Reonda watched as Nyal sifted through the collapsed tent. All that she and Teolus could see from outside was the tip of her talons and tail. They had no idea what she was searching for, but considering the increased groans, she wasn’t having much luck finding it. It culminated with a mix between a growl and a controlled scream as she exited the tent. She sat, head tilted and wing tapping the ground. Her form slumped after a few seconds.

“Vaqé’e ta,” Nyal muttered. The defeated tone she carried told the Acamian all she needed to know about how the search went. “Trata.”

“Guess it wasn’t in there,” Reonda whispered, Teolus nodding in agreement. She walked to the hen’s side and kneeled down. “Um… kiere te Nyal… look for?”

Nyal looked at her with endless confusion, Reonda’s poor attempt to mix acamese and harparic turned out horribly. Embarrassed, Reonda turned her head away to avoid what she believed was the look of an insulted Harpen. Tapping her talons against the dirt, Nyal tried to figure out a way to describe what she was trying to show the girl. The middle talon scraped away some dirt as she did, and with an excited squawk she turned back to the Acamian.

“Reonda Reonda!” She said, nearly laying a wing to further draw the girl’s attention.

She retracted it quickly, not just because she remembered how Reonda had acted earlier but also because the girl had turned to her. Unable to hold in her excitement, Nyal started jumping up and down, drawing Reonda to the center of the camp. Once they were there, Nyal tapped the ground before them. The Acamian looked at it with equal confusion, and then saw the Harpen start digging her middle talon into the stand and dragging it around.

It became clear after a minute what she was doing. The first thing drawn into the ground was a figuring lying down. It was then joined by another standing on top of it, an extra line coming from its stick figure hand aiming down at the first figure. Nyal then drew two arrows, one pointer at the extra line. She drew a dagger at the other end of that arrow, a shiver being sent through Reonda at the scene she realized was being drawn before her.

The second arrow solidified it, for it started on the figure laying down and pointed towards Nyal.

“That’s… you?” Reonda asked, pointing between them. Nyal gave a nod as her response. “So that is why we found you where we did.”

“I don’t get it,” Teolus replied. “What does her badly digging into the ground have to do with us meeting her.”

“Don’t worry Teolus, you don’t need to understand,” She told the hawk, patting him on the head. “I’m guessing that was in the tent?”

She pointed to the dirt drawing of the blade, and then back to the collapsed tent. The motion was enough for Nyal to guess what she meant, and gave a nod. It was a shame; all blacksmiths had their own style and if it was available Nyal or her could possibly ask the Historia who it belonged to. That was now out of the equation, which meant those responsible had gotten away. There only means to find the culprit: recovered by the one that used it.

Nyal thought for a moment about what to do for a moment. While Reonda knew nothing of what the Harpen’s Historia had said, the knowledge her parents still lived compelled her forward. They were out there, somewhere, and by the Oracles she was going to find them no matter what it took.

The idea of speaking out to the Oracles after learning she was apparently one herself did feel weird. She looked down at herself in the same way she had when Historia had revealed that truth to her. Everything about the idea of being so powerful being of death felt wrong to her. Every piece of her felt like any other Harpen; she seemed far too mortal to be a good. If it had been said by anyone else she would have declared it false. It was only because of Historia she actually believed it.

Even then, however, she had no wish to be an Oracle, especially the Oracle of Death. Life or balance maybe she would be okay with it but death? She had seen her mom and dad hunt animals for food, and no matter how natural they always told her it was, it was scary. She wanted nothing to do with it, especially after nearly dying herself last night. If she could say no and give it to someone else, she would.

Yet she was certain that no such option was open to her.

So her mind turned back to what she did have control over: where to go from here. Her mind immediately went to where she had been planning to go before all this happened. She recalled her parents' talk with those nights, and the faire they had planned to visit in Makaus. It was then she realized that the culprit behind her parent’s kidnapping most likely would head there as well. It was the closest population center for a good while, and right where Duke and Duchess Azkeith controlled the Razia province from.

It was the perfect place to get word of the assailant out. She just hoped they knew more Harparic than most humans in Reine. With confidence, Nyal spoke.

“Makaus.”

“Makaus?” Reonda asked.

“Faire y knights y… duke,” Nyal said, doing her best to go back and forth between Harparic and a barely functioning Acamese. It proved to be enough, the dawning of realization becoming visible in Reanda's eyes.

“The dukes! Of course!” Reonda exclaimed. She forced herself a bit quieter as she continued, eyes stuck on the ground. “We tell them what happened, they can find your parents' murders. It’s also on the way to Pierzzè if I’m remembering correctly,” She turned to Teolus. “Sounds good, right?”

“Yes. Would also allow us to leave Nyal in a safer place,” The hawk replied.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Then we are in agreement,” Reonda said as she turned back to Nyal. “We head towards Makaus.”

----------------------------------------

Closer to the southwest border of Reine and Acamus was the castle town of Makaus. Home of Duke Bastion Azkeith and Duchess Marryl Azkeith. While Reine’s Razia province, which Makaus found itself in, was one of the less populated regions of Reine, it made up for it in its agriculture. Where heavy forests weren’t, farmlands with granaries, acres worth of fields, not to mention sheep and cows and other livestock could be found.

While it would still be a day or two till the faire officially started, not every merchant was gonna wait till that day to start selling. For one merchant in the castle town, selling bread and other such pastries, that was just the case. The locals would have just as much to offer as travelers after all, and food would be on their wary mine. It was for that reason he set up his stand when he did, and while he had yet to have too many customers in the early drags of the morning he was not without company.

Said company came in the form of a knight who seemed just a year or two off from retirement. It was clear he had seen much blood shed, the showings of a scar along his face. His hair was long gone, wrinkles adding up from age. His name was Riegar Cospulous, the Deathwisher, a man well known for having survived more campaigns against Acamus than even Reine’s top general. To be in the presence of such a man was wonderful, though he was not the most cheerful lot.

“Sir Cospulous, I understand you’ve seen more than your fair share of dark events, but must you keep that frown on your face?” The merchant asked in a lighthearted show. “There is nothing to worry about. Reine is in a fine state and more than capable of shoving off any of what Acamus throws at it.”

Riegar shook his head as he heard the man talk. He had seen the same optimism many times before, and it was always found in those of higher standings. After all, merchants and craftsmen saw the eternal war as an equally eternal profit for themselves. He did not blame the man for his stance, but it was not one he could stand for.

“Yet the population grows thinner, and the farmland less fertile. That is to say nothing of losing our only trade partners to that damned barricade,” Riegar responded. “Sure things might seem fine for the moment but make no mistake: if we stay our current course Reine will fall far before Acamus.”

“Ah, then I assume you aren’t aware of recent developments between his majesty and his daughter,” The merchant said. Riegar raised an eyebrow as he noticed a smug grin creep onto the younger man's face. “While King Sullivan still holds the throne his health has taken a steep downturn. Considering he has not yet fathered a male heir, and the claims that his daughter is an Acamus Sympathizer," He held up a copper piece to inspect passively as he continued. “Well, I need not say what would happen.”

“So it is true then?”

Attention turned to the side of the stand, neither Riegar nor the merchant noticing the figure that had snuck up to his side. They were small, which was fitting as their voice was quite young, but that was all either of them could tell. She was clothed so heavily in garbs that they had no idea how she couldn’t be sweltering in the late summer heat. The only visible clothing layers were a cloak that covered her whole body, and a self-made leather mask that covered her face. The merchant quickly checked their stand, keeping in a sigh when he noticed that not a single bread or pastry seemed to be missing.

“I had heard a rumor that the Princess was exchanging letters with someone from Acamus,” She continued on, ignoring the intrigued stare she was getting from Riegar. “Something about seeing a bird carrying messages over Barborassa to the castle, I think?”

“Nah, that isn’t the reason why. After all, no one in Acamus would be caught dead using a carrying pigeon," The merchant told her, waving off the girl as he looked back at Riegar. “No, I’m talking more about the prolonged differences that the two have had. His majesty is more than fit for this war to continue but her? She sees it the same as you, Sir Riegar.”

“Aye, she does. Have had the pleasure of personally talking with Princess Susanna before. A good heart in that body despite its upbringing,” Riegar said with a nod, the words earning a rare smile from the man. The young girl could tell from looking at his face that he barely did. “That said, last I heard Sullivan is in good health.”

“That is what they would have you believe, but I heard that he has come down with a rather horrible fever in the past week,” the merchant told the knight.

The young girl stammered back in shock, having heard like so many others that King Sullivan was immune to all sickness. Riegar knew that idiotic lie placed in the peoples hearts had gotten to her like most of the citizenry. After all, it was far easier to fool a populace with no education than one that did. He had once been the same as her, but the years spent as a soldier and knight and the education gained because of it opened his eyes. As long as Reine remained a Monarchy, that wouldn’t change.

“Poisoning then. It must have been an attempt to poison him!” The girl exclaimed, a stomp of her foot marking the end of her words.

“Poison, illness, whatever it is you can be damn sure what will be next,” The merchant replied, unable to help but chuckle at the girl’s naivety. “Princess Susanna will be crowned queen of Reine, marking our first lady ruler in many years, and she will sue for peace,” He pointed at Riegar. “A peace that, as the Deathwisher put it, might be a saving grace for our nation.”

Riegar let out a grunt as he heard that.

“Yet the nail in the coffin for our alliance with Ekra Eshan and the Harpen,” He replied. “You ask me that sounds more like a step back.”

“I don’t completely understand but… Princess Susanna wants to befriend the Acamians. That is what you are saying?” The girl asks, getting a nod from both men before her. “Don’t worry, that won’t happen. King Sullivan is too great a man to die from a sickness.”

The merchant once again chuckled at the girl, while Riegar shook his head. His eyes stayed on her as she turned and walked away, briefly noticing hers as he did. What he saw caused him to scowl, putting his hand on his sword as he took a few steps in front of the stand. All the merchant could do was watch, confused as to what was going on.

“Hey!” Riegar called out to the girl. She swiftly turned back to meet his gaze, though due to the distance he could no longer get a look at what he saw. “Hot day to be wearing all that on your body. Are you hiding anything?”

“No sir. I’m albino,” The girl tells him. She noticed the scowl on him turn to grim realization. “It is indeed warm today, and I hate it, but this is preferable to burning under the slightest sign of the Rul’s rays.”

The knight looked to the sky real quick, noticing the distinct lack of clouds above them. It more than backed up the girl’s claim, Riegar unable to help but feel guilty in response. With a nod and wave of his arm, he motioned she was free to go. The girl did just that, neither man was able to notice as she took out a danish from her inside her cloak’s sleeve. Lowering the low-quality, self-made mask she was wearing under her cloak just enough to eat it. That had been way too close, but she had food for another day.

“Was something the matter, Sir Riegar?” The merchant asked.

“I swore I saw the eyes of a beastkin,” Riegar answered, noticing the breath the other man held as he heard that. “I was sorely mistaken.”

With that news, the merchant relaxed. “Thank heavens. Last thing we need before the faire is those furred bastards showing up.”

Riegar simply nodded in agreement.