1

The group woke up and packed up their camp. They made their way through the forest, which was in the northern part of Frostbite Woods. They were heading towards the ruins of Skullhorn.

“Did you figure out why that chant worked?” Flavia asked Egon.

“Not at all,” he shrugged. “If I had known it was that effective against those zombies, I would have used it much sooner. But this squarely contradicts the things that I was taught. Either the textbooks are wrong, or this is some new interesting type of undead.”

Flavia gave the human magic-user a stern look.

“Oh, come on, I’m not stupid enough to go back and investigate what it actually was; we don’t have the time or manpower for that,” Egon argued. “We have a much bigger problem on our hands—getting back to Mistfall in a timely manner. And, before anyone suggests using the Bloodstone’s beacon to get back to the village, I am officially declaring that we are not to set foot in that place; not without a small army, that is.”

“I might know a solution for that,” Onyeya suggested cautiously. “My mother knows a lot of magic, including Teleportation magic. She lives not too far from Skullhorn.”

“I didn’t know that about her. But will she decide to help us? After what happened between the tribe and—” Luftar gestured in the air.

“No-no, it should be fine,” Onyeya nodded quickly. “Are we going to get in trouble for making a hole in the castle wall?” she clearly wanted to quickly change the subject.

“Unlikely,” Flavia replied. “Technically, it is classified as destruction of the Sorcerer State’s property. But, based on my experience, if this was something valuable, there would have been actual guards around, and not the undead kind.”

“True,” Egon nodded. “To be honest, the State doesn’t really care about what happens in the Northlands. Which is unfortunate, because it has already bitten us in the rear several times.”

“What about all the undead we unleashed?” The catwoman continued with her concerns. “Wouldn’t it be bad for the people of nearby settlements?”

“Well, the tentacle creature looked very squashed last time I saw it,” Egon said confidently.

“And in the morning I checked if any undead followed us; I didn’t see a single zombie roaming outside the castle’s immediate vicinity,” Luftar added. “I understand that you’re worried, Onyeya, but I think we got this under control.”

The catwoman sighed in relief. They walked silently for a while. Flavia observed:

“This is my first time in the Northlands. Based on the reputation of this place, I expected everything here to try to kill us. But, apart from the pesky inhabitants of Bloodstone, this place feels so… peaceful. Primal, yet almost… soothing.”

“Primal indeed!” the human agreed. “To the point that I wonder if the grass here ever gets cut, ha-ha!”

“He-he,” Onyeya giggled. “I’m really glad to see all of you in good health. Does it hurt?” The Head Shaman touched the human’s stomach, where she saw the creature hit him with one of its tentacles yesterday.

“Not anymore, you did a wonderful job yesterday. You’re making me question my belief that one needs proper formal training to be a good Healer, my dear Onyeya,” Egon smiled at the catwoman.

She blushed slightly and smiled back at the man. Then she noticed Flavia’s curious gaze at her hand on the man’s stomach.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I was just checking, I didn’t mean to—” she quickly withdrew her hand. Flavia burst into laughter.

“I didn’t even say anything,” the elf said between her gasps, “and this is the reaction I got! Oh, that look on your face!” She moved closer to the catwoman and wrapped her arm around the catwoman’s neck. “You’re slowly, but surely becoming my new favorite person to tease,” Flavia rubbed her cheek against Onyeya’s face in a friendly way.

***

“Let’s make a stop somewhere here,” Egon suggested. “You lot are really good at this whole walking thing, aren’t you?”

“Called it!” Flavia exclaimed. “Told you your legs were in desperate need of some good old-fashioned stretching! Rest for now; I’ll cook something for us.”

The sun was almost at its zenith. They set up a temporary camp in the middle of the forest they had been walking through for the past few hours. Flavia was busy cooking with Onyeya helping her. Egon took off his boots and massaged his feet. He asked Luftar:

“How far are we from Skullhorn, mister Leader?”

The wolfman was staring blankly into the woods, seemingly not hearing the question.

“Uhm, it’s an hour, maybe two away,” Onyeya answered in Luftar’s stead.

The Leader flinched. He looked as if he was snapping out of a trance.

“Yes, it should take less than two hours,” he confirmed.

“You’ve been awfully quiet for the last couple of hours, my friend,” the human said with concern in his voice. “If something’s on your mind, you can share it with us.”

“It’s nothing, really—”

“I noticed it too,” Flavia handed Luftar a bowl of food. “We might not have seen you in a decade, but our history together still means at least something, doesn’t it? Come on, you can trust us.”

The wolfman nodded. Flavia continued handing out food to others. Everyone ate silently, letting the Battle-Mage gather his thoughts. When everyone finished their bowls, he finally spoke:

“Not too far from here is the place where I had a confrontation with Bran. Our last and… final one.”

Egon’s face tensed, Flavia looked shocked, and Onyeya was sorrowful, knowing what story was about to be told.

“I… hated the idea of him becoming my Companion—it was too dangerous. Battle-Mages are a common target for the enemy—on and off the battlefield. There was no realistic way I could protect him and, as the two of you know,” he nodded towards his old friends, “he was getting quite old, for a human. But he kept insisting and insisting. How could I say ‘no’ to the man who raised me and taught me everything I know?”

Luftar shook his head violently, as if he couldn’t believe it. He continued:

“We were so excited to go on our first mission. It was the first time we got to spend time together since I entered the Collegium. The mission was to explore a cave system near Mount Doomspire, because of some rumors that it had the first teleportation-gemstone inside. Don’t give me that look, I know it’s just an old fairy tale. But Bran really wanted to go.”

“Just the two of you?” Egon asked with an incredulous little smirk. He and Flavia looked at each other, silently wondering if they, as a pair, were brave enough to attempt such a feat.

“Yes,” Luftar sighed, “he said that this could be an opportunity for us to bond. Like father and son. And I ruined it all… I’ve ruined… It all…”

“What happened?” Flavia asked with a gentle and supportive tone.

“We traveled through the Monarchy without a hitch. Shared some drinks and stories in the taverns that we visited—I was the happiest I had been in a long time. But when we ventured into the Northlands, his mood changed for no apparent reason. He became grumpier and started to get angry at me. We reached this part of the Frostbite Woods that the four of us are currently in. And then we had an argument. He raised his hand at me and I—”

“Again?!” Egon exclaimed.

“Yes, but… Argh! Look, it was my fault,” the wolfman said on the verge of tears. “I got… lost in this forest in the evening. He was furious at me for it. I failed the task I was given and he had every right to complain. But when he tried to hit me, I just… snapped. I yelled at him and… even punched him in the face.”

“I say it serves him right,” Flavia interjected confidently. “You finally stood up to him for everything he put you through as a pup. But how in the world did you get lost here? Every tracking contest we took I got second place, losing only to you. And what I’m seeing here so far—I can easily navigate here, even seeing it for the first time.”

“Maybe you are right. But what happened after is the reason why I can’t forgive myself. We screamed at each other and the noise attracted some bandits that happened to be nearby. There were at least two dozen of them and they attacked us from the shadows. We fought fiercely, but there were too many. We retreated, but a rock to the back of my head knocked me out unconscious.”

“Good heavens,” Egon whispered.

“When I woke up I was in Onyeya’s hut. She and her mother tended to me,” he looked at the catwoman, as tears started streaming down his face. “I snuck out later that night. But all I found were some charred bodies. One of them had this,” he took a partially melted silver ring out of one of his pockets with a lily flower on it. “It was Bran’s. But I wasn’t strong enough to save him.”

He burst into tears.

“He died protecting me. I failed as his step-son. In the last two weeks I’ve failed as a Leader. I am so, so scared of losing any of you—I-I must not fail as a friend!” Luftar gasped for air.

Onyeya got up and hugged him. Egon and Flavia silently looked at each other with unease. The elf pointed at their crying friend. The human nodded. They both got up and joined the big embrace.

2

The squad of four emerged from the forest and beheld the charred ruins of the village. The scene was more horrific than they had imagined. Even in its devastated state, one could still tell that Skullhorn was built with love: every house had a front garden; the streets formed a neat grid, indicating that this was meant to be a small town someday, not just another village; and the fact that most walls remained upright showed that the wood was of high quality.

Egon and Flavia were relatively calm—they empathized with the beastfolk’s pain, but they had witnessed worse sights than this. Luftar’s recent outpouring of tears, along with his friends’ support, helped him to be more composed, as he gazed at what was left of his tribe’s hard work. Onyeya suffered the most—her ruthless prioritization of helping others over herself was taking a huge toll. Her eyes welled up and her lips quivered uncontrollably.

After surveying the ruins, everyone quietly headed towards the village, except for the Head Shaman. The elf approached the catwoman and grasped her by the shoulders. She spun Onyeya around to face her away from Skullhorn. Flavia called out:

“Hey boys, you go ahead, we’ll catch up with you soon.”

Luftar and Egon glanced back at the girls, then exchanged a nod and proceeded silently towards their destination.

“There, there,” Flavia hugged Onyeya and whispered in her ear. “Keeping so much pain inside only works for so long. Let it out.”

Heartache stabbed both males, as they heard the catwoman’s sobbing behind them.

“It’s alright,” the elf stroked the catwoman’s head. “I’m here for you. I can only imagine how hard these past weeks have been.”

Onyeya began to calm down after a few minutes. She said, while wiping her tear-stained eyes with the sleeves of her clothes:

“Thank you for making sure I won’t lose face in front of Luftar. And Egon too. I have no right to do that.”

“What are you talking about?” Flavia’s voice was full of kindness. “There’s nothing wrong with showing your friends how you feel inside. Sure, that Leader of yours can be quite dense when it comes to these things, but it’s obvious how much he cares about you.”

“I know, but I have to be strong for him. Maybe then he’ll see me as more than just the Head Shaman. He’s also dealing with so many problems, and I would hate to be one of them. Being a burden is the worst feeling in the world.”

“…my sweet child,” the elf gently smoothed the catwoman’s tangled hair, “You don’t have to be so hard on yourself. Trust me, you are doing more than enough.”

“I want to be like you, Flavia. I don’t want to cry. Ever.”

“Wow, how did you come to that conclusion? You think I’m incapable of shedding tears?”

“Egon said that he doesn’t remember the last time you cried, back when we were in the castle. I was very surprised by what he said. But that night I decided that I won’t cry in front of Luftar anymore. And I almost failed today.”

Flavia looked sideways at the ground, pondering what she heard. Then she smiled and looked Onyeya in the eyes, saying:

“And here I am—not practicing what I preach. Let’s learn how to be more open together, okay? Now let’s go see what our men are up to.”

***

“Sorry for doubting you,” Egon told Luftar, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have never seen so many traces of fire magic in one place.”

The Circle Wizard sat cross-legged on the crossroads in the middle of Skullhorn. He faced a large building that had been a town hall.

“I don’t blame you,” the Battle-Mage replied. He stood behind the human with his arms crossed. “It all happened within a couple of minutes… Any clues about the culprits?”

“Oof. It’s extremely confusing. The traces feel like they were all left by spells from… the same person?.. But it’s hard to imagine someone with this amount of mana. And where would you even hide? If it’s someone from the Monarchy or the Empire—Discoverers would have already found you and brought you to the Sorcerer State. And the chances of this being someone from the beastfolk are…”

“…effectively zero,” Luftar finished the sentence. He reached out his arm to Egon, helping him stand up. “Apart from Onyeya, we have three other Shamans; but their mana pools are much smaller than hers. And the fact that we have the lowest number of magic-users among the three races still stands.”

“Right… But you can sense this too, yes? The way the spells were cast feels… sloppy.”

“Yes, but I’m not very good at reading traces.”

“Well, neither am I, unfortunately. But I can’t quite put my finger on it. This kind of sloppiness reminds me of magic-users who are just starting out—someone with very little practical training. Yet, I’m beyond amazed by the amount of mana used, which should have taken ages to develop!”

“Huh.”

“It’s all very strange… Tell me something else, Luftar. How many people survived?”

“…Roughly one out of four.”

“That’s horrific. My sincere condolences. That being said, I don’t see any bodies lying outside; have you taken care of them already?”

“We did. Once the fire subsided a bit, we came back and picked up anyone we found—dead or alive. The ones who didn’t make it were buried near the Frostbite Woods. Actually, we lost most of the people to hunger during the two weeks it took us to get to Mistfall. There might still be bodies under the rubble.”

“Should we get them out and give them proper funerals?”

“Yes, I would like to do that… eventually. But that’s too much work for the four of us.”

They stood in silence for a long minute.

“It seems to me that the fire started from where we came from,” Egon pointed to the forest they had traversed earlier. He saw Flavia and Onyeya walking towards them. “Do you recognize any of the people that left the other traces? Like, those ones from your Head Shaman’s healing spells.”

“Definitely. Here’s me trying to hold the town hall from collapsing. There are the other Shamans trying to use water magic to put out the fires, but it was too powerful. But the one I can’t recognize is who left the trace that we’re standing next to. I have no idea who used teleportation in this spot.”

“That bothered me too since we got here. I’d bet it’s one of the culprits, otherwise how would they have attacked and then escaped undetected. And it’s almost right where the fire spells end. Sigh. I wish I could give you more answers. One thing I know for sure is that we need to head back to Mistfall, because taking these magic-users head-on is pure suicide.”

“You are right,” Luftar sighed. He raised his eyes and saw Onyeya and Flavia, who were almost near them.

“Found anything?” the elf asked.

“Enough for now,” Egon said. “It looks like whoever committed this atrocity used teleportation to avoid the watch, so—”

Onyeya’s staff fell to the ground with a loud clang. Everyone looked at her. She was staring at the trace left by the teleportation with a look of utter disbelief on her face. She whispered loudly:

“…Mother…”

***

The catwoman lay on the elf’s lap, with her back to the wolfman and the human. The news that her mother was somehow involved in her tribe’s home being destroyed shattered what was left of her mental wellbeing. They sat on a small hill, overlooking the ruins of Skullhorn. Onyeya clutched Flavia’s hand. The “maid” asked:

“Maybe that trace was from a different time? Before or after the fire magic was cast?”

“It was as faint as all the other ones—that’s all I can say for sure,” Egon mused. “In my defense, I’m an Outer Circle Mage—I rarely deal with magic-users. But now we have a dilemma on our hands. We’ll need Onyeya’s mother’s help—Come to think of it, I never actually asked. What’s her name?”

“Argenya,” Luftar said. “She’s the former Head Shaman. You see, our history with her is very… convoluted. She was against me becoming the tribe’s Leader. So she gave an ultimatum: if I was chosen, then she would leave. You can guess what happened next. But what she didn’t expect was for her daughter to stay by my and the tribe’s side.”

“Wow, and here I thought the politics of the Three Countries were exhausting. Anyway, even though Argenya is involved in the destruction of—”

Upon hearing this, Onyeya shrugged violently.

“…even though Argenya is possibly somehow related to what happened with,” Egon gestured toward the village below, “it seems she’s still our best chance of getting back to Mistfall quickly.”

“Can I ask a stupid question?” the elf raised her hand.

“Flavia, there’s no such thing as a stupid question,” Egon said confidently. “Let’s hear it.”

“What’s preventing you from teleporting all of us back to the guard tower?”

“No direct line of sight to the teleportation-gemstone,” Egon explained.

“And we need that, because?”

“Because they act as a kind of… anchor,” Luftar wondered. “If I remember the lectures correctly.”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“That’s right,” Egon agreed. “The teleportation-gemstone sets a fixed point in space. And you need that because of the fact that our planet is rotating, while also orbiting the sun and all that. Without them, you could end up either high in the air or smashed into the ground. If you ever want a somewhat silly but also very gruesome read, try ‘The Early History of Teleportation’.”

“Wonderful,” the elf remarked. “You mentioned at some point that teleportation without line of sight is possible, right?”

“Well, I read reports about it, true. But it took them days or even weeks of calculations,” the Circle Mage continued his exposition. “Long story short, we need either an elevated point nearby—and since the land is very flat here, our only option is the tower in Bloodstone, which we are not going back to—or someone who can teleport people at will.”

“And that’s Argenya,” Flavia concluded. “But if we have to wait for her to do the calculations, not to mention that she might be involved with some dangerous people, why not travel on foot?”

“There’s no wait,” Onyeya spoke for the first time. She sat upright, letting go of the elf’s hand. “I saw her do it once. She traveled to another tribe to get some medicine and came back in under an hour. I don’t remember the details, I was very young back then.”

“Fascinating,” Egon sounded impressed. “You and your family are full of curious mysteries! Well, since the Leader and the Head Shaman are not on good terms with Argenya,” the human stood up, “I’ll do the talking.”

“She… doesn’t like humans,” Onyeya said with a melancholic tone.

“No problem at all,” Flavia also stood up, “trust me, I can be irresistibly charming when it’s needed!”

“…and she hates elves,” the catwoman bit her lip.

The human and his Companion looked at the wolfman.

“Don’t worry,” Luftar stood up and reached out to Onyeya, to help her stand up, “As the Leader, it is my sole duty, to—”

“I’ll do it,” the Head Shaman said, standing up by herself.

“But you haven’t spoken to her for… at least eight years?” the Leader raised his concern.

“Yes…”

3

To save time, the group headed towards Argenya’s house in the woods, while discussing the best course of action. They decided that Onyeya would approach alone, while the others would hide and come to her aid if needed. This might not have been the best plan, but it was simple enough to be somewhat fool-proof.

The house was a fairly large one-story wooden building, which could easily house two or three families. It was right outside the forest that the group had traveled through earlier that day. Argenya was sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch, reading a book. She had long light-gray hair and wore a simple black dress, which covered her from neck to toe. The wrinkles on her face suggested that she was getting old, but there was a good deal of grace in the way she looked.

Oneya left the tree line and walked toward the porch. Her stride was hesitant at first, but with each step her movements became bolder. Argenya slowly turned her head towards the visitor, still looking at the page. When she finally saw who was coming to her, she jumped to her feet involuntarily. The open book fell on the wooden floor with the pages down, wrinkling them. Her face showed relief for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure.

“Hello, Mother,” Onyeya tried to keep her tone neutral, “would you be willing to help me?”

The Head Shaman stopped a few steps away from the porch. The other three were hiding in the shadows of the evening forest, ready to help at any moment. Argenya, without saying a word, left the porch and approached her daughter. She circled around her, examining her from head to toe. She stopped in front of her and finally spoke:

“Good evening, Onyeya. It depends on what you want me to do.”

“I need to be teleported to the other side of Frostbite Woods.”

“You need to be much more specific, my dear daughter,” the mother said in a stern tone.

“I need to reach a village called Mistfall.”

Argenya squinted, giving a sneering look. She asked:

“Is that village located in… the human lands?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“You haven’t changed a bit, still meddling with all the other races,” she hissed through her teeth. Then she suddenly smiled widely and said: “I will help you with that…”

Onyeya sighed in relief and said:

“Thank you, I—”

“…is what I would have said, if I had the necessary components. But acquiring them requires traversing a very dangerous part of the Frostbite Woods. I am too old for that, and you are not skilled enough. Now, come into the house—”

The daughter’s face turned angry, as she said:

“I may be weak by myself, but it’s my friends who make me strong!”

“Oh, is that so,” Argenya said with a sarcastic smile, “and where exactly are these so-called friends? Somewhere in the Northlands? Or in that village where you want to be teleported to? Or, most likely, only in your imagination?!”

“They are here!” Onyeya raised her voice as she pointed to the approximate location where the other three were hiding. She immediately regretted what she did, but it was too late. The former Head Shaman’s face became wary. She slowly enunciated every word:

“You were never good at lying, so that means… Have you been captured and now are being used to bait me? Is this an ambush?!”

A fireball appeared in each of her palms, as she looked into the trees behind Onyeya’s back.

“No, Mother, it’s not like that—”

“Show yourselves!”

Egon slowly emerged from the treeline with his arms in the air, and his palms facing the two catwomen, showing that he was not a threat.

“A human… in mage armor!” Argenya was angry. “Onyeya, have you been recruited by the blasted Sorcerer State?!”

“Please, madam Argenya, hear us out—” Egon tried reasoning.

“Do not come any closer, or you will regret it!” she combined both fireballs into a single big one and pointed it at the Circle Mage.

“I assure you, we mean no harm,” Luftar came out in the same pose as the human. “And we can help with gathering the resources—”

“Luftar! You dare show your face here?!” Argenya was fuming. The fireball grew bigger.

“Mother, I beg of you, please stop!”

Flavia was the last to exit, but she didn’t follow suit with the men. She was brandishing her twin daggers in her hands. Her face was perfectly calm, as she said in a serene voice:

“If any harm is done to this human, I will make sure you’ll regret it.”

“An elf! Onyeya, are you out of your mind—”

A sharp clap rang out loud. Flavia slowly lowered her weapons, Egon and Luftar cautiously looked at each other, and the fireball was dispelled. Everyone was in utter shock. Onyeya’s face was stern. Her hand was in midair, which she used a moment ago to slap Argenya on the cheek.

“I am sorry, Mother. But I will not let you hurt them.”

The older catwoman touched her cheek, which had a red outline of her daughter’s palm on it. But she didn’t look angry anymore, or even hurt. She looked relieved, as she calmly said:

“Finally, you found the courage to stand up to someone. Fine. I’ll explain what components I need for the teleportation ritual to work. Come into the house,” she looked over Onyeya’s shoulder at the other three people. “All of you.”

***

It was past sunset when a group of five people ventured deeper into the forest. The autumn air was cold and the sounds around them changed from day birds to night birds. A couple of hours earlier, the former Head Shaman had explained what they were looking for: a five-petaled deep violet-blue flower called “bluemoon”. It grows in a specific part of the Frostbite Woods, which the previous generations believed to be home to some wild and dangerous creatures—it was said that very few ever returned from there.

Luftar was leading the group with Argenya and Onyeya close behind him. All three were quiet, but the tension of unspoken words slowly built up around them. Flavia gestured to Egon to slow down, which he did. When they were far enough from earshot, the elf asked:

“The Northlands are full of surprises, aren’t they, milord?”

“Undeniably. New forms of undead, new forms of teleportation, and new quite powerful magic-users, who have not sworn the Wizard’s Oath. Yet.”

“I’m glad we’re still on the same page. Imagine what bringing all three of them to the State would do to our reputation.”

“Mmhm. But we’re a bit outnumbered here. And I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you,” he gently ran his index finger along Flavia’s cheek.

“Don’t worry about me,” she smiled at him. “But you’re right. Onyeya’s heart is in the right place, but she’s also unpredictable. And Argenya…”

“…still might be somehow involved with what happened in Skullhorn. But first things first: we need to get back to Mistfall as soon as possible. We’ve been gone for too long and I’m starting to have a bad feeling about all of this.”

“Ha, let’s hope it’s just a bit of healthy paranoia and nothing more. Let’s catch up with the rest before they suspect anything about us.”

She grabbed his hand, briskly quickening her stride.

***

Several light orbs floated around the group, casting a warm amber glow on the nearby trees.

“We’ve been walking through this forest for hours,” Luftar lamented, “and still no sign of any bluemoon flowers.”

“Impatience. Typical of beastfolk raised by humans,” Argenya sneered.

“Honestly, I was wondering the same thing. It’s getting colder,” Flavia commented pensively.

“Don’t talk back to me, elf!” The gray-haired catwoman snapped.

“I wasn’t! Look, I don’t want to antagonize you—”

“Your kind has done enough to make me hostile for the rest of time!”

“Mother, please…”

“You think I’ve forgotten how elves treated my ancestors?” Argenya jabbed her index finger at Flavia’s face. “How they used to cage them and display them in zoos? How they kept them as mere… pets?!”

“I’m really sorry to hear that,” Flavia tried to calm her down.

“You think your ‘sorry’ will fix anything?! Onyeya, if your late father knew about the people you’re ‘friends’ with, he would be utterly disappointed and—”

“Enough!” the white-haired catwoman’s voice broke. “Let’s just find these stupid flowers and leave you alone with your stubborn views on the past, dear Mother!”

She stormed off into the forest.

“Wait!” Egon called after her. “Add some light orbs in front—”

“Aah!” her short scream pierced the night, as she fell into a hole.

“Onyeya!” Luftar ran after her.

“Darling!” Argenya followed him.

4

Onyeya landed on a cold metal floor.

“Sweetie, are you hurt?!” her mother shouted from above. All the dissatisfaction in her voice vanished, leaving only concern.

“Ow,” the daughter felt her ankle twist from the fall. “I’m… fine!”

“Onyeya! We’ll get you out of there, stay put!” Luftar’s voice came from the same direction.

The Head Shaman created a light orb above her. As she looked around, she realized she was sitting on the floor of an old rusty cage. Above her was a vertical shaft about three times her height. The cage was surrounded by three walls and a short corridor, all of which were dug into the ground and reinforced with wooden beams. There was a door in the cage with a big lock on it. There was no way to escape, unless she could somehow jump high enough. When she examined her surroundings more closely, she gasped sharply.

“What is it?” the wolfman and the older catwoman asked in unison.

“There’s a skeleton here… It’s… a beastman!”

The set of bones next to her belonged to a single individual. They were completely dry, with gnaw marks from rats’ teeth. She unexpectedly heard footsteps in the back of the room. Each step was accompanied by the creak of a wooden staircase.

“Who’s there?” Onyeya asked in fear.

“The rescue party,” Flavia answered loudly. She appeared soon after in the corridor, with Egon controlling a light orb behind her. The elf reached the trapped girl and yelled into the shaft: “Luftar! Get down here and help us open the cage. There’s a hatch a few steps from where you’re standing in that direction.”

***

Luftar and Argenya came down a few minutes later. The wooden stairs led to an underground room with three makeshift beds and some wooden crates. Corridors of different lengths branched out from the room in all directions, and each one ended with a metal cage. Cobwebs and a thick layer of dust showed that this place was long abandoned.

The lock on Onyeya’s cage was so rusty that it took no effort for the wolfman to break it with his sword. He carried her to one of the worn-out mattresses and laid her on it. The former Head Shaman sat next to her and began healing her daughter’s ankle with a spell.

“Mother, I can heal it myself,” the injured said.

“I know, I know,” the mother’s tone was gentle. “I have to admit that your healing skills are better than mine. But I don’t want you to use up your mana now, you’ll need it for the teleportation ritual later.”

“Wait… Onyeya is going to do it, and not you?” Egon asked as he walked around, examining the walls and cages.

“Yes, because I don’t want pesky outsiders to learn any of our secrets,” Argenya snapped, giving him a stern look. She turned her gaze to the elf and asked: “How did you know how to get into this place?”

“I just guessed it was a bandit-burrow,” Flavia shrugged. She was busy searching the crates. “My former colleagues told me about this kind of place. It’s usually used as a stash or a hideout.”

“Your former colleagues?” Argenya frowned at the elf. “Are you implying you were a criminal?”

“I’m not particularly proud of that part of my past. But hey, at least it taught me how to enter this place without wasting anyone’s precious mana.”

“You see, my daughter, elves—” the mother started lecturing, as she looked back at Onyeya. But the only thing she saw in her offspring’s eyes was admiration and a hint of envy towards the orange-haired young woman. Argenya decided not to finish what she was going to say.

***

Luftar was outside, burying the remains of the fellow beastfolk. In the other cages, they found three other victims, all roughly in the same state.

“Well, this explains why few returned from this neck of the woods,” Egon concluded, after investigating everything. “It looks like someone was capturing beastfolk. Hard to tell what for. Slavery was universally abolished after the Great War, but this place has clearly been occupied not that long ago. Hmm. Onyeya!”

“Yes?” she replied, while still being healed.

“Where’s the spot where you found Luftar unconscious all those years ago?”

“Umm… close, I guess? Why? Wait, are you saying that the bandits hid here?”

“I don’t know,” Egon had his arms crossed on his chest. “But I don’t have a better explanation of what they were doing in the middle of nowhere.”

“There we go,” Argenya finished healing her daughter. Onyeya tried moving her foot and succeeded. She nodded at her mother.

“Good, we’re all set,” Egon cheered. “No time to waste, let’s go look for the bluemoon. Flavia, please wrap up your archaeological endeavors.”

“Wait, give me a sec,” the elf groaned, as she pushed her whole right arm between two beams. “I think I found a hidden stash… Argh! Almost… there!”

She pulled out a very dirty and wrinkled leather pouch, about the size of her fist. She put it next to her ear and shook it—something jiggled inside.

“Could it be?!” Flavia opened it eagerly, “Success! Silver coins! Hey, milord, do you think this’ll be enough to rent a house on the coast when we’re back in the State?”

The two catwomen were making his way up the stairs.

“You think that silver will help?” Egon smirked. “Either of our salaries is enough!”

“Oh, come on, where’s the fun in that?” the elf said playfully. As she approached the human, she looked closely inside the pouch and asked: “Hm? What’s this?”

She pulled out a tarnished silver ring from the pouch and examined it. The Circle Mage positioned one of the light orbs right above Flavia’s hands and they both looked closely at the knick-knack.

“What’s taking you two so long?” Raufas called from outside, peering into the open hatch. “Wait! Is that—”

The wolfman dashed down the stairs and snatched the ring from the elf’s hand, who didn’t resist. He hurriedly reached into his pocket and took out the melted ring. He placed it next to the tarnished ring and all three of them looked closely. Both rings had the same engraving—a lily flower. There was no doubt that the rings matched.

“Where did you find it?” Luftar mumbled under his breath.

“Between the beams…” Flavia replied, glancing into the pouch. “Hold your hands like this,” she gestured to the wolfman to cup his hands.

She dumped the contents of the pouch onto Luftar’s palms. There were about two dozen silver coins, three tiny rubies and five other rings. Each ring was identical to the one she had found earlier. The Leader was baffled.

“What does this mean?” he asked the other two.

“No idea; but I promise I’ll help you figure it out,” Egon said.

5

They reached a meadow where the bluemoon was growing when the moon was high in the cloudless sky. The plant looked plain at first, until Argenya told everyone to “turn off” the light orbs. The saucer-shaped flowers glowed in the moonlight. The light-blue luster was stunning and surreal. Argenya said to the group:

“I need to talk to Onyeya. Wait for us here.”

She and her daughter went to the far side of the meadow and started talking. Luftar walked a few steps back into the forest and sat on the ground. The elf and the human were left alone.

Flavia held Egon’s hand and intertwined their fingers. She admired the view, while he admired her. The iridescence from the meadow that reflected in her orange eyes was captivating. She saw him gazing at her and smiled back. He leaned in to her. Their lips met in the most quiet and gentle kiss imaginable.

***

Luftar was looking at his palm, where all six tarnished silver rings and one melted one were lying. It was decided that he would keep all of the rings, while Flavia kept all the coins and rubies. He tried to come up with an explanation, but his brain was treacherously blank. The past three weeks felt like a blur. He heard Egon and Argenya’s voices from the meadow. He got up and joined them.

“Are you sure you don’t need our help to get back to your home?” Egon asked cautiously.

“I’m certain. There’s nothing in these woods that I can’t handle,” Argenya said firmly.

“But you said that you were… ahem, ‘too old’?” the human asked for clarification.

The silver-haired catwoman smirked and said:

“Only a naive person believes everything someone says.”

“Are you sure you don’t need our help to get back to your home?” Egon asked cautiously.

“I am certain. There is nothing in these woods that I can’t handle,” Argenya said firmly.

“But you said that you’re… ahem, ‘too old’?” the human decided to clarify.

The silver-haired catwoman smirked and said:

“Only a naive person believes every single thing someone says.”

“So what do we need to do?” Flavia inquired.

“Collect the petals. We’ll need about a hundred.”

“Let’s get to it,” the elf said to the human.

Luftar approached Onyeya, who was staring blankly at the glowing meadow. He whispered:

“How are you?”

She slowly looked at him and replied:

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Is something bothering you?”

“It’s just—It’s nothing. Really nothing. How about you?”

“Me… I’m just confused. You know, so many things have happened—What is your mother doing?”

Argenya was flattening a small circle at the edge of the clearing with her feet. Egon and Flavia came to her with their hands full of petals. The former Head Shaman pointed at the ground and said something. The human and the elf began to arrange the petals in a pattern on the flattened grass.

“She’s preparing the ritual,” Onyeya observed. “Let’s join them.”

After a short time the pattern was complete on the ground.

“My sweet and lovely heavens,” Egon was in awe.

“That’s the outline of the Frostbite Woods, isn’t it?” Flavia asked.

“You are observant. It is,” the older catwoman nodded.

“And that’s all there is to it?” the Circle Mage was still skeptical.

“Almost,” Argenya took off two earrings from her ears and placed them on the ground: one inside the pattern and the other outside.

“Hmm, that’s where we are,” Luftar pointed at the earring inside the shape, “and that’s where we need to go?” he pointed at the other one.

Argenya nodded. Egon couldn’t help himself, so he asked:

“What’s so special about these earrings?”

“Questions, questions! Human magic-users are such a nuisance. They have angel-stones in them.”

“Excuse me? ‘Angel-stones’?” Egon examined the gems. “I’m pretty sure those are white sapphires, judging by how milky they are. They’re rare, yes, but—”

Flavia gently punched him in the shoulder.

“Can we start the ritual, please?” she suggested.

***

The four stood in a circle around the bluemoon flowers on the ground, holding hands. Onyeya held Luftar with her right hand, he held Flavia, the elf held Egon, who held the younger catwoman, completing the circle.

“Remember what I told you, Onyeya,” Argenya said from a distance. “Clear your mind of all thoughts and worries. Focus on the location where you want to go. Let yourself and your… friends be transported there.”

Onyeya squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could; Luftar was lost in his own thoughts; Flavia yawned—she barely got any sleep last night; Egon looked like he was about to ask lots of questions again. The elf squeezed his hand and whispered:

“No.”

He looked back at her, sighed and nodded. A minute passed. Then two. Then five. Nothing was happening.

“Uhm,” Egon asked softly, “is something wrong or—”

“Mother,” Onyeya opened her eyes and said with a clear voice full of determination. “There is something I need to know. Did you help those who burned Skullhorn down?”

Egon’s and Flavia’s eyes widened in sync.

“Wh—What?” Argenya was taken aback by the question.

“In the village ruins I saw traces of a teleportation spell. You were the one who cast it. Mother, please, I need to know the truth.”

Silence fell. It seemed as if even the night creatures of the forest quieted their songs.

“Onyeya…” the silver-haired catwoman’s lips curled downward. “So… all this time we spent together today… you thought that I…”

Egon gulped. Flavia looked around, searching for a way to retreat. Luftar snapped back to reality and realized the gravity of the situation. The mother continued, as a single tear rolled down her cheek:

“My sweet child! You misunderstood! The next morning after the fire I saw smoke rising from the village. I ran there as fast as I could. But everyone was already gone. I tried looking for you, but then I saw them, so I had to teleport away.”

Onyeya’s grip on the two men’s hands loosened. She was softly gasping for air. She looked intently at her mother.

“You are more precious to me than anyone in the world,” Argenya smiled weakly at her daughter, even though her tearful eyes clearly showed how heartbroken she was. “I would never do anything that would hurt you. I know I was too harsh with how I raised you. But I didn’t know any other way. Such a talented and accepting child never deserved such a failure of a mother. I… I even have no right to be offended by your suspicion.”

Onyeya’s knees gave out, as she collapsed to the ground.

“Mama! Mama, I’m sorry!” Onyeya screamed at the top of her lungs.

A faint flash of light appeared under the four. Egon looked down quickly. The flowers were glowing brighter, even though the moon’s light didn’t change; the earring, which indicated their position, vanished into thin air. Onyeya’s face was wet with tears.

“Luftar!” the mother called out to the wolfman, “No… Leader Luftar! You have always taken such good care of my daughter. Please keep doing so!”

“I—Of course, I—” the wolfman was speechless.

“MOMMY!!” Onyeya’s cry turned into a roar, as she tried to bolt towards her smiling, yet crying mother. The two men held her back. The movement endangered the position of the petals—it was impossible to tell what would happen if the pattern changed in the middle of the ritual. As the Head Shaman struggled to get out of the men’s grip, the second earring disappeared. The air around them started swirling violently, as Argenya’s voice faded as if it grew distant:

“I love you, Onyeya. Stay safe. And please try to forgive me.”

The deep violet-blue petals flashed with a bright cyan light and then disappeared, along with the four people holding hands. Of all the sources of light, only the moon remained, enveloping the lone catwoman, standing in the midst of the meadow.

***

A bright cyan flash lit up the trees at the edge of Frostbite Woods. Four figures materialized out of thin air. Three stood upright, while the fourth knelt on the ground—Onyeya was still sobbing. They looked around. It was dark, but they saw the outline of Mistfall about a ten minute walk away. Egon released the catwoman’s hand and looked at Flavia. The human and the elf hugged each other, relieved to see that they were both unharmed.

“Onyeya, I’m sorry about what happened,” the Leader tried to console her. He knelt beside her and attempted to wipe her tears. She suddenly sprang up and clung to his neck.

“Please, Luftar, take me back to mama! I have so much to tell her! I can’t leave her alone!” she cried into his chest.

“I… can’t, I’m sorry,” he hugged her back. “It’s too dangerous.”

“There!” Flavia suddenly pointed to the village. Egon peered into the night and saw a faint light flicker, as if from a large candle.

“Is that a—” the human said in disbelief.

“I smell smoke!” the wolfman announced.

Egon inhaled sharply and angrily, as he and Flavia ran towards the village.