Faelan met with Aaron and Talvar the next day in the guildmaster's office.

"The Brotherhood of Ashes has decided to take the Mark. My son will personally take the task. Now, let's discuss payment."

Aaron nodded. He pulled a wooden box—the one that Faelan had seen the day before—out of his bag.

As Aaron opened it, Faelan peered inside.

Two sheathed daggers, silver cuffs, and four money pouches were neatly placed in the box.

"The daggers, cuffs and one hundred gold pieces are for upfront payment. The other three hundred are afterwards." Aaron said as he handed the daggers to Talvar.

As Talvar unsheathed one of them, there was a hum from the cuffs.

"These cuffs are linked to the daggers. If you wear the cuffs, you can summon the blades with a thought and a flick of the wrist. It is ancient Elven magic, and the blades are made of Dwarven steel."

Talvar handed the unsheathed dagger to Faelan.

The steel had a dark tone and an unnatural sheen—then Faelan noticed the inscription.

"Aúyn... What does that mean?"

Aaron smiled. "It's Dwarfish for Dawn. The other blade is called Skótos, which means Dusk. The dwarves are known for naming their creations."

He handed the cuffs to Faelan. "Here, try them on."

On the inside of the cuffs were the same inscriptions as on the blades. He placed the one with Dawn on his left wrist and the Dusk on his right.

With a flick wrist of his wrist, he imagined the dagger in his hand—the air shimmered as the blade disappeared from its sheath and reappeared in Faelan's hand with a short flash of light.

As he repeated the motion, the dagger returned to the sheath.

"Huh, neat," he remarked as he added the dagger sheaths to his belt.

Aaron faced Faelan. "When will you depart? It is a long journey to Civ'Argenti."

"I'll leave at the end of this week. There are still some preparations I have to make. I'll have to set out a route, prepare rations and other supplies, and prepare a plan. I would appreciate it—if you could give me all the details about the palace and the surrounding city you know. Are you still capable of writing?"

Aaron nodded.

"Very well. The shades I have assigned to you will keep watch and report to us if something is amiss or if you have noted everything down. If this is alright with you, of course."

"I appreciate the care. I'll note down everything I can remember, though I can not guarantee it is accurate. It has been a long time."

"That's fine. Any information is more than I have now."

After they finished the conversation with some trivial talk, they said their goodbyes and left.

Faelan immediately went to the library to study the history of Grenn.

If he found a passage in a book he wanted to study further, he had one of the librarians transcribe it.

===================

As the end of the week came around, Faelan was ready to leave.

Most of his friends came to see him off.

He was ready to set off with his saddlebags filled with supplies, a short sword strapped to his back, and multiple knives on his belt and tunic.

"Brother, wait!" Artemis's voice sounded over the keep's square.

She was waving with a book in one hand, and in the other, she had a small pouch.

As she ran over, Faelan got off his horse.

"You almost forgot these—Minerva just finished making them." She said as she handed him the pouch.

Faelan smiled as he took it. "Right, what would I do without you, sister? What's the book for?"

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The book was bound with black leather, with faded, silver letters on the front spelling out the title: The Veil, by Pelgrin Arach.

"It's a book about the Veil. The author of this book was known as one of the most potent Weavers in known history. I thought it could help you understand the Veil and Weaves more. There are also some interesting things about Astral Projection and Dream walking in there."

Faelan smile grew wider as he placed the book in his saddlebag. When he turned around again, Artemis flung her arms around him, pulling him in for a hug.

"Please come back safe. I don't want to lose you..."

Faelan pulled his sister a bit closer. "Of course, Artemis. I will always come back. I'll try to send a raven when I arrive."

He gave a quick nod to his father as he got back on the horse, waved, and set off.

===================

The wind swept over the snow-covered hills as Faelan followed the road, his cloak tightly tucked around him to somewhat protect him from the cold. Dark clouds covered the sky, and thunder could be heard in the far distance.

"Of course." He muttered. "Just my luck."

Carefully, he scanned his surroundings, looking for possible places of shelter.

Seeing nothing, he sighed, took his map out of his saddlebag, and studied it for a minute.

Half a day on foot till the next tavern. I should be able to make it by nightfall on horseback. He reasoned.

Then, I should be able to reach the Elven border by tomorrow evening.

As he put the map back in his saddlebag, his hand brushed past the book Artemis had given him.

A chill ran down his spine, goosebumps on his arms.

Leaning forward, he whispered something in his horse's ear, took out the book and opened it.

The caption read: The Veil, a study by Pelgrin Arach, Weaver Excellente Magne.

Skimming through the pages, Faelan's attention was drawn to a section about looking into the Veil.

"My studies have shown that certain people are born with the ability to see the very fabric of reality itself, or what we have been calling the Veil. From what I've been able to gather, is that most Fae-born creatures possess this ability, though not all of them. It is also not limited to their species alone. I have found various records of humans and dwarves possessing this sight. So far, my studies have shown that the only species not capable of this possessing ability is that of the elves."

Interesting, Faelan thought.

While skimming through the book, a gust of wind rushed over the plains, flipping some pages, and stopping at another chapter.

Threads of Fate, the chapter title read.

"The Threads of Fate are what bind all living things together. Unlike the threads of Teyun that make up the Veil, these threads go unnoticed by Seers—as they lay beyond it. We only know of these Threads because of our rigorous study of Astral Projection, in combination with peering into the Veil to see through it. This, however, is a dangerous and potentially lethal practice of which we still do not know the limits. We sti–"

Faelan slammed the book shut as his ear twitched.

Carefully, he placed the book back in his saddlebag, tapped his horse on the flank twice, and got off.

Slowly, he drew his short sword from his back.

"Who goes there? Reveal yourself!"

An arrow flew from the nearby bushes, but Faelan knocked it aside with the flat of his blade.

Faelan smirked.

"That's the best you could do? You could have wasted several good opportunities to shoot me—when I was reading, dismounting from my horse, or even when I was drawing my sword. But I suppose it's hard to take advantage of such opportunities when you're too busy reloading your crossbow."

An angry grunt sounded from the nearby bushes.

A woman with short, rugged hair, holding an unloaded crossbow stepped out, tossed the weapon aside and drew a long knife.

"You can wipe that arrogant smirk off your face, fancy pants. Your money, now, or we gut you like a fish."

Faelan raised an eyebrow. "We?"

He heard more rustling from behind him, and he cursed internally.

"Drop the sword. There are four of us and one of you." Another voice sounded behind him.

Four, huh? Three behind, one in front. This should be a nice challenge.

"Dropping the sword. You're right – I stand no chance."

The smirk never left his face.

From behind, a knife was placed on his throat as someone tied his hands together.

"Erin, you check the horse. Daia, Gerald, keep an eye out." Crossbow commanded.

The three thugs nodded and spread out.

As Faelan was worked to the ground, the woman laughed. "Not so tough now, are you?"

Faelan laughed. "Oh, when I'm done with you..."

Slowly, his form started to shift.

"What the f–!" her scream was cut off as Fealan lunged at her, his fangs bare, slashing her with his claws.

The two bandits, standing guard—turned around, alarmed by their leader's scream.

"Where did that wolf come from?" One of them shouted.

With a growl, Faelan dashed at them, tackling one of them to the ground, his fangs sinking into their throat, the taste of blood filling his mouth. As the body beneath him went limp, he turned around, shifting back, his daggers appearing in his hands.

He blocked the incoming blow.

Two quick stabs and his opponent went down.

Finally, the one next to the horse noticed his companion's distress and turned around, only to be met with a dagger in his throat.

===================

A couple of hours later, Faelan arrived at the inn.

As he entered, he tossed two silver and a couple of copper pieces to the innkeeper.

"A room and a place for my horse. And a warm meal. I've had a rough day."

"Right away, sir. You're in luck. My nicest room is still available. Most people don't stay long. Rumour has it a band of thieves has been roaming these lands."

Faelan smiled. "Glad I didn't run into them then."

After finishing his meal, he took his stuff upstairs, slumped down on the bed, and quickly fell asleep.