POV: Veraniala Adventus

The summer breeze went through my hair as I watched from atop the mast of the ship, my head resting on one knee while the other leg dangled down the thick wooden beam. Down below my soldiers worked, polishing the deck of the Undead, preparing the sail and much more. Below us was nothing but forest and hills for what seemed like an unreasonable distance. And beyond this forest I saw Fort Kalrim, standing there, right in the maw of the royal dragon's skull. From a pocket on the inside of my coat, I took a magnifying glass with a handle and frame made of ancient pale wine red wood with a golden part connecting the grip and frame. The lens itself had this slightly greenish tint to it which somehow reminded me of the swamps in the far west of the continent.

I held it in front of my right eye and looked upon the fort's entrance. The old looking gate had been opened hours ago, a steady flow of soldiers still streaming out. When I spotted him I couldn't help but smile.

Towering a good half metre over almost everyone else there was the host of my late daughter. His name, Altair Oberon Lyrius. His dark hard leather armour shimmered slightly in the sun, at least the parts that weren't covered by his long, fur-lined dark green cloak did. The sides of his head were shaven nearly bald and the rest of his hair was tied into a long ponytail at the back of his head. Scarlet eyes were embedded into his skull and his light brown skin was glistening. On his belt, I could even spot the two black daggers that he had carried around since the first day I found him. Years ago I had asked the Riftwalker for any intel on him, years later the Riftwalker told me they would be fighting a garlmas somewhere in Titan's Palace. And the Riftwalker spoke true. Only a few days after I heard that I spotted him leaving the grove of the dryad overseeing Titan's Palace. I had followed him and watched as he fought against the creature. Then I watched him as he arrived at Titan's Footprint. I watched him as often as I could. I watched as he took over the town, I watched as he assassinated people, as he stole things and I watched as he got involved with Dion's organization, Pergament. I watched as he was thrown around by his subordinate, which was a moment in which I had nearly interfered only to be beaten to it by the paladin Rudolpho Alami. Then I had watched as he was shipped off to this fort. And I had watched as he forced himself to not murder everyone in that place every single day. Four years had passed and now was the first time in those four years he actually left the fort.

I watched as the small army, led by Lestul Rigarium and his sister Elsa Rigarium, someone I despised for being so close to the host of my daughter, go along the path I couldn't help but notice the group of people that had gathered around Altair. Four people in particular. I had seen them around a few times before, but they seemed to have changed during the past four years, to the point where they were notable powerhouses within this small army. There was the once slim and frail-looking black-haired boy with brown eyes who had grown into an athletic man. He was muscular now, his hair tied into a bun and wearing leather armour not too different to Altair's. Then there was that one boy that dressed in a dress. His hair was now waist-length and still as curly as ever, he had kind deep blue eyes and wore a sort of feminine mage robe. Then there was the moon elven girl. A sort of strange girl I had decided. She had long dark blue hair that sort of reminded me of seaweed, pale skin with a now strong dark blue tint, eyes the colour of the moon and two spikes extending from her shoulders as well as long ears that were round at the tip, like a typical moon elf, that's what she looked like. And then there was that girl. Curly blond hair that reached all the way to her shoulders, eyes the colour of silver and wearing a skin-tight full-body suit the same colour as the moon elven girl's hair as well as some hard leather armour. She annoyed me the most. I wished that my daughter's host would just kill that lust-filled wolf, but he had yet not done so, and I hoped it wasn't because he... reciprocated the feelings she quite clearly had developed for him.

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It took them a good two weeks of travel, during which they slept in the wilderness, in tents and some in carriages. I noticed that Altair would often sleep in the same carriage as Elsa Rigarium. I had seen the two of them together quite a lot, and it did seem like there was some reason behind it, since I could tell from Altair's expression afterwards that he does not like the time he spends with her or anyone that associates with the church for that matter. Every morning I would watch as he went away from the camp just to throw up. Deep down I hoped that he would soon stop this foolishness and would finally finish the business he had with whoever it was.

When they finally reached their goal I was happy, I would soon see him in a true fight, one where there was the chance he might lose his life, although I wouldn't let that happen. I wanted to see what he was capable of. One thing I had noted during his four years in this place was that he refused to use the Power of Wrath in large capacity. Although it did seem like he had learned full fine control of it, now being able to only use such a small part of it that no one would ever notice without the help of certain tools.

The small army camped behind a hill that was right in front of the headquarters of the Pergament branch they were after. After about three days it was finally the day they would attack. It was noon when the small army climbed the hill and announced their arrival by sounding a horn. I smiled as I saw the countless thorn tendrils burst forth from the ground, completely overwhelming the first wave of enemies.