“The moon wolves… moon wolves dressed in black… they took them, they!” the woman cried in despair. She crawled on her knees before Shadow and begged: “Please find them!”

“Moon wolves?” Shadow leaned down to the stranger, struggling to understand her.

The woman burst into tears. She was a highlander with a broad figure and some mixture of azraani blood—quite typical for the dwellers of the Ridge. Her long black dress and a black shawl that covered her hair were signs of mourning.

Shadow attempted to help the woman to stand up but almost got pulled to the floor instead—the highlander was at least twice heavier and stronger. Embarrassed, Shadow pushed herself up and tried to release herself from the woman’s grip at least, but that also turned out to be a challenging task.

“Please bring them back! Chase the black wolves away!”

It was Sword who first came to help. He jumped out of the table, and together they helped the crying woman to sit on the bench.

“Calm down! Where have you seen moon wolves?” Shadow spoke to her to no effect.

The owner of the tavern did not take long to come.

“Please forgive her!” he bowed to them. ”The poor woman is insane. She will not bother you anymore! Gamhar, walk her out, now!”

The waiter, who looked like the owner's son, took the woman away with the help of one of the locals. She did not resist but was crying all the way to the door, repeating the same words over and over again.

”How is the food?” asked the tavern owner while sobbing was still heard. He smiled broadly as if nothing had happened. ”Is everything tasty? Hamrish, bring our guests more fahwa! All drinks are free for you, honorable wardens. Please forgive us for this incident.”

It was a small and cozy tavern in a village a dozen miles away from the Copper Road and more than a day away from the Windwarden. Four friends: Shadow, Spark, Sword, and Hamster, arrived here just an hour ago, around midday. As wardens of the Ridge, they got a small separate table and were about to enjoy their dinner when the woman dressed in black came in. Upon noticing the wardens, she rushed to them and suddenly fell to her knees. She looked desperate rather than insane, and Shadow could not simply let it slide.

“No worries,” she told the tavern owner. “Who is she?”

The man was plumpy with a tan face and black beard lightly touched with gray. He was not pleased with this question but could not avoid answering the warden.

“She is no one, my lady,” he said reluctantly. ”Just a poor widow. She lost her mind after her husband and sons disappeared.”

“Did moon wolves kill them?”

“Ar, fraga! She keeps saying that, but no one saw them dead. She must not wear black, fraga! They went to Bushra to earn some money a month ago and then disappeared."

“Disappeared?"

"Yes. No one saw them in Bushra or here. Stupid fraga, maybe they just went somewhere else?! Please forgive her!”

That was all he was ready to share. While they spoke, the rest of the tavern eyed Shadow and her friends with reserved caution. The place was almost empty at this hour, with only a few other guests sharing a long table: three farmers or fahwa makers and two old hunched vards. Their grim faces clearly show no interest in cooperation.

“That was sudden,” Hamster shrugged after Shadow dismissed the tavern owner.

Sword returned to his place and asked:

”Did you understand what she was speaking about?”

”Not really. It was something about the moon wolves.”

”Hm… in this case, we need to investigate. If moon wolves come close to the Copper Road, this makes a big problem.”

”Let’s inform rangers, but I don’t think we should meddle with this,” Hamster shook his head. “You heard the tavern owner: no dead bodies were found.”

”He says there were no bodies,” Sword uttered suspiciously, ”but several people can’t simply disappear. Maybe he hides something to avoid troubles.”

”To cover up the moon wolves? Are you kidding? If they saw moon wolves near the village, I bet he would be already riding fast to the Windwarden to beg us to send rangers here.”

”I wouldn’t be surprised if they are hiding something," Shadow drawled while thinking. "Mountain folk always does their best to settle troubles by themselves. They will avoid involving outsiders at any cost."

Why, then, did she come here so fast? Probably, someone told her that wardens had arrived in the village, and she rushed immediately. This means we are her last hope, but hope for what?

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

”If you say so…” Hamster did not sound convinced, ”but it’s about the moon wolves. Aren’t people afraid of them anymore?"

"Maybe this is the case indeed. Moon wolves have become rare nowadays. It’s not like twenty years ago when every farmer who dared to stay here had to keep the light burning through all night in his house. Anyway, we must report this to the rangers,“ said Shadow.

I would investigate this myself, she thought, still in doubt, but it will be a diversion from the mission Fire Storm entrusted me,

“Agreed.”

Sword cleared his throat.

“Guys, before we were interrupted, I was going to make a toast,” he stood up again, holding his mug with fahwa. “One year ago, we were preparing for our Ascension; we were all learning sword dance and practicing archery hard, but among all of us, the most faithful and purposeful was always our friend Flaming Arrow. She always supports us and never leaves her friends in trouble. Do you remember that evening when, after a long practice in pair dancing, we could barely stand? That evening when I accidentally cut our master’s coat of arms in half? That was a disaster… that would be a disaster if not for Flaming Arrow. Without hesitation, pretending that she had misstepped, she hit the coat of arms right next to me to share the punishment. Now, thanks to her, we are all here, serving as wardens of the Ridge, witnessing the restoration of the mountain domain after decades of desolation. She is the bravest and most honorable person that I know! Let’s drink this fahwa to the Flaming Arrow!”

It took Shadow a few moments to realize that Sword was speaking about her. One needs time to get used to the new name, especially when it’s not sitting well.

Shadow’s cheeks blushed—a rare occasion with her tan skin.

“Thank you, my friend, but this’s too much credit, I believe,” replied she.

”You deserve much more, Flaming Arrow. Bottoms up!”

Sword drank his fahwa.

“Cheers!”

“Bottoms up!”

The drink tasted a bit sour but warmed the heart nevertheless. The food was even more different from what they were used to. On the table were a variety of vegetables, flat-breads, and char-fried meat so black that it looked itself like char.

“Let’s enjoy the meal!” said Sword, who, as it seemed, decided to stir the company today.

“Let’s try, my friend,” Hamster took himself a lamb leg.

Spark started with soup and rabbit.

The Ascension went well for all three. Sword killed the twin hounds as he planned, although it took him more than a day to track the second twin, and all that time, he carried the first dog with him to ensure it would not revive. For his tracking skills, Sword was now known as White Hawk, With Feathers As Sharp As His Eyes. Hamster caught a mere turkan, which was still enough for a new name. He became Straw Fang, Deadly In His Soft Silence. Spark boasted a much better name: she became Snow Star after capturing the moon owl. Yet none of the friends could compete with Shadow. Flaming Arrow That Flies Bright Through The Night Even When All Lights Are Gone—her new name was as great and glorious as she could dream of. Why, then she felt so uneasy when someone called her like this?

“And that time, I indeed misstepped,” said Shadow, refilling her mug with fahwa.

“That was a very precise misstep, then!”

“Thank you, Hawk, but now I feel myself in debt. It’s Snow Star who actually deserves a toast, as it was her birthday yesterday.”

Shadow lifted her mug.

“We are not going to celebrate it the whole week, aren’t we?” Star laughed.

“Yesterday, we were on the road and did not have a chance to do it properly,” reasoned Shadow. ”Let’s drink to the Snow Star! Let her path of the warrior be glorious and long!”

“To the Snow Star!”

“Many victories on your way!”

The tavern seemed to relax, seeing their cheerful attitude. Everyone forgot about the woman in black.

The next toast was to their new names, and then Snow Star suggested:

“I have a toast too! It’s to our dreams that came true thanks to Shadow!”

“Another glorious achievement on my list?” Shadow laughed forcedly. ”Which dreams are you talking about, my friend?”

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s only six months since our Ascension, yet here we are in the Heart of The Ridge, serving as wardens under the command of your mighty brother, Fire Storm! And this is thanks to you!”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Shadow waved. ”Fire Storm asked me were there prominent disciples who trained with me in the Silver Sliver school, and I told him your names. Besides, these mountains would be too dull without you, guys.”

“Ha-ha!” Snow Star laughed. ”At least we can entertain you in return.”

“Thanks. Really. I’m glad that we are here together. We are the best team!”

”Let’s drink to the best team, then!”

”And to the best friends!”

Hawk took the jug to pour everyone fahwa, but it was empty. “Is it me, or are jugs here a lot smaller on the inside than on the outside?!” he exclaimed, laughing. ”Hei, master, bring us more of your good drink!”

“I would stop at this point,” mumbled Fang. “We are on a mission—let’s remember. And this place is indeed not so safe.”

”Won’t you drink to your good friends?”

”Gladly, but…”

”Guys, please!” Shadow intervened, trying to pick the right words. ”We have reasons to celebrate today, but I agree with Straw Fang: let’s not get too excited. I wanted to look for that vard smith today. It is not dark yet, and we have time.”

The tavern owner’s son brought them another jug with fahwa. He was as amiable as his father and praised the guests and the Crimson Alder clan.

”I wonder,” Fang smiled when the waiter left, ”what will they say when they know that we are here to steal the best smith from their village?”

This was the task Fire Storm entrusted Shadow with: to bring the Molle Grinderhammer, who recently settled in this village, to the Windwarden. Grinderhammers were famous for their weaponsmith skills for centuries. Like many other vards and people, they left these places soon after the magical creatures appeared and resettled South. It was not so long ago when people started saying that some of the Grinderhammers had returned to the Heart of the Ridge, and one of the best smiths settled in this village. The garrison of the Windwarden was in desperate need of good weapon smiths and would benefit greatly from his skills.

”To steal a smith? When you say this, it sounds like we will stun him and put him in a bag,” Shadow was about to laugh when the tavern door opened, and new guests came in. First, Shadow caught sight of one with the corner of her eye. It was a figure in long black clothes. Did she return? Shadow thought, mistaking the figure for the mourning woman, but more people came in, and they all wore the same long black wool shirts. Shadow looked at them with her eyes wide open.

The tavern owner greeted new guests and invited them to the common table—there was enough room. Yet one recognized Shadow and stopped, looking at her in return.

Belrigan? she remembered the name of the young monk. What is he doing here?