Falyar was sitting by the fire and tried to comfort the survivors from Varnutum. There was only one way he knew how to do it. Telling stories. And since Hewin went to bed to chase his strange dreams, Falyar told them once again the story of his sword Lynxbright. Same old tricks, same old stories. I think I am becoming an old man. It is as it should be. But still, I dread the day I stumble on a flat road, Falyar drifted in his thoughts after he had given them Lynxbright to inspect it. Falyar's sword went from hand to hand and the people sitting around the fire were in awe. Falyar was happy it took their minds off the horror they had to endure these last days.

"Dad! Dad!" Shenian's voice echoed from the house she was resting in.

Falyar took Lynxbright back and sprinted inside.

He found Shenian standing by Hewin's bed.

Her eyes were hazy, her body shivering with fever.

"Hewin's gone, dad," she said and handed Falyar a note on paper.

Falyar was tired and felt his temper rise: "Sit down Shenian, right now! You need to heal, girl, not wander around."

She sat down but shook her head: "I know, dad! I am not stupid. I heard rustling and just wanted to check if he is alright. And it turns out he is not!"

Falyar looked at the note. It said,

> Dear Falyar and Shenian,

>

> thank you for all you've done for me. I will never forget it. You risked so much by being around me and I can't bear it anymore. We almost died several times and I cannot lose you like I lost my parents. You need to heal and I think the people that came to the village are looking up to you. But, to give you a chance, I must go and try to stop this plague once and for all. I think that is why the Voidsword has been given to me. Please, don't be angry with me.

>

> Hewin.

Falyar sighed. Of course you did this, you wonderful stupid boy, he thought.

"See! We need to go after him, he will go to Dan Kat for sure," Shenian insisted.

"You are going nowhere, daughter. If anything, I'll go after him. But...," Falyar was interrupted by a loud voice coming from outside: "Praise be the Glorious Atnos, the famous Fat Hare Inn is within my reach."

Seconds after, Ralka ran to the room with a worried look: "Please, sir. There is a man outside and it seems he knows nothing about the black terror in Faer Zavelin."

"Poor man. I think the best thing we can do is to sit with him by the fire, feed him and explain the situation after. It is better if he hears all of it with something in his stomach," Falyar replied.

Ralka shook her head: "No, you see...ehm...he is one of the wandering monks worshipping Atnos. And he has a Lynxarian tied to his horse."

Falyar turned sharply.

"Sir, you saved us. We don't want to do anything with these fanatics. What I mean to say is...we stay with you no matter what you'll decide to do," Ralka explained awkwardly.

Falyar's eyes narrowed: "Thank you, Ralka. Can you please stay with my daughter? She is not well."

Ralka agreed without hesitation and tucked Shenian into Hewin's bed. "Ah you poor girl, you are shaking! I will make you hot tea with honey, what do you say?" Ralka offered and Shenian nodded.

Falyar stomped out of the building to find a middle-aged man in red robes with a big golden triangle embroidered on his chest. His head was completely shaved except for a tiny braid on the side. He had a scar across his lips and his blue eyes were wide with amusement. Behind his horse stood a Lynxarian woman in dirty rags, her hands were tied. Her fur was so dirty and wet that it was impossible to guess the original color and pattern.

Falyar felt himself searching for the handle of his sword.

"I must say, Varnutum looked different in the stories I've heard. What happened here? Were you hit by a storm recently?" The man asked Hernan.

Hernan looked relieved when the man turned to Falyar.

"Ah, a fellow Lynxarian. Take my horse to the stable and give him a good brush, will you?" the man said matter-of-factly.

Falyar fought hard to keep his claws from extending. Then he said with a stern voice: "What is your name, stranger. And why is this person tied to your horse?"

The man cocked his head in surprise: "My name is Sartivar Onerus but you can keep your name to yourself, friend," he made a step closer to Hernan and inquired: "Surely, you don't tolerate this tone, or do you? And why do you allow your cats to wear a sword?" He sounded baffled.

"I asked you something!" Falyar rumbled and Hernan took a few steps back closer to the fire.

Sartivar bit his lip in frustration: "Am I missing something here?" Then he looked at the night sky and asked: "Have you forsaken this place, my Lord? Is it a test on my path towards you?"

Then he turned his attention back to Falyar: "One more time...one more time you'll use that tone with me and I will whip you and take you to the monastery with her," he pointed at the Lynxarian woman who just stood there like a shell of a person.

Falyar looked at the people sitting by the fire. They were trembling, some of them were holding hands. They are afraid their nightmare continues, he understood.

Falyar tried to compose himself and spoke more calmly: "You were right, there was a terrible storm and we are lucky that we've survived it. We just wish to have a peaceful night to lift our spirits. The inn is closed but you can spend the night in that house," he pointed across the field.

Sartivar stood there silent. Disgust dripped from his eyes. Eventually, he shook his head and went to his horse. "I wish I went through Tribon crossroad instead of going here," he muttered and then he said loudly to everybody: "Don't go close to my cat! She has the cat curse! Only the monastery can save her now."

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

***

Falyar was sitting on the bed and watched Shenian breathing regularly. He struggled to keep away murderous thoughts about the man outside. How can I save that woman without bloodshed? He kept asking himself.

Ralka entered the room to check on Shenian as well. "Oh, sorry, sir. I didn't know you were here."

She turned to leave but then she hesitated: "I am sorry but I overheard the talk outside. Can I ask you what is... the cat curse?"

Falyar sighed: "It's an illness, Ralka. Not a curse. It is an extremely rare but reoccurring trait of Lynxarians since the beginning. When Lynxarians have a kid, it sometimes happens that something switches in one of the parents, some old predatory instinct, and they are consumed by a sudden urge to kill the kid as well as their partner. The terrible thing is that this can be triggered anytime before our kids turn ten years old. That's why most Lynxarians have only one kid. We don't want to risk it too much."

Ralka gasped: "That is terrible! But you said it is extremely rare, right?"

"Right," Falyar answered, then he looked up and added: "But it still happened to us. Two weeks before Shenian's tenth birthday."

Falyar began to cry quietly: "I am sorry...Ralka...I've never told this to anybody."

Ralka sat down next to Falyar and hugged him strongly. "I am so, so sorry. But you survived and your daughter is a very kind person. You have each other."

"Yes, yes," Falyar sobbed. "Vamika suspected it was coming. She told me she was sometimes dreaming of... killing us... and one night she did try to attack Shenian in her sleep. In her last sane moment, she packed up and disappeared. It is a cruel illness... Vamika can live a perfectly peaceful life anywhere and be normal. The instinct to kill appears only when the family is in her sight. Or, she might be already in the monastery, dragged there by an insane cultist. Do you know why they take them there?"

Ralka felt Falyar's tears soak her sleeve. She didn't release him from the hug and was glad that Shenian was in a deep sleep, totally unaware of the conversation. Poor girl, so many terrors so early in her life. It is a wonder she can walk under such a heavy burden, she thought. Ralka didn't have kids, she had a curse of her own. But being barren now sounded to her less cruel than having a family that you suddenly want to murder.

"These monks believe that Atnos will grant them passage on the sacred boat across the Ocean of Sorrow if they bring him a sinner," Ralka explained how she remembered it from boastful tales of travelers.

"And what happens to the sinners?" Falyar asked in a whisper.

"I don't know," Ralka admitted.

Suddenly, Hernan and the others entered the room as well. This time, Shenian woke up and looked curiously at all the people.

"Falyar," Hernan said. "It started to rain... and he tied her to a tree outside. He forbade us to give her food and water. He said she can try to drink the rain. He ran out with a flail when we tried to give her a piece of bread."

Falyar kissed Shenian on the forehead, stood up, and took Lynxbright from the table.

"Dad, don't go." Shenian looked at him.

"Don't worry girl, I'll be back in a minute," he winked at her. "Thank you Ralka for your company," he bowed and went out.

He walked across the soaked field to the tree in front of the house where Sartivar was staying.

Falyar cut the rope with his sword and lifted the woman up. "Thhhan..k...you," she whispered almost unconscious. He carried her halfway back across the field when he heard Sartivar: "Bring her back you bag of fleas!"

Falyar saw Hernan grab a pitchfork but Falyar shook his head. Sartivar hated Lynxarians, and Falyar didn't see why the humans should bleed for this feud. Besides, he was sure that in case of his failure they wouldn't let this maniac to do something to Shenian. "Just carry her inside, Hernan, thank you."

Hernan took the woman from Falyar's hands and carried her away.

Falyar now turned back to Sartivar.

Sartivar had a triangle-shaped shield in one hand and a flail with a spiked metal ball on a chain in the other.

"How can you be so confident that you don't need any help, cat?" Sartivar cried out and spit on the ground.

Falyar chuckled: "Because they told me you have a flail, the stupidest weapon there is."

Sartivar laughed a terrible laugh: "Puffing your chest like the animal you are! Atnos will be pleased after I deliver him your mangled corpse this night!"

"Well, most likely you'll kill yourself with that spiky ball of yours. I am curious what Atnos will say to that," Falyar smiled again. As a royal guard, Falyar confronted a fair share of various fanatics. He knew this sort of trash talk led them into a spiral of hate. They were more prone to be reckless afterward.

They started to move in a circle.

Sartivar's face was red with rage: "I heard you Lynxarians are into the rebirth nonsense. If that is true, this is your chance to leave this filthy husk and move up in the world. A human, or a slug in your next life..doesn't matter. Anything is better than this," he pointed with his chin at Falyar.

They both cried out and jumped forward.

Lynxbright was not shining brightly in the night and Falyar suspected the sword did not find this fight very noble and honorable. Falyar didn't mind too much, they had their disagreements from time to time.

Sartivar heaved the flail and Falyar ducked down, the metal ball and chain made a whooshing sound when it passed above his head. Falyar tried to strike Sartivar's knee with the pommel but the monk shoved his sword down with the shield. Falyar felt a cold prickle of sweat on the back of his neck as he realized that Sartivar was very agile.

Falyar dodged the flail again but almost simultaneously, Sartivar swung his shield at Falyar's face. The flat surface smacked Falyar's forehead and he felt his head spin for a moment, one of his eyes was blinded by dripping blood from his eyebrow.

Falyar also came to the conclusion that his muscles are very tired since he already fought earlier in the day against the puppets. He couldn't hope to outlast and tire down Sartivar.

The rain was intense, and the ground was now completely muddy and soaked.

And then, Sartivar smiled wickedly, probably realizing he was winning. And in that smile, Falyar saw the downfall of Lynxarians. He saw Hewin slaving in the mine, his empty home without Vamika, his fear that she was taken into the monastery. He saw himself building the mill outside Varnutum to not bother the humans too much. He saw the poor woman tied to the tree. The man in front of him suddenly represented all this and a true reckless rage entered Falyar.

He shouted a throaty cry at Sartivar and hit his shield with such a force that the man needed to shake his hand a bit. Sartivar attacked with the flail again but Falyar managed to put Lynxbright in front of him and the chain wrapped around the blade. Falyar yanked and pulled. Sartivar managed to score a couple of hits with his shield into Falyar's face but Falyar pulled and pulled until he yanked the flail free from Sartivar's hand.

Sartivar's eyes went wide and he immediately rammed his shield into Falyar's hand. Falyar cried out in pain and dropped Lynxbright. They stood in front of each other, breathing deeply, both without weapons. Sartivar, still having at least his shield, tried to run forward and knock Falyar down with it. Falyar didn't manage to step aside in the muddy field and Sartivar ran into him. They both fell down. Sartivar took the shield in both hands and pushed it into Falyar's face to suffocate him in the mud. But Falyar extended his claws and swung wildly with his paws trying to cut Sartivar without seeing where his enemy was.

The pressure against Falyar's face receded. Falyar threw the shield aside and saw Sartivar gaping and holding his neck. Blood was pouring between his fingers. At that moment, Falyar knew that his claws have found his mark. Falyar stood up, took the muddied Lynxbright from the ground, and swung it once.

"I am sorry you had to see this," he said to the people gathered in front of the house as he went inside, feeling terrible and a bit like a mangled corpse as Sartivar had promised him.