Above and away from the city of monsters sat the forboding Black Peak. This treetop settlement was home of the Rangers, Hudsonville’s fearsome faction of perimeter guardians and protectors. Their interconnected jungle-gym homes of dark oak shacks and basalt walls were notoriously difficult to traverse, even for the most lithe and nimble of outsiders.

Young Initiates, normally selected at birth to enter their grueling training programs, excitedly gathered outside the base of the tallest treehouse, home to the illustrious and elusive Grandmaster. The encampment had been brimming with energy that morning—whispers spread like wildfire of an unspeakable scandal, one that trickled down from the canopies, from the tight lips of Scoutmasters to the eavesdropping ears of the ever-silent Scouts. Despite their oaths to secrecy and the shadow, it appeared as though the rumor mill did not stop for anyone.

Through the thick glade and across the grand bridge of rope came a pair of piercing emerald eyes, stalking the brush like a lioness on the prowl—Tanya, fresh off the capture of her boyish prey, had been called by the Grandmaster themself, a high honor for such a lowly rank as Scout. Gladly, she took the chance to prove herself during the lackluster performance of another—doubtless enough dedication to the cause will grant her the recognition she so desperately craved. Perhaps they had prepared an execution of the poor, temperamental bastard. Perhaps they would ask her to be the headsman. Her lips curled into a smile at the thought—what an honor it would be.

However, now’s not time for smiles—she locked it away quickly as she approached the Grandmaster’s hut at the top of the tall tree. The gathered Initiates looked excitedly between one another, reaching their hands out to the honored Scout, Tanya humoring the little rascals with a fist bump here and there. Still, she could not linger for long—various roots and vines sagged from the sides of the final wall, beckoning her, one more hurdle to overcome for the honor of seeing the master. As Tanya began her climb, her thoughts poured over with anticipation and excitement. Whatever could this monumental task be?

A deep breath in, a deep breath out, the hardened Elf stood at the ready once she’d reached the top. This was it. She braced herself as she spread open the beads to the tent. An assault of burning incense in her nostrils, Tanya peered through the low-lit room of bowls and candles. In the center sat a tall Fresni—this one was draped in decorative beads and bits of leather, silently meditating as their guest entered the room.

Rarely had the girl ever seen the Grandmaster—a reclusive type, one that prioritized their existence as a shadow, an unseen protector of the people, a shining example of what the Scouts should aspire to be. Ever watchful—ever silent—ever dangerous. It was so beguiling, then, when many would realize what the Grandmaster truly was, just…just a mere, harmless looking Fresni. It might have been absurd, but then again, it would be the last thing one would expect, would it not? And like her Elders always warned…

…Looks can be deceiving.

The girl took a seat on the ground, just across from her Grandmaster, closing her eyes and meditating on the scent which permeated the room. Lavender. A favorite of Tanya’s, as the flower matched her hair. A harmonious feel achieved between the two squatters, the elder began to speak.

Like the rest of their kind, the Grandmaster spoke in a manner of incomprehensible chirps—the only sounds the Fresni were capable of making with their limited anatomy—though the Grandmaster had refined their language enough for their underlings to understand simple orders. Tanya awaited with baited breath, though as the encrypted language processed, the light seemed to drain from her eyes.

It began as routine as she’d expected, Tanya being praised for her successful hunt, her steadfast loyalty to the cause, to the protection of her people, but then…then came the order.

Protection. High-priority.

Elder Davis.

Tanya's heart began to pound. Protection? She was called here for a mere escort? And for who else, but the codebreaker, one she thought deserved death above all. Protection? Protection from what? The little boy he’d spurned? Or perhaps the family he’d supposedly brutalized? The girl scoffed. That boy was no threat, he was meager, weak, pathetic as they come. Even with a rabid dog riling up inside of him, Tanya was certain Andy would do little more to bite. That look of defeat on his face said it all—he was no fighter, merely a follower.

Still, the task at hand—though grossly stigmatized and leaving the girl bitter—seemed honorable enough. What higher honor was there than to protect an Elder? Tch…perhaps one that did not involve Davis altogether. Regardless of how she felt, it was not as though she had much of a choice in the matter. The girl bent her head and got to her feet, the Grandmaster acknowledging her one last time before she made her way toward the barracks. It was a straight shot from the treetop, thanks in part to the wide array of ziplines which began at the master’s hut and sprawled out to the settlement’s various points of interest. Finding her lane, Tanya leapt into the air and sashed her sturdy cloth around the rope slide. Zzzzzwwwip!

Ch-kck! At the bottom now, the girl allowed herself to fly off the handle and into a landing roll. Huff. It looked as though one of the many straw-roofed shacks that lined the boulevard of barracks had some heftier security than usual. Must be the one, she thought as she marched onward.

Hold, a guard brazenly gestured with an outstretched palm—Scoutmaster Atreus, a wide Imp with a trident twice as tall as he. Tanya obeyed, of course, impatiently crossing her arms, whilst her higher-ups discussed the matter. Ka-shink. After their deliberation, the guardsmen pulled their weapons aside, allowing for their elven underling to enter.

The interior was about what one would expect, orderly and uniform, though appearing much more sumptuous than her usual resting place. The beds, lined up down the long hall, were thick and soft, tucked in corduroy blankets and topped in down pillows. What a luxury it must have been, to have the privilege of a comfortable spot to lay your head, or the benefit of being able to lay on one’s side without one’s arms falling asleep. The near-palatial barracks only served to emphasize Tanya’s jealousy of her superiors—hopefully this loathsome task would give her reputation a boost and land her a spot among them.

Nearing the back of the building, a large, pale man sat in wait, just outside of the Elders’ quarters—the Butcher. His knuckles, freshly bruised and bloody, dripped onto the planks underneath, the wall behind him having been splintered, indented with the shape of a fist. His throbbing temples seemed redder than normal, and his thick legs were bouncing up and down with anxious intent. His golden eyes peered up.

“Good. You’re here.” He grunted as he got to his feet. “We need to go.”

Barking orders already, old man? Tanya sneered as she grabbed one of his duffel bags and slung it over her shoulder. The man followed suit with another, following his youthful bodyguard out the door.

…

The narrow trail to the secluded cabin was a long one—a treacherous one—not one which would afford silence between many, but one which had it abound for these two. Tanya, of course, silenced by her binding code, and Davis, the reviled Butcher, understandably had a hard time finding the proper words to say. Still, as he continued to eye the girl’s sour face he grew more and more weary, discontent with the sounds of the woods, the rustling of nearby creatures—though he knew a man, in his position, hardly had a soul that would listen. The silence was deafening. Davis began to speak.

“You must hate me.”

Tanya continued forward without regard. What did she care of this insecure old man? She wasn’t about to be his therapist.

“You think so lowly of your Elder?”

The girl briefly turned, lips pursed, forming into a bitter smirk of pure contempt. Davis only scowled further as his knees began to hike, the path growing steep.

“It’s not…true, what they’re saying about me. I am no codebreaker.”

Tanya raised a pejorative brow, Davis halting quite suddenly in his haste. Annoyed, his intense eyes locked with the girl’s.

“You’re the one who captured the boy, yeah?”

Tanya nods.

“And what was he to you, but a spineless coward, unwilling to fight?”

On cue, the girl let out an amused puff of air—Davis shook his head disapprovingly.

“Aye, but it’s not his fault, now is it? He just takes after his father.”

To the top of the incline they got, Davis placing his hands on his hips. The two looked over the horizon for but a pause. There was an eerie stillness about the man, and to the woods, as he tried to find words he hadn’t known how to say—perhaps they were words best left unspoken. Sigh.

“I simply extracted a toll I was owed.”

Though given with earnest from the girl’s traveling companion, she could not care less about the ramblings of the codebreaker. Tanya already wanted this journey to be over with, if not before, then definitely now that she was being lectured on the guilty’s crimes—or rather, whined to about them. Davis must have noticed her continued scorn—she hadn’t made an attempt to hide it—as his own bitter laughter began to ring out. Tch. So bold to assume she wanted anything to do with this. It was just more busy work. Just another Tuesday.

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Chtchtchtck—the sound of a mechanism loading nearby suddenly shook the brush to life, the two wanderers going into high alert. Ears perked, nostrils flaring, they scanned their peripherals. The sagging timbers, the weathered stones, the shining armor and the shrill sound of a crossbow’s bolt whizzing right by their ears—!

Shunt! One of the bolts fired nailed Davis in the shoulder—another, just narrowly avoiding their heads as Davis forced Tanya to the ground. Their shots fired, the surrounding knights now drew their blades, rushing toward their stuck foe.

“Keep low,” Davis hissed. The both of them crawled in opposite directions into the thicker brush, daggers drawn in hand. How many? How many had they seen? Two—no, three—it had to have been three. Not much time to dwell on it, the knights drew closer. One armored foot stepped, quite suddenly besides Tanya’s side, crushing the deep reeds which barely obscured her—she hoped to the Mother that the knight couldn’t see her crawling so close. Steady, now, this could be your chance. The girl lay deathly still in the deep of the weeds, holding her breath, waiting for the knight to pass by. Crsshh, crsshh, their steps continued onward, toward their target. The girl was safe for the time being—safe enough to make a daring move. Tanya’s dagger shook in her hand, blood and adrenaline pumping fast. She stalked quietly behind the passing knight, a lioness, eyes locked on her prey. She waited for the soldier to scan, back and forth, and as soon as he’d turned his head the other way…

SHNK–!

The first of the knights went down with a violent thud as he gasped for the air which could no longer fill his ruptured lungs. The others turned, brandishing their weapons, crying out for their falling brother—one, wielding a spear, rushed the girl down with a series of deadly jabs—as a last-ditch effort of defense, Tanya had summoned a hearth of roots from the earth, borrowing from the strength of the surrounding woods. It worked, barely, the spear spiking through the weaker bramble with ease and grazing the girl all over. She gasped with pain as she continued to crawl away, toward the safety of the deeper brush—cut off by the sounds of screaming nearby and the twisting of metal—just before she could get to safety, one knight collided with another nearby, the two tumbling into her path. That…would be three. Steady. Her breath steadied, slowly, as she got slowly to her feet. Peeking just over the horizon of the deep weeds, she looked for the all-clear from Davis—instead, she got an intimate look at the greataxe rising far above her head. The knight, having caught the girl by surprise, narrowed his eyes and swung his weapon down. Tanya braced her arms, hoping, praying in these mere milliseconds that the steel of her knife could withstand the force of the weighty blade.

KRRAAAAKKKK!!!

As soon as she’d opened her eyes again, a burly set of knuckles had crushed the knight’s helmet with a nasty hook, his axe jerking just to the side enough to give Tanya an impromptu ear piercing. THUNK, went the weapon, embedding itself in the ground just by Tanya’s feet, her eyes frozen like a deer caught in the headlights. Davis, huffing and puffing for air, offered the girl a calloused hand up, one she gladly accepted after nearly being turned into an Elf-kebab.

“Are you okay?”

Hrmph. The girl nodded, just a tad shaken, trying still to play it tough. Davis scoffed, collected a few helmets and walked on ahead. Right, best keep moving along, though—Tanya eyed one of the unconscious bodies, back folded like a lawn chair by Davis’s brute strength.

Just sticking out of one of their coin purses, Tanya found a small, wrapped sheet of paper—orders, by the looks of it, orders to find and kill the ‘White Wolf’—Elder Davis, no doubt—according to their maps, they’d already pinpointed his ‘usual hunting grounds.’ It was only a matter of time before they managed to track this back to the city.

Tanya, looking up toward her exiting superior, considered briefly whether or not she should inform him. Perhaps, in some sense, he was already well aware of the conspiracy to skin his hide—perhaps that was why she was hired to begin with. So this was it, then? A true test of her skills, a deadly game of cat and mouse with the Natural Order? Suppose it was only fitting—what kind of Scoutmaster would she be, if not one familiar with such deadly encounters? Along with the adrenaline came a few smiles from the girl, but just as soon as they cracked would they diffuse altogether. She’d almost been skewered back there. Was she really ready for this? Hells, it seemed as though Davis had himself covered, taking three down with such ease, whereas she…she just froze. What was even the point of being here?

The two soon encroached upon Davis’s land—his own sentinel treehouse visible just past the coming clearing. Just inside, it appeared as though someone had left his lantern on while he’d been out, the windowsill glowing with a faint yellow. It was a wonder how the knights hadn’t found it yet. Still, not too bad of a place, Tanya thought, it was quite clear that she would be staying here for the coming days, while an Initiate gets practice watching over her own range—how long this arrangement was going to last was still up in the air. Thankfully, at least the strenuous journey up the mountain was finally at an end, and at the very least the two of them could get some grub as consolation for putting up with each other.

Climbing to the top, the two approached the doorway before Davis held up a hand in pause. He firmly placed the helmets he’d collected upon various wooden pikes set up along the deck, then turned, eyes sheepishly shifting between the girl and the floor.

“I uh…think you ought to know before going in—the real reason you’ve been brought on.”

It was definitely one of the answers she was looking for—Tanya raised a brow.

“You see, I got a kid.”

Oh. That complicated things quite a bit—as far as Tanya knew, having children, as an Elder of the Rangers, was utterly taboo, if not outright forbidden. Though cynicism was not their intention, romance, love, familial bond, it was a complication for the warrior society.

Often times, siblings enlisted in the Ranger society were kept separated from one another, trained under different factions, placed in watch over wildly different regions—Tanya herself hadn’t known her family all that well. Perhaps a cousin or an uncle who lived in the city, but nobody she has ever gotten a real attachment to. For an Elder to have a child, it was…reckless, bizarre, to say the least. The weakness that could stem from that, the advantages and the threats the enemy could hold over their heads, no, it was downright foolish. Why would someone in his position take such a stupid risk? Tanya’s blood began to boil once more. The girl crossed her broad arms, biting down on her lower lip.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, but we got word from the outside that the Order has placed a hit on me—they know the area I’m in and exactly how to take me down. Can’t bunk down with the encampment, that could put the whole city at risk if they track me there, and if word got to the city that I’ve been secretly harboring a child…you know how that would go. We’ll have to hold our ground out here and try to lead them away. I need you to understand, though, first and foremost, you aren’t here for me; you’re here to protect my little girl.”

Tanya had heard enough. She wasn’t a babysitter, for crying in the night, she was a Ranger, and Rangers didn’t sit around, twiddling their thumbs, watching the children of their superiors, they were meant to be protectors, sentinels, guardians for the peaceful folk of the valley.

For a moment, the girl considered leaving right then, and reporting this to the Grandmaster at once—that consideration was crushed, however, by the heavy realization of just who had authorized this mission to begin with.

Cracking the front door open and greeting the two with a warm smile was Hudson, leaning on the doorframe with a warm mug of coffee tightly gripped in his hands.

“Glad you could make it,” he cooed. “Ms. O’Mally, a word?”

Davis nodded to Hudson and entered his home, closing the door behind himself while Hudson scooted out of the way. Seeing the disparaged look on his underling’s face, Hudson gestured for Tanya to come and rest with him on the porchside, pulling his pipe out from his coat pocket. Snap, snap, he snapped his fingers a couple times until a small flame lit at his fingertip, one he used to ignite the small bowl of sweet-smelling tobacco. Tanya joined him, reluctantly, staying a good few feet away from the toxic fumes coming out of Hudson’s mouth.

“I imagine you’ve got some questions.” He muttered. Tanya rolled her eyes—as if she could ask them if she wanted. Regardless, through some intuition of his own, Hudson determined that the girl was dissatisfied with her current position, and did his best to reconcile her for the trouble of it all.

“There’s a lot to this story I’m sure you and them other folks don’t know. Heck, I don’t blame you none, Davis’s a pretty shy fella. Prolly why he’s adamant the girl stays here, he don’t trust too many other folks. Not even me.”

Fffffffffhhh…Hudson took a deep inhale of the smoke and let it all out in a large, flowing cloud around his head.

“Fact of the matter is, this is your duty, Ms. O’Mally, down to them lil’ devils in the details. Protect and serve the people, even if the people ain’t as agreeable as you’d like them to be.”

But this wasn’t about someone not being agreeable, this was something else entirely—this was a gross violation of every code in the book. How could she so casually turn a blind eye, how could she not say anything? Well, the binding hex on her voice, for one—on the other hand, the threat of exile or execution, should she show disobedience. Suppose that was why the rules were the way they were, to keep everyone uniform, to keep everyone organized, and to shut them all up. So why did Davis get to bend these rules? The code should be absolute, so that no Elder nor Grandmaster should abuse their position, so that the sanctity and trust between their ranks would not fall apart.

Even the strongest of men could fall prey to love’s intoxicating shroud, blinding them to their goals, their duties, Tanya could see that in the way Davis jeopardized everything, even some in how Hudson had been giving him special treatment. It was an affliction, a disease of softness that would lead the Rangers away from their path of salvation, toward a road paved in ruin. Love made men into villains—perhaps it was love that spurned the attack on the Kessler family, the whole reason they were in this mess to begin with.

“Ms. O’Mally?” Hudson tuned her back in. “You understand your position here, yes?”

Turning away, looking out over the treeline, the girl sneered, her neck stiff, her piercing emeralds squinted and alert. Hudson sighed.

“...Maybe it’d be better if you met this girl. She’s inside, whenever you’re ready.”

Tanya pushed off the railing, giving Hudson a serious stink eye, though she did face the home now and, in turn, the front door. Harumph. The girl impatiently shoved the door open and stepped inside.

The interior of the home was much like her own, a mixture of rustic wood architecture and the gnarled integration of the tree the house had been based upon. A hard-knotted rug spread from the entryway into the living quarters, leading the eyes to a humble gathering of rattan chairs as well as a large leather recliner as the centerpiece. Davis filled this seat with the entirety of his muscular body.

Tanya could hear some faint shuffling in the other room, and the creaking of floorboards as a little blue blanket dragged across the ground, dangling from the small hand of a small girl—Elena. The realization made Tanya’s heart skip a beat—this child, bizarre, meek, soft, she was unlike anything the Elf had seen before. She had pudgy, filed fingertips and smooth, unblemished skin. Her ears, peaking out beneath her fuzzy head of hair, were round and C-shaped. She had no wings, no extra eyes, no beak nor tail nor anything of the sort. This was no ordinary girl at all, this was…

This girl, Elena, was a human.