”
Her mother tensed at that, but as she turned to look Liara in the eyes she seemed surprised that her daughter hadn’t reacted to the news. “She knows?”
“I’ve known for a few years now,” Liara said, waving the whole thing away. She had been mad and had asked a million questions when she had first learned that her father was not only alive but a high-ranking member of the Protectorate, but her time spent with Kellen had lessened her need to go off and find her real father. “I don’t want to go where my father is, I want to stay with Kellen.”
Kellen looked taken aback by the statement, but a moment later a hint of a smile touched his features.
“Well, you heard her. One thing I’ve learned over the years is you don’t argue with a daughter from my line.” Her mother turned back to Kellen and put her hands on his shoulders. “Kellen Daystar, I know I have already asked much of you, but I’m reaffirming my trust in you today. Would you take my daughter north with you?”
“I will,” Kellen said. He seemed to be having trouble figuring out where to look, as anywhere his eyes landed seemed to make him even more uncomfortable. “If they find out she is not an Elf there will be trouble, though.”
“You have taught her well, and I have done everything I can to make her look as Elven as possible; it shouldn’t be too much of an issue. At the very least, you can say she is a Wild Elf and though they will treat her with disdain, they will still accept her.” Liara’s mother turned around and knelt in front of her. “I am not sure when we will see each other again, so let’s make the most of the time we have now.”
“You aren’t going with us?” Liara said, as the world began to blur.
“I cannot, the world is in danger and there are things that need to be done to prevent total catastrophe. Remember everything that Kellen has taught you, and don’t let anyone know that you are not an Elf. Those people will kill you, especially if they find out after you have married and had children.”
“Alright.” Liara wiped her eyes. “Will you at least teach me some magic before you go?”
“We’ll see if you are able, but those of us who can use it do not call it magic.” Her mother stood and opened the door to the little cabin. “Let’s get some food, and then we’ll see where we are at. I’ll be with you until your birthday and then I’ll need to leave, so we have some time.”
Liara grabbed one of the straps on her mother’s travel bag and tried to lift it, but only managed to make it an inch off the ground. Kellen grabbed the other strap and helped her bring the bag inside. She only had a few Eightdays with her mother and she would make them count, then she would go on an adventure with Kellen. She decided there were worse ways for a young girl’s life to turn out.
Year: 3045 AGD
Month: Midwinter
First Seventhday
Death’s Edge Forest
He awoke to the sounds of excited yipping outside of their temporary shelter. It took him a moment to remember who he was and where he was, as happened when the dreams were especially potent. That was the first time he had ever been a young girl in his dream, however, and the experience had been interesting.
He had been in the memories of men and women before, so he knew that they tended to think in different ways, but having the memories of someone near his age allowed him to understand the difference on a much more personal level. The girl's mind had worked in a much different way than his. Things that would seem trivial to him were extremely important to her, and she had interacted with the world in a much different way on an emotional level.
The entire process was interesting to him, and he hoped that he would deal with memories of more boys and girls in the future so that he could more easily gauge if those differences were inherent or not. At that moment, more excited yipping occurred outside, drawing his mind away from his musings. He crawled towards the opening in the bower and saw what his friend was so excited about.
Dauntless stood over Troublefinder and swatted at the young Quaelyne with his paw. Troublefinder dodged each attack, as the blows were slow and easily anticipated, but the furry little guy seemed to be having a lot of fun anyway.
This was the first time that he had ever seen Troublefinder’s father in full, and he would be lying if he said the Quaelyne wasn’t intimidating; on all four legs, Dauntless was still easily a head taller than the boy, and probably twice that if he were to stand on his hind legs. Everything about the large Quaelyne screamed power and speed. The silver streaks in his hair gleamed in the morning light, making the black stand out all the more.
Good morning, nameless, we should be setting out soon.
Dauntless gave no visible sign that he had seen the boy, but the thought had been clearly directed at him. Troublefinder seemed to hear something of it, and he stopped mid-dodge and looked around, earning a gentle swat from the giant paw. Seeing his friend up and about, Troublefinder ran over and greeted him as well.
“’Morning, Troublefinder. Good morning, Dauntless.”
“Is it time to go?” Pershanti crawled out of the space and looked around. “Quite the snow storm last night. It should be a good year for crops in the lowlands.”
Looking around, the boy noticed that there was indeed a fresh coating of snow on everything. They had come into the forest late last night while the storm was just ramping up, so they hadn’t been able to enjoy their new environment. Looking around, he found the area both majestic and uncomfortable. He stood still for a moment as he tried to figure out why before a thought struck him.
Not enough line of sight, and too many places for an ambush. The thought surprised him, looking around though he realized that was exactly why he felt uncomfortable. Dauntless exhaled abruptly, and if he didn’t know any better he might think the Quaelyne was laughing as the big furry shoulders rose and fell.
“What’s wrong with him?” Pershanti stepped up beside Troublefinder and the boy as the watched the big Quaelyne fall on his side.
Having a feeling that Dauntless had found something funny about his thoughts, the boy said. “Not sure, it just seemed to come upon him suddenly.”
Stop… Dauntless said let out as he released another large exhale.
“Did something sting him?” Pershanti asked, clearly afraid for their guide’s health.
Sure now that Dauntless was laughing at him, the boy sighed. “I’m sure he’ll get over it. Which way are we going, Dauntless?”
A large paw appeared on the other side of the furry mound pointing southeast. Troublefinder sniffed at his dad for a moment as they passed before hopping along after the boy.
Dauntless caught up to them early on, and they traveled through the forest throughout the day. The boy had seen a lot of creatures out of the corner of his eye as they moved along. As soon as he turned his attention in the direction of the shape or movement, all he would see would be bare leaves or branches swaying gently back and forth.
Around midday, Dauntless led them to a cool spring and found several bushes full of berries for them to eat. Pershanti pointed out that one of the berries wasn’t something that either of them should eat, the Quaelyne could digest them fine, but it would give them stomach cramps at the very least. The rest of the day they spent sharing information about the area, Pershanti talking about the information he had learned from books and Dauntless giving them practical advice that he had learned growing up in the area.
There were still a few hours of sunlight left when they made it to the Quaelyne village. The difference was palpable from the rest of the forest as soon as they neared. Very few other creatures were willing to encroach on the Quaelyne’s territory. Not only was the density of living creatures different, but there were clear lanes through the underbrush, along with several areas where there were no plants at all.
Even with all of our strengths, it is sometimes nice to have a clear view of what is coming. Dauntless sent them, a bit of humor bleeding through.
They were led to a large burrow near a massive tree whose nearest branch was well over twenty feet above them. The hole was a gentle incline that opened up into a room with three tunnels that branched off from it. Dauntless led them down the right tunnel, which opened into another smaller room that had two more tunnels. From here, they went left and ended up in a large round room that had been dug out so that the outer edge was higher than the inner. A slight incline brought the top level down into the small inner circle, where he guessed they would sleep.
Looks like your mother isn’t home.
Troublefinder sniffed around before lying down in the middle of the room.
“I think he’s got the best idea,” Pershanti said. “Unless you have something you would like us to do?”
No, all is well. Sit, rest.
The burrow was much warmer than the boy had expected. As he sat down near Troublefinder, his hand fell flat against the floor and he could feel a slight tremble coming from far below. He reached out with his mind and felt his consciousness spread out below him. Not far below where he sat was a thin layer of rock that was porous, and those holes were filled with hot water that was constantly moving around underneath them. The water felt different to him than the water he usually drank, but he couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it. How long he sat there delving into those underground crevices he wasn’t sure, but when he came back into his own senses he noticed that everyone was staring at him.
How is it that you do that? The voice that intruded on his thoughts was not that of Dauntless, but a stronger, more feminine voice.
“I’m not sure. I have only been able to do it for a little while now. Though I think I have been doing it while I sleep for a while longer than that.”
It seems to be much like our own ability to communicate, but on a much deeper scale, Dauntless sent.
“You seemed so peaceful just a moment ago,” Pershanti said. “What were you doing?”
“I was…” He stared at his hands trying to figure out how to describe what he had been doing.
He was delving his mind into the ground. It was rather impressive to watch. He was even able to tell that the water that runs beneath us is not clean. From around the corner came an impressive figure. Half again the size of Dauntless, Troublefinder's mother had a white coat that was zig-zagged with silver streaks.
The boy stood and bowed his head respectfully. “Hello, I am sorry to invade your home.”
“Likewise,” Pershanti said with a bow of his own.
Nonsense, you have saved the life of my kit, you are not intruding. I hope that you can find a name in your time with us. I am… Images flashed through his mind. Her staring down a spider three times her size, because the thing had been stealing kits from the village. Slightly larger, she charged into the side of a Twilight Wolf whose pack surrounded the annoying little male that wouldn’t stop following her. Fully grown, she faced down two female Quaelyne after challenging the council for the right to lead her own tribe. ...Relentless.
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“Thank you,” the boy replied.
Tonight, you shall meet the other members of the tribe, and tomorrow we shall begin to repay you for all that you have done, and will do. Relentless’s statement had the ring of prophecy to it that sent a shiver down the boy’s spine.
First Eighthday
Siniquity
“Ah, Temendri, I was just beginning to wonder if you were ever going to come back,” Yandarian said looking up from one of the dozens of reports that were arrayed across his desk. “What do you have to report?”
“It’s the beautiful weather we’ve been having; snow up to your knees makes traveling interesting. Things were alright closer to the Blade’s Edge, but as we came closer to Siniquity we were accosted by constant blizzards.” Temendri took off his cloak and hung it on the wall. The sections of the manor that were still in disrepair had been sealed off from the rest to allow proper heating.
“Yes, this weather has made me lose a dozen slaves to frostbite over the last few Eightdays. We really need to find stronger slaves.”
Temendri didn’t bother to point out that even the strongest slaves would have an issue working outside during a blizzard. He had been working with Yandarian long enough to know that the man had little respect for the lives of those beneath him. If Yandarian wanted his manor to be rebuilt before spring, he would spend as many lives as needed to make that possible. Doing any less than that would be seen as a weakness to the majority of the council and their master. Temendri couldn’t fault his mentor for not wanting to look weak, but he thought there were ways that the old Blood Mage could go about it that wouldn’t cost him the lives of his workers.
“On our way to deliver the new batch of slaves to the mine, we met up with a party of the Dracairei we sent out, and they gave us two Blood Orcs they had captured. I added them to the workers along with a strange looking Goblin we happened upon.” Temendri walked towards the desk, making sure to stay far enough back that Yandarian couldn’t presume that he was trying to get a look at the papers arrayed in front of him.
“Orcs? Good, good, perhaps we will have the guards bring them here when the next shift occurs.” The next sentence was said with as much nonchalance as the first, but Temendri caught the slight twitch of Yandarian’s eye that told him that the man was interested in the answer. “And what of this strange Goblin? How was it strange?”
“Shorter than the rest, but wider. He looked like he had more on his mind than his next meal.”
“Interesting,” Yandarian said, his eye twitching even more.
Temendri was certain that he had just told his mentor something that he didn’t want to hear, but whatever it was it seemed he wasn’t going to be privy to the reason why.
“And what of the boy?” Yandarian said, placing the report he had been pretending to read on the desk in front of him and sitting back in his chair.
“The block is still firmly in place, and he seems to not know who he is. That cur Walkins said he even taunted the boy a little with no discernable reaction. The story from the guards and the two Goblins that survived is that the boy and the Goblins were slower than the rest to try to run and that ended up saving their lives. The rock fall severed the chain and allowed them to find the rations that one of the guards had left behind, keeping the trio in relatively good condition through their ordeal.”
“What is your take on that story?”
“I think it is mostly true, though the Goblins seemed to be treating the boy with a certain reverence. Perhaps he felt something and told them to stop, saving their lives, or more likely he was able to break the chain himself using a tiny portion of his latent abilities.”
“Why do you say that is more likely?” Yandarian said, steepling his hands in front of him.
“I had the guards show me the chain, and it looked as if it had been cut by something extremely sharp or separated on a molecular level.” Temendri shuddered at the thought of the kind of power and precision that would take.
“Interesting.” Yandarian grinned. “So the boy is still able to use some of his power even through the inhibitors, and with no knowledge of Shaping?”
“So it seems,” Temendri replied, seeing no reason for the smile. He thought the boy should be put down immediately. Anything with that kind of power was too dangerous to control.
“I’m to guess that Walkins met up with the Trolls without issue?”
“Yes. The Troll-kin don’t trust him, but I made it apparent that he was in charge and that his orders were to be followed as long as they didn’t interfere directly with the mission. They are preparing their assault, which should occur on the first Eighthday of the Time of Storms.”
“Time of Storms.” Yandarian said the words as if they left a bad taste in his mouth. “I do so hate the colloquial manner in which the people of this world went about naming things. I understand their urge to simplify everything and forget about the past, but they took it to a bit of an extreme.”
Not knowing how to respond to such a statement, Temendri simply nodded in agreement.
“Oh right, you are not yet privy to that information. Perhaps soon,” Yandarian said with a wicked glint in his eye.
“Yes,” Temendri said, trying to suppress his excitement. He had heard tidbits of strange information all throughout his training, and it all led to some interesting conclusions, but he would wait until he had more information before he decided which was less outlandish than the rest. “Have you heard from our Princess snatcher?”
“Yes,” Yandarian said, letting the silence play out between them and once again reaffirming the fact that he was the one in charge in this relationship—as if Temendri hadn’t been completely aware of that fact for every minute of every day since the time he was old enough to walk. “I’m told he met up with our ship in Freeport and should meet up with our team in Verge in the next few Eightdays.”
Temendri was pleased that everything seemed to be going according to plan, but he could tell that there was something else his mentor had to say. Instead of asking, he simply sat there with a curious expression on his face, knowing the man would tell him when he got around to it.
“It seems the High Commander himself has been trailing our agent, and we have lost more than a few assets in Freeport.” Yandarian was still smiling, so there must be something else of interest he had to share. After a few moments of silence the old man said. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me why I’m not throwing things, even though several years’ worth of effort and thousands of golds have been blown away with the tide?”
“I had been wondering…” Temendri said, trying not to roll his eyes.
“It’s because not only were most of the assets lost easily replaceable in a rat’s den like Freeport, but also because the man who reported to me told me the High Commander was on a ship less than a day behind our agent.” The wicked glint returned to Yandarian’s eyes. “He’ll be a day or two behind our agent when he gets to Verge. Two of the Dracairei there will travel with the agent and the Princess, and the other six will wait to remove the exalted High Commander’s head.”
“Six?” Temendri said. “I thought we sent a dozen?” He regretted the question the moment it left his lips.
Yandarian’s eye began to twitch and his smile slipped slightly. “Yes, well, there were complications.” He threw a piece of paper in Temendri’s direction. Temendri picked it up and began to read the missive quietly.
Engaged then unknown unit outside forest edge of Verge.
One combatant dead, three captured, two evaded capture.
Four Dracairei killed in initial engagement.
Unit identified as Vigilantes.
Four members of unit whereabouts unknown.
Enemy killed in action:
Corporal Jameson; Human, Male
Enemies captured:
Sergeant Mcdowell; Dwarf, Male
Removed from combat by multiple puncture wounds.
Elandria Nightwind; Elf, Female
No longer a threat, right arm amputated during combat.
Rundig Stormhammer; Dwarf, Male
Removed from combat by dozens of puncture wounds.
Has not yet succumbed to poison, recommend study if survives.
Enemies identified but not captured:
Warren (Surname unknown); Human, Male
Trenton Grimbash; Half-Ogre, Male
Both targets fled into forest, current whereabouts unknown.
Half-Ogre hit by several bolts, likely non-combat operational.
Squad members not present at engagement:
Za’kereth and Za’erath; Grey Elven twins, Male
Former members of the Nightshade clan.
Bredwin Stoutheart; Dwarf, Male
Drake Dearborn; Human, Male
“I see,” Temendri said, raising his eyebrow. “So there are six potential allies for the High Commander in the engagement zone, five if the Half-Ogre is indeed out of the fight?”
“Unlikely,” Yandarian said. “Bredwin and Drake have not been seen with the unit for some time, and are believed killed in action, or cycled out.”
“Oh good, then they only need to worry about three or four members of an elite squad of Protectorate Knights,” Temendri said, knocking the smile completely off his mentor’s face.
Yandarian looked towards the top left drawer of his desk, where Temendri knew the old bastard kept a vial of his blood, but the old Mage seemed to calm down a moment before he reached for the drawer.
“Yes, there are potentially three combatants left in the zone of engagement. If they attempt to rescue the prisoners, they will most likely die or be captured in the process. If for some reason they wait until the High Commander arrives to assist, they will still be outnumbered and at the very least lose a few more members, and the High Commander will be delayed or killed in action. Either way, it is a win-win for us.” Yandarian tried to assume a relaxed position once again but failed miserably. “We may lose most of our current Dracairei, but when the Princess arrives, it will have all been worth it.”
Temendri knew the old man was trying to convince himself that everything would work out just as much as he was trying to convince his apprentice. If they failed, they would have to report it to their master, and if for some reason they lost the Princess and twelve Dracairei at the same time, they would lose the good favor they currently enjoyed. That was not something either of them wanted to think about.
First Eighthday
Serenity Valley
The Proper Peacock
Shawnrik had never been so uncomfortable in his life. He was surrounded by a half dozen people, all of whom seemed to have their jobs focused around poking him with one sharp object or another. Olivia had made it clear on Sixthday that if he didn’t go with her to the tailor on their free day that he would be going to the Winter Dance by himself. She sat not far away with a knowing grin on her face.
The owner, a man named Isaac, stood just out of reach, guiding each of his employees in their tasks. The whole thing wouldn’t be all that bad had they not expected him to stand there in nothing but his underwear. He still couldn’t look Olivia’s direction without blushing, though she seemed to have no problem at all staring at him as he was poked, prodded, and measured by people he had never met before.
“My, you are quite the specimen,” Isaac said, eyeing Shawnrik up and down. “Tell me, have you been growing fast of late? I know boys your age tend to shoot up dramatically every now and then."
You have no idea, Shawnrik thought before replying. “Only a couple inches in the last year or so.” He hoped that his next growth spurt would have the common courtesy of waiting until after the dance, at the very least. The Dean had come and talked to him the day before and told him he didn’t think it was likely to occur until fall at the earliest, and Shawnrik hoped with everything he had that the man was right.
“I’m fairly certain he has put on some muscle in the last few Eightdays, though,” Olivia said.
Looking over towards his date for the dance, he almost took a step back at the predatory gaze which was being directed at him. He had involuntarily twitched, which caused two of his tormentors to puncture his skin with their torture devices.
“I see. Well, we’ll have to allow for some space and do our final stitching the week of the dance, then,” Isaac said as he shooed his staff away.
Shawnrik let out a sigh of relief that made the tailor grin from ear to ear.
“Perfection is painful, my young friend, as I am sure you are well aware. One does not have a body such as this without your own share of blood, sweat, and tears. We will have everything ready for you next time you come in. You will be magnificent.” He turned towards Olivia and cocked his head. “On the other hand, my dear, you could stand to follow your date’s stance on physical fitness.”
Olivia finally blushed, but instead of making Shawnrik feel vindicated, it simply made him angry.
“Hey,” Shawnrik said, stepping towards the man. “She is beautiful.”
“Yes, well, the eye of the beholder and all that.” Isaac said, stepping backwards several paces. He raised his hands in a calming gesture as he continued. “She is indeed a beautiful young woman by herself, but when I am through with you she is going to look like a farm hand hanging on the arm of a god. We will of course do everything we can to close that gap, but anything she can do in the meantime will only help our cause.”
Shawnrik took another step towards the man, fully intending on knocking him through his own front window, but he felt a small hand touch his arm and he paused.
“Shawnrik.” Olivia said, drawing his attention away from the Tailor. “Isaac is the best at what he does, and he is not personally attacking me—he's just confident in his work,” she said, throwing a quick look at the tailor.
“But…”
“No buts.” She tugged on his arm so that he would bend down and placed her hand on his face. “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” She put her finger over his lips as he was about to reply. “I mean, really looked at yourself, especially with someone standing next to you.”
He followed her as she tugged on his arm and led him to a mirror that took up a good portion of the wall in the back of the shop. She made sure to hold eye contact with him all the way. When they stopped she turned her head towards the reflection and his gaze followed.
Olivia wasn’t terribly short for her age, but the top of her head was level with the center of his chest. She was beautiful. Her body was not too athletic, nor too out of shape; perfectly healthy. Chestnut hair framed a cute, round face that held the softest brown eyes that Shawnrik had ever seen.
Standing next to her was a monstrosity, something that shouldn’t exist in the real world. His wide frame looked perfectly sculpted. Each muscle clearly defined beneath his skin. Twin yellow orbs stared back at him, each glowing brightly in the lights of the shop. His short, cropped hair had an almost blue sheen to it, framing a face that was well defined; it was the kind of face he saw on the statues of ancient heroes around Safeharbor.
He began to turn his head away, his mind wanting to reject what he saw, but as he began to turn his head his eyes locked with the reflection of those beautiful brown eyes. What he saw in that gaze did not reflect what he had seen in the slightest. Those eyes didn’t seem to be repulsed at all by what they saw. Shawnrik saw Isaac in the background, and the look he saw in the Tailor’s eyes was reverent, if anything.
Turning back to the image, he tried to take the whole thing in as one image, trying to figure out what the others saw that he didn’t. He stood there next to the girl he was developing deep feelings for, in his underwear, looking at himself. As he stared at the image, he realized that the features that he loathed because they were so different than everyone else were what made him unique. Even next to someone as intimidating as his grandfather, the blacksmith for the giants in Tranquility Mist, he would stand out.
“Look at you,” Olivia said, a tear dripping from her chin.
“Alright,” Shawnrik said. “Now I’ve seen what you see when you look at me. See what I see when I look at you.” He took her image in, trying to will his feelings through the glass.
After several seconds, her eyes widened, and fresh tears began to flow. He heard a loud noise from behind and realized that Isaac was blowing his nose on a handkerchief.
“I am sorry!” Isaac said, moving up behind them. “I see now what you see. You will both be the envy of the Institute. I will stake my reputation on it!”