The following days were uneventful, with the duo mostly travelling in silence, broken only by snippets of small talk. After three days, Nym's curiosity finally got the better of her. She cleared her throat as she observed Faelan rising from his seated position.

Faelan's ear twitched, and he remarked, "So you're finally gonna ask?"

Nym looked at him, puzzled. "What?"

Turning around with a faint smile, Faelan said, "You're curious about what the hell I'm doing. I expected you to ask yesterday."

"I was going to, but you seemed a bit... grumpy."

Faelan chuckled before abruptly turning around and retched. "Ancients be damned..." he swore under his breath, a foul taste lingering in his mouth.

"Mind if we continue this conversation tomorrow? I'm not feeling too well at the moment."

"That's fine. Just don't forget."

Faelan smiled. "I won't."

He laid down on his bedroll and quickly drifted to sleep.

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

Faelan awoke to rustling nearby. Carefully he opened his eyes. It was dark all around him, the fire long gone out.

His ears twitched as he noticed footsteps shuffling along the forest floor.

His Fae eyes started to adjust to the darkness around him as he looked around.

Near the horses, he saw a tall figure, their features covered by hood and cloak.

Faelan looked at Nym, sleeping only a few feet away from him.

He lowered his sight into the Veil and was momentarily blinded.

Biting back a curse, he blinked a few times and focussed on the Weaves he had put in place.

They were nowhere to be seen.

So a Weaver and a Seer. If it can peer into the Veil, it's not an elf.

He pulled his sight from the Veil and silently crawled over to Nym.

Once there, he placed his hand over her mouth, hoping for her to keep quiet.

Her eyes flew open, but Fealan quickly placed a finger on his lips and nudged his head in the horse's direction.

The figure had not noticed them yet. From this distance, it was impossible to discern what they were doing.

Keeping his hand on his lips, Faelan started to shift. The familiar sense of magic washed over him as his form changed. Within seconds, he had disappeared, hidden by the tall grass.

His rodent paws made little sound as he tipped over to the horses.

The figure's movement halted, looking around.

They noticed Faelan's empty bedroll, and a swear escaped their lips.

Before Faelan could react, the figure leapt up, their form shifting.

Arms to the shape of wings, as feathers started to sprout from the figure's body.

Faelan shifted back into human form and grabbed for the harrier that flew away from where the figure had been standing.

All he grabbed was empty air.

His mind was racing, and his eyes darted around, looking for a way to catch up.

His sight landed on Nym's spear, strapped to her horse's side.

With inhuman speed, he undid the straps and checked the balance.

It's not meant for throwing, so it will be front-heavy. Now breathe, relax. Remember what Talvar taught you.

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

"Again."

A groan escaped Faelan's throat. His arms were sore, and his palms were sweaty.

"Why? These knives aren't balanced. How am I supposed to hit something with these?"

Faelan felt a sharp pain against his leg as the wooden stick collided. It wasn't hard enough to do any damage, but it would leave a sore spot the next day.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You better watch your tone, boy. I took you in and decided to train you. The least you could do is show some respect."

Talvars voice was cheerful but had a serious undertone, and though Faelan didn't turn around, he could almost hear the smug grin on Talvar's face.

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"Now go retrieve your knives and try again. We have all evening."

Huridly, Faelan ran down the throwing range as fast as his young legs could carry him. When he returned to his spot, his breath was irregular and quickened.

He looked up at the towering figure of his guild master. The big man had a smile on his gentle face.

"You should work on your endurance. Now try again."

"Why? What's the purpose of training with unbalanced knives when I'm using proper throwing knives in a real situation?"

Talvar let out a bellowing laugh. "Using proper knives in a real situation? Sure, at the start, maybe. But what do you do when you run out of knives?"

Faelan thought for a few seconds. "Use my dagger?"

Talvar was silent.

It took Faelan a little while to realise.

"Oh. Right."

Talvar's smile grew wider. Then, an idea popped into his head. "Allow me to demonstrate."

He approached the nearest weapon rack and picked up a short sword.

As he walked back to the throwing range, he could see the young Fae-blood eyes widen.

He raided the sword above his head, holding it like a throwing spear.

With all his strength, he threw the sword, striking the target just off-centre.

He turned around and was met by the starstruck face of Faelan.

"And this is why you practice. You won't stop until anything you hold becomes a lethal weapon, both up close and at range."

Faelan nodded vigorously and saluted.

"Yes, sir!"

Talvar smiled.

"Attaboy"

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

Faelan's throw struck true. His Fae strength and rigorous training paid off.

The spear soared through the air, striking its mark.

Faelan dashed forward at incredible speed, shouting backwards to Nym,

"On guard! There could be more!"

In the air, the figure has shifted back into its original form, the spear piercing one of its arms.

With a loud thud, they hit the forest floor, Faelan quickly on top of them, dagger drawn. Mercilessly, he grabbed the head of the spear sticking through their arm and thrust it into the dirt, pinning the figure down.

With force, he pulled off the figure's hood and placed his dagger on their throat.

He was met by the face of what could only be described as an aetherial being.

Golden locks framed a petite face. On top of their head, two silvery horns arched back.

Silver eyes met Faelan's emerald greens.

Faelan shook his head, a scowl on his face, and pressed a little harder on the dagger, the fae woman hissing in pain as small puffs of smoke rose from where steel met her skin.

"Save the enchantments, witch. You're not getting out of this that easily. What are you, half or full-blood Fae?" He growled, using his anger to disperse the teyun around her.

The woman groaned. "Quarter. Please remove that steel from me. I yield."

Faelan pressed a little further. "Wouldn't you like that? For how long have you been following me? Who sent you? Speak now or never speak again."

Despite her grimace of pain, she managed a smile. "Speak now or never speak again? I'd rather die than break my oath."

Faelan shrugged. "As you wish. If I can't get information, you're useless to me."

Blood started to well from under his blade, and the Fae woman screamed as he pushed down his dagger slowly. With her free arm, she tried to grab for the dagger, but Faelan quickly pinned it to the ground with his second dagger, causing smoke and blood to rise from the new wound in her hand.

"Don't kill her!" Nym's voice called from behind.

Faelan paused. "Why not?"

Nym's sword against his throat answered him.

"If you kill her, I kill you. It's as simple as that. We tie her up and bring her to the nearest settlement to be persecuted."

Faelan sighed.

Carefully, he pushed away the sword from his throat, holding eye contact.

Then, before Nym could react, he grabbed her wrist and twisted it, causing her to drop the sword.

She looked stunned as the tip of his dagger pressed against her throat.

"Listen here. I don't plan on hurting you, but that doesn't mean I won't. Now go guard the horses, and let me handle this."

Nym swallowed, and her anger flashed over her face.

"You're no scholar"

Faelan rolled his eyes. "Gee, you think? Who could have guessed."

Then his expression softened.

"Please, I need you to trust me. I'll explain everything later. Just let me handle this."

Nym opened her mouth to answer, but the sound of movement drew Faelan's attention.

Steel over leather could be heard, followed by a soft thud of something hitting the ground.

"Oh no, you don't. Trying to sneak away when I'm distracted? I didn't think so."

He looked back at the Fae woman. A thin streak of red indicated where his throwing knife had skimmed her face. The knife in question had embedded itself right beside her face.

A frustrated groan escaped Faelan.

Ancients, I don't have the patience for this right now. He thought.

Nym started to say something, but he interrupted her. "You... keep quiet. I'll get to you in a minute."

He gave Nym a pointed look, hoping to get his point across, and turned his attention to his captive.

"You... start talking, and you might get to live."

Nym's eyes shot fire, but there was also something of understanding.

"Fine. But I think for only a second you will betray me, you will die."

With this, she stomped off back to the horses.

This left Faelan alone with the Fae.

A slight grin appeared on his face, but the glee didn't reach his eyes.

Oh, how he hated this part of his job.

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

Faelan didn't return to Nym until twilight broke.

He walked past her without saying a word, but she stopped him.

"Where is she?"

He turned around, his gaze like steel, his face a perfect mask of nothing.

"She's dead."

Nym started to draw her sword, but Faelan grabbed her wrist.

"I didn't kill her. I didn't have to. You can go check the body if you want, but you will find I'm speaking truthfully. I'll explain everything once we're on the road."

He let go of her wrist and went to pack his bedroll.

"Why?"

Nym's voice had a slight quiver to it.

A snarl escaped Faelan's throat. "Later, damm it! Give me some time to process. Do you think I enjoy this!? That I enjoy death!?"

His head snapped around, his eyes spewing fire. His fangs were bared and a dark shadow of emotions covered his face.

Nym was too stunned to speak.

In silence, the pair packed their belongings.

As they mounted their horses, Faelan whispered something into his horse's ear, and the steed whinied. With a pat on the horse's neck, Faelan mounted and spurred it on, not waiting for Nym to follow.