The Legionaries didn't concern me.

They encircled us now, moving into their designated positions with the skill and smoothness of a team who were used to working together. I could almost hear the sharpness of their steel as the wind blew against the cold metal, the shafts of their spears tucked underarm and unwavering.

They were all experienced. I imagine they would have to be to work on a Senatorial detail. Still, it would make little difference. If I decided to fight then it would be over and the reason for this was a simple one.

My Smiths were within reach.

After we'd come to a stop at Annabelle's urging, I had called out to Elora over the Bond. I'd watched her for the majority of our journey through the city, all but biting my nails in anxious frustration as she trotted next to the Senator of Yelmora. I could do nothing because the First Knight had asked it of me. Vera told me to be patient and so I had been, but that did little to alleviate my nerves.

On the long walk through the densely populated outer city, all manner of terrible scenarios ran through my mind, each worse than the last. From a reappearance of Zelato to a smiling Samuel, my imagination seemed to grow more rampant by the moment. Shit, at one point I had even thought that Craven was going to pop out of one of the many fragrant fields.

Thank the Spirit for Tessa. On the walk, she'd constantly fed calming thoughts over the Bond to stop me from doing something I would regret. I felt no connection to the people of Yelmora, but I really didn't like the idea of pulling innocent folk into a fight that I started. Better to wait for the opportune moment.

Thankfully, that moment arrived sooner than I expected.

Even with Tess' help, by the time we passed through the great gilded gates into the August estate, I was beginning to feel like a rabbit caught in a trap. I meant what I said: Calliston and August seemed like good men. But they couldn't have known when we would arrive. It was only thanks to Boldrin that we made such good time on the road and we hadn't joined up with him until Arn. Something was off and I didn't like it. Vera and Annabelle were willing to give the Senator the benefit of the doubt, but they were letting their familiarity with the man and his family cloud their judgement. I would be the first to bow in apology should I be wrong, but I would be damned if I placed Elora and Tessa' lives into the hands of a man I'd known for only an hour.

My gaze moved to Lencel. He was even less of a threat than the Legionaries themselves. He seemed a nice enough lad, but his lack of experience was telling. His grip on the slim blade he held was practiced. He clearly knew how to handle the weapon, but the tremble running through his sword arm gave away his panic. His eyes held a hint of fear within, his attention jumping from me to Vera and then to his father. He wasn't quite sure what was happening, nor why. I believed him when he confessed Vera that he didn't know who told his father of our arrival. He seemed like the sort to wear his heart on his sleeve. Much like me, lying didn't come easy to him. Especially so to Vera, who he was completely enamoured with. I wondered if he believed he was being subtle? It was painfully obvious to all of us, but also endearing in a way. The young man was of an age with me, but his lack of experience extended to more than just real battle The First Knight seemed to enjoy the attentions of the Senator's son, which I noticed caused Annabelle to roll her eyes more than once during our ride through Yelmora.

“I'll take that name now.” I reached for the Storm as I spoke, placing a finger of awareness on the connection that would summon my Eye.

A whispered word from my savage Smith had informed me that there were no Knights among those assembled with the exception of myself, Vera, Alden, Lencel and the Senator. The latter two were absent Smiths which meant any battle that took place would be quick and brutal. There was no way that mortals, no matter how experienced, could handle the Speed and Strength of a Knight. I was truly hoping that wouldn't happen, but I was ready for it nonetheless.

“Answer him, Calliston,” Annabelle said quickly, her eyes returning to the Senator's after seeing the resolve in mine, “Orin will leave with Princess Elora and Lady Tessaraina. He will not take our word that you are a man of yours.”

I looked to Senator August, who sat atop his steed with the elegant ease of man who had ridden for most of his life. I couldn't gauge his reaction, his expression giving nothing away and his smile remaining firmly locked in place.

“Legionaries, return to your posts.” The Senator said softly, his tone even and utterly unthreatened.

The men and women of the Legion, spears in hand, hesitated. One of their number spurned his horse closer, “Senator, perhaps it would be-”

“It is fine, Marcus,” Calliston said with a fond smile, “Orin of Myrin will not harm Lencel or I. He wishes to know the truth and so he shall have it. Unfortunately, this information cannot be allowed to spread. I trust you and your detail implicitly, but-”

“Say no more, Senator,” The Captain of Lencel's guard, Marcus, said with a quick bow before turning to his Legionaries, “You heard Senator August. Spears up, we return to our stations in the villa.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Calliston said, his eyes never leaving mine.

None of us dared to even twitch as the Legionaries followed the orders of the Senator, moving without a sound towards the distant grouping of houses that I assumed was the heart of the estate. One of the soldiers, a woman by the looks of her armour, kept turning her head back to stare at Lencel. Her hesitation was clear to all and it took a barked order from the Captain to make her move back into the Legionary formation.

“There you have it, Orin of Myrin,” The Senator spread his hands, “I have effectively disarmed myself. I would ask that you do the same. A gesture of goodwill.”

I respected the man for keeping his calm. Despite being surrounded by potential enemies his smile did not waver, nor did his soothing tone of voice. Was he simply hiding his unease, or was he that sure that I wouldn't harm him? It was hard to say for sure, but I could tell that he had faced down worse in his time than me. You could remove the armour and the weapons, but any warrior couldn't wash away the quiet threat they exuded with every breath. I'm sure Calliston August was a formidable fighter in his day, one which I would have been hard-pressed to beat. His attitude and bearing despite the circumstances made me respect him all the more.

I slid my blade home, returning it to the sheath on my horse's side. The old bastard had been surprisingly compliant since we'd passed the checkpoint into the city. Maybe we were finally coming to some understanding? I tempered that thought immediately. The fucker was probably waiting for the worst possible moment to make me look as idiotic as possible. Though it really was a toss up on who managed the surprisingly easy feat first. I was just as likely to make a fool of myself, something I found I had been doing with increasing frequency since first Bonding with Elora.

I lost nothing by disarming myself. Even without the sword that Tess had given me, I was still within reach of both my Princess and my mercenary. Should the need arise, I could Bond with them in one second and summon Rionna in the next. It was more a symbolic gesture, a concession I was willing to make. I lost nothing and it showed I was willing to listen.

The others followed my lead, with only Boldrin seeming to be rather put out by the whole thing, grumbling about fighting real soldiers again. I spread my hands, copying the Senator, to show that I too was absent arms, “The name, Senator.”

Calliston August raised a hand to his head, running weary fingers through his greying curls as a resigned sigh left his lips, “I can honestly say that I have not been keeping anything from you, Lord Orin. I was not lying when I said things were complicated. Any hesitation on my part has simply been because the story of how I received the information of your arrival is so strange, so unbelievable, that I wasn't quite sure how to explain it without sounding completely insane. A rather unlikeable quality in one who serves in the Senate as I'm sure you'll understand, being a leader of men yourself.”

It definitely wasn't the way I was expecting this conversation to go, but at least it was finally moving along absent bloodshed. I wasn't sure how he saw me as a leader either, but I pushed the statement from my mind and shook my head with a chuckle, “Senator, my life over the past few months has been anything but ordinary. I'm sure that I'll be able to accept what you say at face value.”

The Senator laughed then, “Careful, Lord. I will hold you to that.”

Calliston dismounted from his horse then and indicated for his son to do the same. Lencel August looked plainly baffled by how events were playing out, the sheer confusion in his honest eyes more than enough evidence for that, “I hope you don't mind that my son stays? I assure you that he is in the dark as much as you are. Once I explain, you'll understand why I kept it a secret, even from those I hold most dear. That is not something I do lightly, nor did I ever expect to do it with you, Lencel.”

“Of course, Calliston,” Vera said. The First Knight of Venos just looked relieved that I had put down my sword, “Lencel is a man now, he should stay.”

The pride that near exuded from the young man upon those words being spoken was so palpable I felt like it slapped me in the face. He truly did have genuine feelings for Vera and I could definitely see the appeal. A warrior woman, one who was as beautiful as she was deadly. I felt sorry for the lad, considering the match was doomed. To win her hand, he'd have to beat her. I'd won against her in a sword duel, sure, but it would take nothing less than a Master on Gida's level to earn the affection of the Knight of the Frozen River by beating her in true combat. Considering the way Lencel looked at her though, maybe he was up to the task. He seemed committed if nothing else. I found myself silently rooting for the success of the swordsman.

“My tale begins a month ago, on the very grounds of this estate,” Calliston began, his flair for the dramatic rather obvious with the intonation of his words, “A stranger arrived on my doorstep. She somehow made her way past fifty elite Legionaries and nearly double that number of servants to reach the very heart of my villa, completely undetected. More than that, she did it with her eyes bound.”

“Bound? As in, she was blind?” The Princess asked, leaning in as Calliston spoke. I near rolled my eye at Elora, though I managed to hold it in check. She had told me when we first met how much she liked a good story and it seemed that the Senator of Yelmora was successfully pulling my Princess in.

“Exactly right, Princess. Her eyes were bound with cloth, there was no way she could see and yet when I came down from my office to go to bed, I found her sitting in the centre of my sparring arena. She looked right at me. I can tell you now that it was eerie. I even made a show of moving around the arena as we spoke, but her eyes didn't leave mine for a second. I made to call the guard, of course. As a Senator, I can tell you this isn't the first time someone has tried to break into my estate to cause me or my family harm.”

“Where was I during this, father?” Lencel asked with a frown, “I don't remember such a visit.”

“You were with some of your friends in the city, Lencel, and your sisters were at Senator Tiber's estate for tea with his daughters. Only your mother and I were home. I look back now and wonder if she knew that was the case. Anyway, as I was saying, I was about to call the guard when she said something that gave me pause.”

“What did she say?” Tessa asked, seemingly just as taken up with the story as Elora herself. I smirked at my savage Smith, which made her cheeks flush a dark red.

“She said these exact words: 'Merry Bottom in the burrows. Tomorrow night, your enemy will await within'.”

“Merry Bottom?” Lencel mused, his brows pulled low in thought, “That watering hole near the eastern edge?”

Calliston August rolled his eyes, “I should not be surprised that my drunkard of a son knows of it.”

“H-Hardly a drunkard, father,” Lencel choked out, his eyes immediately going to Vera's, “My friends and I enjoy going to the burrows for a drink after training is all.”

“Nothing wrong with a hard drink after a long day's work.” Vera smiled sweetly at the boy which I was sure almost made the poor lad pass out, his face turning near purple as he grinned from ear to ear with happiness. Vera knew what she was doing, I could see the humour in her eyes.

“I turned back to speak with her, to ask her to explain herself. But she was gone,” Calliston shook his head with wide eyes, almost as though he couldn't believe it himself despite living it, “I did not sleep well that night. I put the Legionaries under my command on high alert and slept with a spear close at hand. The next day I couldn't get her words out of my head. I decided to act on them. What was the harm? If nothing came of the tip then I would know I had some kind of waking dream. If it helped me get some ne'er-do-wells off the street, then all the better.”

“And?” Tessa asked insistently.

“Was there something there?” Elora asked, a second behind.

My Smiths were adorably invested and I wouldn't deny that I was curious as well. I couldn't help but think that, in another life, Calliston August would have made a killing in the inns and taverns of Myrin as a storyteller.

“There was indeed. An enemy just as promised and one which would be rather familiar to you, my Ladies.”

Annabelle vision clouded for a second before the ice in her eyes pulled back into focus, “Monarchists.”

“Exactly right. Remnants of the organisation that you both helped me put an end to eight years ago. I found them cowering in the basement of Merry Bottom like rats. Each one of them was a former Legionary, each a trained killer. They even counted a Knight among their number. Apparently they had been planning something for the Festival tomorrow, a protest that would have no doubt ended with the blood of innocents being shed. They have gotten smart over the past few years, recruiting directly out of the Legions instead of from the general population. Their methods of spreading their propaganda have also grown more refined, creating pamphlets and speaking the 'good word' in the quieter corners of the Republic to drum up support. The head of the Senate's Investigation Corps was frankly baffled that they were so organised. That night we took their leadership down in one fell swoop. This proved to me that the mysterious woman was not a figment of my imagination, but real. So I decided to see if I could find her.”

“And did you?” Annabelle asked.

“For one week I searched. For seven days I placed all the resources at my command into finding the young woman. I can assure you, they were considerable and yet I discovered nothing. We were working under the assumption that she was somehow linked to the Monarchists. Perhaps a former member who had taken umbrage with the tactics they employed, yet none of those we captured knew anything about a blind woman. It was not until the eighth day that I saw her again. She appeared as before, catching me as I came down from my office with the setting sun.”

“What did she say?” I narrowed my eye at the man, already having as a suspicion as to how the tale ended.

“She said that she had given me the Monarchists to prove her trustworthiness and that she wasn't here for any nefarious plot to harm me or my family. Instead, the blind woman wanted something simple in return. She wanted me to deliver a message to Orin of Myrin.”

“To Orin?” Elora asked with a frown, her hand unconsciously coming down to rest upon my shoulder from atop her horse, “What message?”

Calliston shrugged before reaching into his white robe and pulling free a folded piece of parchment. It looked weathered and torn, but mostly in tact. The Senator tapped on it absently, “She went on to say that exactly one month from that day, I could expect the arrival of the Princess of Venos. I was to give this letter to her Knight.”

“Impossible,” Boldrin grumbled, “How in the Spirit's name could she have known that?”

“We're here,” Deirdric said with a shrug of his shoulders, “This woman clearly knew we were coming. Whose to say she couldn't see the future? Losing one's ability to perceive the physical doesn't necessarily mean that they couldn't find some other method of sight. Orin is a perfect example of that fact.”

I agreed with the scholar and dismissed the confused expressions of the Senator and his son, considering they didn't know about the Storm. I gently took the parchment from the man's outstretched hands, turning it over delicately and seeing my name written in elegant script on the opposite side.

I had expected any number of answers when I demanded a name from the Senator. A magically disappearing ghost girl who could see the future was hardly at the top of my list and yet I could hardly feel surprised at the revelation. Weird shit like this seemed to be drawn to me recently.

“I told you that it would be hard to believe,” Calliston chuckled and shook his head, “I can tell you that I don't believe it myself most days.”

“No, sadly, I do believe you,” I said with a sigh, “I wish I didn't, but I do.”

“We have had quite the time of it since Bonding, Calliston.” Elora chimed in helpfully, her explanation for why we were so ready to accept such an outlandish tale, “This wouldn't be the strangest thing that has happened to us since I met Orin.”

“It would be up there. Trouble is drawn to him,” Tessa said quietly, her eyes staring with worry at the parchment in my hand, “I don't like this.”

I smiled up at Tessa and placed a hand on hers before giving it a squeeze, “It'll be fine. It's just a piece of parchment. What's it going to do? Transport me across the continent?”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“This is the part where your mother would say 'don't tempt fate'.” Elora replied with an anxious smile.

“We are not truly humouring this story, are we?” Alden said, his disbelieving eyes moving to each of us in turn, “A magical woman who can appear and disappear at will?”

“Senator August is not a liar, Alden,” Annabelle said, her blue eyes locking onto Calliston with such intensity that it would've make a lesser man cringe, but the Senator held her gaze with ease, “Nor is he one given to bouts of madness or hysteria. I believe he is telling the truth.”

Calliston inclined his head towards the First Smith in gratitude.

“I did find it slightly odd that the message was for you, Lord Orin,” Calliston said after a moment's thought, “Please don't take this the wrong way but you travel in vaunted company. The Princess, the First Knight and Smith. You are the Knight of the Princess, true, but you are also considered a commoner in your home country, isn't that right?”

“Not so anymore,” I said with a laugh, “I'm a Count now, courtesy of the King and Queen.”

Calliston bowed his head, followed swiftly by Lencel, who copied his father, “Congratulations on your ascension. But even still, you are not... well...”

“I get it, Senator, no need to dance around the subject,” I chuckled at the uncomfortable man, “Truth is I don't know why I got this message either.”

It wasn't a complete lie. Perhaps I should be as worried as my Smiths, but the fact that a blind woman who could see the future had gone to so much trouble to give me a message was just making my sense of adventure rear its ugly head. My suspicions for the Senator were pretty much quelled at this point. I believed, much like his son, Calliston August found it difficult to tell a lie. The fact that Annabelle vouched for him also said a lot. I would agree that Vera's feelings for Calliston and his son may be biased, but not so in the case of her sister. I have learned over the course of our brief time together that Annabelle is a realist and one who does not allow personal feelings to interfere with her duty. If she said Calliston wasn't lying, then it made it all the easier to accept his story as fact.

“You said that you received this information from someone you trusted, Calliston,” Vera said. Her eyes, much like everyone else's, fixed on the small piece of paper in my hands, “A blind woman you've met exactly twice hardly qualifies as a reliable source.”

Calliston smiled helplessly, “I couldn't agree more, Lady Vera. Yet she was right. Her information may have saved the lives of hundreds and she asked a small favour of me in return. I cannot explain to you who she is. Spirit, I don't even know her name. But I do truly believe she can be trusted. I've spent years in the Senate and I like to think of myself as a good judge of character. This woman did not strike me as someone who meant your charges any harm. If I had believed otherwise I would have burned that letter and only met you at the gates to safely ferry you to your destination, bringing Karin along for good measure.”

“Karin?” Elora asked curiously, her golden gaze finally removing themselves from the slip of paper in my hand.

“My Smith, your Highness,” Calliston replied proudly, “Karin Faust of Yelmora. She lives in the city proper with her husband and son. She owns a small bakery.”

“Karin married?” Vera said with a snort, “My condolences to the man who caught her eye.”

“I said much the same when she first told me of him,” The Senator laughed, “But I have never seen her happier. He is a good man, works on the docks and they are happy. I haven't spoken to her in... Well, in nearly two months now. Beyond the occasional touch of the Bond, of course. Time seems to fly by when children are involved.”

I couldn't understand that at all. I tried to put myself in the Senator's shoes for a moment, imagining not speaking to either Elora or Tessa for two months. The mere thought of it almost gave me a panic attack, causing me to reach up and grab a hold of each of my Smiths hands, taking comfort from the contact. That in itself was very concerning. Maybe I was more dependent on my Bonds than I first thought?

Tessa squeezed back gently, as did Elora, who gifted me with a wide and affectionate smile.

“I see you are confused by this, Lord Orin,” Calliston said, catching sight of my unease, “I can understand why. We treat the Bond differently in Yeles than you do in Venos. In your Kingdom, it is considered strange to be without your Bonded partner for any length of time. Here in the Republic it is encouraged, as we believe independence should be nurtured. This, of course, does not apply to the first year of the Bond. A pair are told to spend as much time together as possible during this important phase, to ensure a strong and healthy connection. We have young Rig, Lencel's Smith, living with us at the moment for just such a reason.”

As Calliston spoke, I was painfully aware of the fact that I was holding onto Tessa just as hard as I was to Elora. I subtly released my hold on the girls, not liking it but having to keep up the ruse regardless. Lencel and the Senator didn't seem to notice, which I was thankful for. They didn't know I was an Heir. I was unsure if they even knew what an Heir was considering I didn't know if Calliston was a Master or not. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry.

“You gonna read that thing, lad?” Boldrin grumbled from atop his steed, “I'd say we're all damn interested in what the ghost girl has to say to you.”

“Aye, boss,” I grimaced, flipping the parchment in hand and examining it like some living serpent, one ready to take a bite of my flesh, “Suppose I'd better find out.”

I opened the piece of paper, noticing Tessa and Elora both dismounting to stand at either one of my shoulders as the others did the same behind them, peering around me to catch a glimpse of the words the letter contained. I all but rolled my eye at them, hoping that whatever message it carried wouldn't be anything too embarrassing.

'Dearest Orin,

I wish I could give you this message in person but, alas, the hands of destiny rarely allow one what they wish without price. The one I paid to even bring you this much was steep indeed.

When the time comes and all seems lost, do not lose heart. Save Faith and look to the sea. You may believe you are alone, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Fight through the dead trees and you will see those you love again.

I wonder what price you will have to pay in the end? More than any man should, I suspect, and less than you would be willing to give.

I have done you a kindness by telling you this, Knight of Myrin. I will expect it returned one day.

Warmest Regards,

Fate'

My eye ran over the words a dozen times, mouthing them under my breath as I tried to interpret their meaning. My attention kept returning to the name signed at the bottom, as though pulled there by some inexplicable force that I couldn't understand.

“Fate? Are we to believe that Orin is being contacted by concepts now?” Vera sighed with frustration from her place behind Elora before chuckling, “Though knowing you as I do, perhaps its not too surprising.”

“A dead forest? Save Faith?” Elora's eyes were filled with possibilities as my wife attempted to understand the meaning behind the message, “None of it makes sense.”

“Why would you be alone?” Tessa asked harshly, glaring at the piece of paper as though she wished to set it ablaze with a stare, “You have us, we would never allow that.”

“Perhaps there wouldn't be a choice, my Lady,” Alden said gently, raising a hand across his chest and performing some strange gesture I had never seen before, “One cannot fight fate.”

Boldrin laughed, his mighty chortles pulling our attentions as he returned to the side of his massive war-horse, “Come on, you lot aren't taking this shit seriously, are you? Some lass writes a vague letter and you all look like you're about to shit yourselves.”

Boldrin's mirth made me chuckle. I was glad he distracted the others. It gave me the opportunity to hide my trembling hand against my side. For some strange reason, these words meant something to me. I could feel my black soul shiver as I read them, especially so for 'Save Faith and look to the sea'. What they meant, I could not say, but it was enough to where I couldn't deny the message out of hand. I'd learned to trust my instincts and they were screaming at me.

“Perhaps we shouldn't be so quick to dismiss it,” Deirdric said with a thoughtful frown, “This women is clearly already aware of us and she has some small ability to predict events. It would be foolish of us not to take it seriously.”

“Aye, but nor should we take it as gospel, either,” Boldrin said with a shake of his head.

“Orin, are you alright?” The Princess asked, the concern on her face apparent as she slipped a hand into mine. I shouldn't have been surprised that she noticed my hesitation. Turning to Tess confirmed that she wasn't the only one, my savage Smith watching me with worried eyes that flickered down to the parchment in my hand.

“I don't know,” I answered honestly as I ran through the message again, memorizing the words without even realising I was doing it, “I don't know what it means. That makes sense, though. I've always known fate likes to fuck with me and getting a useless letter seems to be in line with my experiences so far.”

“At least we can all agree on the fact that this person doesn't mean you any ill will, Lord Orin,” Deirdric said firmly with a nod.

“And how exactly do we know that, Deirdric?” Annabelle argued, “What we have here is a story about a woman exposing a plot that endangered the peace of Yelmora and a few words written on parchment. We know nothing about her.”

“Deirdric's right,” I didn't know how I knew, but I did. I felt it in my very soul. This was a warning and one which I knew I should take seriously, “I don't think this blind woman, or whoever she is, wants to bring me harm. What I don't understand is why she couldn't just deliver the message herself. She was here only a month ago. Why go to all the trouble of contacting Calliston and using him to reach me? Why all the cloak and dagger? She seems to imply something was stopping her but it isn't clear what. Fuck, none of this shit is even close to clear.”

“I have asked myself the same question many times now, Lord Orin,” Calliston said slowly, a hand rising to once again brush against his curls, “I have come to a number of conclusions but none of them are founded, I'm afraid. Perhaps she was unable to reach you directly? Maybe something or someone was stopping her? All my theories might as well be air considering I have no way of confirming them.”

“I don't trust it,” Tessa spat out, “I would never leave Orin alone. I say we leave Yelmora.”

I turned to my Smith, concerned by her anger, but she refused to look at me, her arms folded and eyes stubbornly fixed on the earth at our feet. I made to speak but Boldrin beat me to it.

“Missed our shot, I'm afraid,” Boldrin said with a sigh, pointing at the sun, which was now falling over the horizon, “No ferryman worth his salt will take his boat out in the dark. The River Lith is just too dangerous. With the Festival coming up, chances are we'll be unable to leave until the day after tomorrow. We're stuck in Yelmora unless we can find another way to get to Hostor and I'm coming up empty We could always hoof it, but that'll add weeks onto our journey.”

I would've cursed if I didn't catch myself at the last second. From Lencel's explanation of the Festival, the last thing I wanted was to stay for it. A party of drunk, young warriors looking to make a name for themselves? Aye, I didn't like my chances of avoiding trouble in a melting pot like that. Shit, I couldn't avoid getting near beaten to death by idiots with clubs while going for a walk. Spirit knows what would happen if you threw a bunch of trained soldiers into the mix. Receiving some prophetic message from a blind stranger was hardly improving my already deteriorating mood.

“Then you should stay!” Lencel blurted out, his eyes going to Vera before jumping away again, “At least until after the Festival is done. We have the room to house all of you at the villa and you would be our honoured guests until your departure. Isn't that right, father?”

Calliston chuckled at his son's nearly desperate tone, “I couldn't have said it better myself. I apologise for my behaviour upon your arrival. It is my fault that you missed the boats. I really did mean what I said: All of you are more than welcome to stay with us. My wife and daughters would be ecstatic to finally meet you, Princess. If you feel you can't after what I've told you, then I understand. I wasn't exactly forthcoming with the truth. If you wish to make other arrangements, then I will help however I can.”

Calliston August bowed low to us then, his son following suit hurriedly. You could tell they didn't do it that often, the form of greeting more widespread in the Kingdoms of central Ouros than the Republic. I almost couldn't believe I was now judging someone else's bowing technique, considering I had been pretty shit at it myself until very recently.

I thought on Calliston's words and came to much the same conclusion as the other members of my company: We didn't have a choice. We were stuck here now and it was better to stay with Calliston than an inn in an unfamiliar city. I couldn't say exactly why, but I trusted the man. There was an air of Nobility to him that outshone most of those who carried a title back in Venos. I did think he genuinely cared for Elora and her safety, as well as for Vera and Annabelle. I bowed in return. His strange tale of a disappearing girl aside, I believed I could trust him.

“I must apologise as well, Senator,” I said, “I drew my sword on you and your son. For that, I am sorry.”

“No apology is necessary, Lord Orin,” Calliston beamed as he stood upright once more, “Protecting those we love is the mark of a great man, one which I am pleased to call friend. I would have done the same thing in your position, this I know.”

I believed him.

“Then we will accept your offer, Senator August,” Elora said authoritatively after looking around at all of us, “That is, if there are no objections?”

“None, your Highness,” Annabelle inclined her head to the Princess deferentially, “But we must be on our way as soon as possible, Calliston.”

“I will see you on the first ferry to Hostor at dawn after the Festival, my Lady. You have my word,” Calliston's promise was ironclad and, with a joyous nod to his son, he made his way back to his horse, near springing onto the beast's back, “I hope you like duck! I have prepared quite the feast!”

Calliston's enthusiasm was infectious, almost child-like. It was strange to think of this man as one of the most powerful men in the Republic. Boldrin drew up alongside me, reaching into his saddlebags to free his large pipe, sticking tobacco into it crudely even as his sharp eyes watched our surroundings.

“Lets just hope that Samuel is slow,” I muttered to my mentor as we trotted along, my Smiths following behind me closely.

“I wouldn't count on it, kid,” Boldrin grimaced as he lit the pipe and took a large draw. Pipe smoking had never really been one of my vices. I had tried it exactly once and the harsh leaf that Boldrin inhaled so easily had very nearly scorched my lungs, “But anything's possible. As for that letter of yours... well...”

I looked at the parchment that was still clutched in my hands.

“Maybe Alden's right, maybe you can't fight fate. I wouldn't think on it too much. You know how to keep things interesting, kid.” Boldrin chuckled and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder before pulling ahead to join the Ragorans, allowing my own Smiths to pull up alongside me.

Yet another player had revealed themselves, their life inextricably bound to mine. In what way, only time would tell. I wondered if the blind woman who told Calliston of our coming also knew that we would be stuck in Yelmora during the festival? I quickly realised that thinking like that would more likely than not drive me insane. I needed to focus on the now. The message would either one day make sense or it wouldn't. Either way, my concern was the two women who flanked me. As long as they were safe, I could keep going.

A brush against my hand caused me to turn to Tess on my left, her steely eyes fixed on the letter distastefully. She looked up and met my single eye with both of hers. What I saw there was a boundless determination that made a flush crawl up my cheeks.

“I'll never leave you, Orin.” Tessa said quietly, the words so resolved and absolute that they seemed to be almost solid, shining like steel. It was a promise, but so much more than that.

“Fuck Fate.”

* * *

Ivander sat on the balcony of his small room in the Cat's Eye, an inn located at the very heart of the Republic in Yelmora. He placed the tip of the pipe into his mouth and breathed deeply, inhaling the sweet scent of the leaves Zaina prepared for him hours before. It did little to help the pain that racked his broken body on a daily basis, but it did something and that was enough for the young Knight. He stared out into the bright lights of the beautiful city, gazing upon the distant Senate building. The warmth of the sun was retained within the surrounding stone despite the fact that the eye of the Great Spirit had long since set.

The pain was getting worse, but that was to be expected. Long periods of travel had been known to do that in the past and Ivander had never been so far away from home as he was now. He stirred himself in his chair, trying to get comfortable, as he often did. It never helped but it had become a habit. The heat was helping his body to recover faster, his aches slowly fading. It wouldn't take much for them to make a reappearance, this he knew only too well.. Still, it was better than the hellish, biting winds of Dunhold. He was glad to be free of the cold.

How long had it been now since he'd last seen the cruel mountains and jagged landscape of his homeland? He found that he didn't miss it much, glad to be free of bitter memories.. Dunhold was home, true, but it was also the source of much pain for the Knight and his fragile Smith. Better to be away for a while and training at the Hall afforded them that opportunity.

Ivander clenched his teeth as he remembered his not so triumphant return to the capital, his battered and broken army a shadow of what it once was. The fury of Felman was great and terrible. Many officers in the army had been put to death, including the unfortunate Captain Cole. A coward right up until his head was removed from his shoulders. The only reason that Ivander himself had been spared a similar fate was because of his beloved sister, who hanged off the arm of his King. She smiled and fawned over Felman as she was expected to.

It was said that the sins of the father should not be placed upon his children and yet Beth was forced to do just that as the newest wife of the monarch of Dunhold, one among many. Ivander could do nothing but watch as his sister whispered into Felman's ear, telling him of how her brother would serve Dunhold with honour in the future as one of their greatest Knights. Of how the country would be robbed should Ivander be put to death.

The worst of it was her eyes, filled with such terror when they met his own, pleading with him to stay silent, to say nothing. She was paying for his life by making the monster believe she loved him. If the facade cracked, Felman would kill her. She was saving him again, as she had once before when they were still so young.

The pipe snapped in the Knight's hand, his brittle bones creaking at the effort as the splinters fell to the ground at his feet. Beth was never far from his mind these days. He had once believed that he needed to earn Felman's trust, his respect, before asking for her freedom and the restoration of his Noble line. He should have known it was folly and perhaps he had, choosing to live in a foolish fantasy rather than face reality. But now he had another way, one which Zaina had given him.

Now he had Orin of Myrin.

“You dream of her at night. You murmur her name as you stir in your sleep. My whispers don't reach you, my love. So lost are you in hatred.”

The words broke the spell that the memories placed on the former General of Dunhold, his hand brushing against his tired eyes. How long had it been since he had a sound night's sleep? He couldn't answer that question. Perhaps months but more likely years. Zaina helped, but even she couldn't banish the darkness entirely. That impossible task was beyond anyone's means to remove.

“Is it done?” Ivander asked, brushing ash from his fingers.

“It is,” Zaina said quietly, though a shiver of excitement ran through her voice, “Orin of Myrin has arrived. He received my message.”

“Thank the Spirit,” Ivander sighed and wheeled his chair around to face his lovely Smith, who stared at him with her bound eyes, black hair and crooked smile, “A lot of effort went into this. I just hope it's worth it. We haven't the time to waste.”

Zaina moved closer, her movements lithe and graceful as she approached her Knight. The young woman went to her knees by his chair before resting her head on his leg. Ivander began to unconsciously stroke Zaina's silky locks, knowing how it comforted her.

“Oh, it was worth it, my love,” Zaina said sleepily, yawning as she did so, “It will save his life, of that I have no doubt. Your fate and his are intertwined, nothing must be allowed to stop that. He will help you.”

“You've said that before,” Ivander said curiously, as he gently ran his fingers through his Smith's hair, “Care to elaborate now? Or is it still knowledge beyond my reach?”

“No knowledge is out of reach,” Zaina looked up at him unsettlingly, “But sometimes it only comes to those who are patient.”

“And I am not?” Ivander snorted in derision, “How long have I waited for the chance to return honour to my line?”

“Too long, my love,” Zaina said in her smooth voice, rising up till she was between his legs, her pale arms curling up and around his shoulders, their noses near touching, “But you must wait a while longer yet. The Hall, Ivander, we must go to the Hall.”

“So we shall,” Ivander frowned as he raised fragile fingers and placed them to the scars that peered out from underneath Zaina's blindfold, “But this trip has already cost you much. I do not want to see you hurt again. Not like before.”

His words brought the memory to life, forcing him to think of their first attempt to contact Orin of Myrin.

After leaving Dunhold, Zaina had insisted on delivering the message to him in Myrin. Ivander had been against it for obvious reasons. Travelling through the hostile territory of Venos was bad enough without making directly for the capital of the nation he had attempted to conquer. Adding to that was the fact that they hardly blended in with the crowds. A cripple and a blind woman travelling together was certainly note-worthy anywhere in the world. But Zaina insisted and Ivander trusted his Smith to know the correct path. She rarely acted without reason and it was usually for his benefit.

They travelled for weeks, slowed to a crawl by Ivander's own crippled body, but eventually they caught sight of the great Spires of Myrin in the distance. A beautiful sight and one which made even Ivander feel slightly more invigorated.

“I sense him, my love,” His Smith had said from the steed next to his, her smile so bright it seemed to light up the day even more, “He is close. We do not have-”

Zaina stopped, a frown replacing her grin. For minutes, she sat on her horse, completely still and focused on the distant sight of the city of Myrin before she finally spoke, “Ivander... there's something else.”

She began to shake, her hands trembling so badly that they released the hold on the reigns of her horse as she stared in the direction of nothing at all. Her jaw dropped open and the shiver of her lips made a chill run down Ivander's spine, “I-It can see me.”

Zaina screamed.

The blind Smith fell off of her horse with an agonised yell, Ivander shouting her name as she rolled around on the ground. Desperate hands clawed at her eyes as shrill cries echoed through the surrounding woodlands.

The young Knight had cursed in a panic, hurriedly undoing the straps that secured his useless legs to the horse even as Zaina's blindfold became soaked with blood. The former General ripped himself free from his mount, falling to the ground with a growl of pain as his frail bones cracked from the impact. The sound of Zaina's terrified cries spooked his horse, but he managed to avoid being trampled as he crawled, snake-like, towards his Smith with bleeding fingers.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” Zaina screamed the words over and over again even as she continued to thrash like a dying animal, smashing her own head against the hard earth with violent abandon, “I won't do it again, I promise! Please!”

Ivander latched onto his Zaina, dragging her towards him and paying no mind to how she struck him with flailing arms. He wrapped himself as tightly as he could around her body, pulling his Smith closer so as to stop her from hurting herself. He ignored the sharp crack of bone as his frail flesh was punished by Zaina's twitching limbs, even when he spat blood from between his lips.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I promise, I'll stop, I'll go away. Please, don't hurt me anymore!” Zaina began to sob. Her hands, covered in her own blood, held out before her as though to stop some invisible attacker, “He is yours! I-I won't touch him!”

Ivander couldn't remember how long they rested there, Zaina continuing to mutter under her breath even as she wept. Each tear broke the young man's heart as he rested his chin on her head, whispering that everything would be alright.

It had taken him hours to get her onto her horse and hours more for him to mount his own. He had led them away from Myrin as fast as humanly possible, his own injuries left to the natural healing abilities that came from the Bond.

She said nothing for three days after that. She'd just sit where her Knight put her and stare into space. Ivander was often woken up at night as she shivered in his arms, her tears soaking through the rag that bound her eyes as nightmares took a hold of her.

He was starting to believe he had lost her entirely when she started to speak again. Those first words from her lips after so long very nearly broke him.

Zaina raised her hand up to touch his own, dragging Ivander back from the depths of his own mind and forcing his palm to cup her cheek as she nuzzled it softly, “Have no fear, my love. This plan was a good one. She cannot see me here. I am being careful, I promise.”

“Are you finally going to tell me who she is?” Ivander asked, concerned for the well-being of his Smith.

Zaina giggled girlishly, “Why would I do that, silly? You'd just forget.”

Ivander shook his head, exasperated. Zaina was his Smith and the greatest treasure in his life, but when he asked a question of her he was often left more confused with her answer than if he left well enough alone. It was infuriating, but a part of their compact. She could only tell him what he needed to hear and everything came with a price. He just hoped that one day she would be free of the visions that haunted her. Though he was unsure whether she would ever want such a thing.

“Do you love me, Ivander?” Zaina asked vulnerably, her grip on his hand growing all the firmer.

The image of a young girl, dressed in rags and looming over him as he lay in bed flashed through his mind. A crooked smile on cherry red lips, eyes bound to hide the fresh wounds that still wept crimson tears. A hand extended, a promise made.

“You know the answer to that question,” The young man whispered, his thumb brushing against her lips.

“I know. I just wanted to check,” Zaina grinned, her smile gleaming in the lamplight exuded by the residences of Yelmora, “We should leave in the morning, make for the Imperial Road. She hasn't started to look for me yet, but she will. If we get far enough away from Orin, she won't be able to follow.”

“As you wish,” Ivander said tiredly, running a hand over his eyes, “I hope I can sleep tonight.”

Zaina leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead before resting her cheek atop his crown, “I swear that after all this is over, you will sleep more soundly than you ever have.”

The former General sighed as he leaned against his Smith and breathed deeply, “That would be nice.”