Charomera

The 15th of Thargelion

The Year 4631 in the Era of Mortals

Something was wrong.

Lyssa blinked awake with a shiver, the water trembling with her. She’d fallen asleep in the bath, her neck stiff from the odd angle. The water was cold and, at best guess, she’d slept about an hour. Something had woken her. A noise, perhaps.

She checked the room through slitted eyes. There was no one. She focused her hearing; in the silence, she could hear the wind blow against the side of the building but no other noises stood out to her. She waited another few seconds, just to be sure, then surged forward and turned around. There was no one behind her, either.

She was alone.

Lyssa drained the bath and produced a towel. Once suitably dry, she dressed and stepped out to the floor. With all the stress, there was little surprise she had fallen asleep. An hour wasn’t enough, but something about the way she woke unsettled her. Going back to bed felt like a bad idea. Perhaps a walk would calm her – or a hunt. The hour was still late—or early, depending on one’s perspective—and the night-prey would still be foraging.

Lyssa pulled her bow free, feeling the wood grain beneath her fingers. She had taken to holding it in the quiet solitude of her room, away from prying eyes and whispering voices. It was her connection to Dawnwood, one she still couldn’t completely sever. It was not a night for mournful remembrance, however. She put all thoughts of home away and attuned to her surroundings.

With deft management of the inventory, her armor appeared over her walking clothes and she cracked open the bedroom door. It was dark in the hall, which meant Theo had finally retired to his own room, a recent addition on the ground floor. Across the building, next to the front door, a guard scratched his cheek, leaving three small, red lines. It was a human man named Spiridon. Elpida’s absence meant she had likely gone to bed. The guard would most certainly not let her leave unaccompanied at risk of summoning Elpida’s wrath. The idea of stringing along another for her hunt left an acrid taste in her mouth. Being a leader had such tedious downsides.

Activating Stealth, she slipped from her room and shut the door quietly behind her. Given Spiridon’s position next to the door, that egress was out of the question. Though her skill was high enough she doubted the man would notice her in the room, there was no way she would be able to sneak directly past him. Perhaps Tess could manage it, but it was beyond Lyssa.

Instead, she padded toward the stairs, taking great care to ensure each footfall was silent. The path involved several side steps to avoid the wooden planks that creaked, each of which Lyssa had found and memorized in the days spent trapped in the building, searching for any escape from the monotony of parchmentwork. Swiftly and silently, Lyssa climbed the stairs until she reached the second level. Given that Tess, Helwan, and Arche had left for the city, half the rooms of the second level were now unoccupied. The others housed Elpida, Gigator, and Vikterandor, none of which Lyssa wished to disturb.

She opened the door to Arche’s room and slipped inside. Soft, sapphire light filtered in from the window on the opposite wall, beckoning her forth. She moved toward it, stopping as her foot touched something sticking out from beneath the bed. Lyssa reached down and pulled it out. It was a strange harness, the front would form a crossed bandolier and the back held folded mantikhoras wings.

A glider.

Lyssa would have laughed if it were not important she stay quiet. It figured that Arche would have found or commissioned some insane item and then left it behind. Still, it wasn’t necessarily safe to leave such a thing laying around. It was probably a Rare item, at the least, and beneath a bed was a very childish hiding spot. Lyssa put it into her inventory, where it would be safe. She would give it back once Arche returned.

The moonlight drew her attention, shining through the open window. Blue Selene stood full in the sky while its green counterpart, Agrotera, was a waxing crescent. The combined light lit the ground below evenly, without even a cloud to give cover. Lyssa placed one foot on the sill, grabbed the outside of the frame in both hands, and launched herself away from the building. She hit the ground with a roll, coming up to her feet and glancing about to see if anyone noticed. With no one around, she made her way toward the river.

At some point, she would suggest that Arche install either a crossbeam of wood to his window or find another way to cover it, but in the meantime, she would use the oversight to her advantage. Besides, she had to wait for Arche to return to tell him anything.

“Impressive.”

Lyssa had her bow out and drawn before the last syllable faded into silence, arrow tip nearly scratching the upturned lips of a smiling Vik. She held it there, letting the message seep in before she eased the tension in the string. Spymaster or no, his elusiveness left little to trust.

“You should be more careful who you sneak up on.”

Vik raised his hands in mock surrender. “I meant no offense. Off to do some hunting, I suppose?”

Lyssa narrowed her eyes.

“And what of it?”

“Nothing. It’s not like you to abandon your guards, however. Wasn’t it your idea to have them in the first place?”

“A decision I regret whenever I begin to feel selfish. Like tonight. If you’ll excuse me.”

She left him and headed again toward the river.

“If you’ll permit me,” Vik said quickly, catching up to her. “I would like to join you. Believe me, I have no chivalrous notions of protecting you, should we find ourselves in danger.”

“Why should I permit it?”

“We have a matter to discuss.”

Lyssa felt her eye twitch.

“Conversation scares the prey. Makes for a barren hunt.”

“Nonetheless, this is a matter that deserves your attention. One that I think you’ll find more interesting than the parchment Theodorous keeps shoving in front of your face.”

Lyssa stopped at the water’s edge. Vikterandor was her spymaster, but she had seen very little of him in the month she had been running the city. He’d left her the occasional note with vague progress updates. They typically mentioned a number of spies in training, though not their identities, and various different assurances. Vik had stood by Lyssa against Callias Buteo, the former archon, and had played a pivotal role in convincing the people to choose Lyssa as the next leader. This had gone a long way in proving his loyalty, but his extended absence gnawed at her, whispering that she still knew next to nothing about the moon elf, other than Arche’s claim that he had once been a pirate and what little Elpida had mentioned.

The trip into the woods was supposed to be a quiet reward, not a work-related venture. Still, there was a gleam of earnestness in Vik’s eyes that told her he held something important. Trusting that her spymaster probably wouldn’t stab her in the back without good reason, she nodded once.

“Very well. Do keep up.”

With that, she turned and dove into the river. The water was brisk and refreshing, carrying with it the musky scent of mud and soil. The current was slow, flowing away from Mount Hyperion, and Lyssa found no trouble in crossing. As she pulled herself out of the water and onto the bank, a hand entered her vision. Vik stood in front of her, bone-dry and smiling. She ignored the hand to grab a fistful of her hair, wringing the water out. It wasn’t long, but there was enough there to carry weight when wet.

The walk up the incline of the valley was spent in silence. Vik appeared to be in no great hurry to share whatever news he had and Lyssa was in no mood to pester him for information. Being in the company of another elf allowed her to fall back into old habits. Specifically, taking her time. Thus, it wasn’t until they had long broken through the wood line and found a pair of tracks to stalk that anything was said between them at all.

“Boar,” Lyssa said, analyzing the grooves in the mud. “Not typical, though. Elemental. Wood, by the look of it.”

“A wooden boar elemental,” Vik said. “Remarkable. Will it be the subject of tonight’s hunt?”

Lyssa shrugged.

“Not unless it decides we are the subject of its own. Other than the experience, it offers little interest to me. There is no meat to prepare and the creature’s body would go to waste without an enchanter to make use of it. There is little threat to the village, as well.”

“Very good, then. Off to the next hunt. How exciting.”

Lyssa glanced at the moon elf, who pretended not to notice. Vik stood to the side, giving the tracks a passing interest as he watched the forest around them. Whether it was the cursory check for interlopers or if he was searching for something specific, Lyssa had no idea. Instead, she stood and pointed south, perpendicular to the way they had come.

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“This way.”

“Lead on.”

Lead she did. She ran through the forest in a predatory crouch, not a single branch or blade of grass disturbed by her passing. Her senses were alive, alerting her to every sound in the forest around them. She had to admit that though Vik seemed rather unsuited for the forest, he was better than all of the others at keeping quiet. She had the distinct feeling that if he was to enter into Stealth, not even she would be able to perceive him. That thought did not sit well with her. Was the reason for his long absence simply that he was not allowing himself to be seen? Or was he occupied by other concerns, known only to himself? She had placed a lot of trust in this spymaster. She hoped he deserved it.

They came to another set of tracks. Or, rather, a large grouping of tracks that had torn up the sod in the area. She peered closely at the hoof marks in the dirt.

“Horses?” Vik peered over her shoulder. “I’m surprised they would be this far into the woods.”

“Not horses. Centaurs. A whole clan of them. See the second crescent below the top of the hoof? A symbol of their connection to the moons.”

“Centaurs, you say? I’ve heard of the horsefolk but I’ve never met one.”

“They keep to themselves, mostly. Nomadic and aggressive; as a clan they are a force to be reckoned with. I estimate about thirty in this group.”

“A threat?”

The question was casual, like the way one might inquire about upcoming weather, but Lyssa felt the implication in his words.

“Not outright, no. This many could cause devastation but they are unlikely to attack without cause. When they decide to contact us, we should treat them with respect, not hostility.”

“You’re certain they’ll contact us?”

“We’ve created a settlement near land they use. Contact is inevitable but, unless we run across them here, that meeting is up to them. I will inform the hunters tomorrow. The last thing we need is to mistake one for prey.”

“Wise. It will also make an interesting problem set for my recruits. ‘How to gain information on a group that will immediately recognize outsiders.’”

Lyssa cut her eyes toward him once more.

“And how are the recruits?”

“Progressing. Their training is thorough, do not worry.”

“Will you tell me their identities?”

“No.” Vik smiled. “But I will share the secrets they uncover.”

Lyssa’s expression darkened but Vik was talking again before she could voice her displeasure.

“You are honest, Lyssa. Deception does not sit well with you. Know that I am not trying to deceive you, but give you a deniability in the matter that does not force you to lie. If you know my spies, then you will be forced to act whenever their mention arises. Do you want that pressure? Knowing that you might endanger them with an errant word, an errant expression, whenever they cross your conversation?”

“And you? What if something happens to my spymaster?”

“I am replaceable. I am already grooming my second, if you’re concerned for my life. If you’re concerned for your reports, you will still receive them. It may be in the form of a letter atop your desk, or a voice when you are alone, but they will come through.”

“You are right that I dislike the deception of this.”

“Then shall we continue the hunt?”

Lyssa scowled and led the way deeper into the woods. She scoured the forest for signs of prey, looking for anything she could hunt. Preferably something that would give her a challenge. For an hour, they found nothing of consequence, then she heard something new. Among the buzz of insects and the occasional hunting call of a nocturnal bird, she heard a hissing noise. Instantly, she veered toward it, trying to identify it. Fifty meters away, still out of sight, she had a pretty good idea of what lay before them.

“Shadow serpent,” she whispered.

“What?”

“You’ll see. Is your sword magical?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll need it. My weapons won’t hurt it.”

Vik paused, clearly hesitant to part with his sword. Lyssa looked at him expectantly, one hand outstretched.

“I will return it in one piece.”

With great reluctance, he handed over the sword.

“Take care of Starlight. She is not always kind to her wielders.”

Lyssa hefted the sword, judging its weight. The blade was slender and straight, stretching a meter in length. It was heavier than it appeared but was exceptionally balanced in her hand. She adjusted her grip, cocked her head, and listened for the hiss of the snake. It came from the underbrush, fifty meters ahead and to her right. She moved toward it, low to the ground, silent and sure-footed. She did not creep, as others might, but ran toward the creature. The leaves of the bushes near her did not sway with her passing and the grass left no sign of her footprints as she moved over it. She was no timid predator.

She was a Huntress.

Only when the serpent was ten meters away and its hiss was loud and drowning did Lyssa finally set eyes on it. It was a monstrous being, easily twenty meters from tongue to tail. Much of it was wreathed in the shadows cast by the tall trees surrounding them. Inspection of those parts revealed that large portions were incorporeal. Shadow and smoke in the shape of a serpent. The head was solid enough as it bit into the hind quarters of a huge, golden stag. Glowing purple eyes rejoiced over the serpent’s victory. It lifted its head as it swallowed down a chunk of meat and let loose a throaty hiss that shook the air.

Lyssa did not stop her advance. Instead, she stepped off a raised root and flew through the air. Her next step propelled her sideways as she used the trunk of a tree to renew her speed and give her even greater height. She repeated this three times before launching herself directly at the creature’s head, Starlight glittering in her hand.

Whether it was an uncanny Perception or by some other means, the serpent reacted as soon as Lyssa could no longer change her direction. It let loose a mighty hiss and dissipated into shadows, recoiling into itself impossibly fast as Lyssa tore through the air, dropping eight meters before hitting the ground at a roll. With her surprise attack foiled, Lyssa threw herself to the side once she had regained control over her momentum. The serpent’s head sprayed dirt and tore deep rivulets into the ground where her body had been. She thrust out with Starlight, hoping to gore the snake and end the fight quickly, but too late. It had retreated into itself, its body a broil of shadows.

Purple eyes stared at her from the darkness, watching her with ophic intelligence. With all hope of a surprise attack and decisive victory fled, Lyssa calculated her next moves. The serpent was fast and able to become incorporeal to quickly change positions or avoid attacks, but it did not yet seem to know her blade was magical. If her knowledge of the fell creatures was correct, a magic weapon could pierce the smoke that the serpent retreated to, injuring or even killing it, but defeating her enemy was not the only requirement Lyssa had. Surviving was paramount.

She crouched, once again ready to move but not yet decided upon the direction, when the serpent struck again. She threw herself to the left, striking a tree and kicking off it, toward the snake. The serpent twisted in its strike, aiming for her, but she was ready for it. Starlight pierced the side of its mouth, cracking a bone. The snake recoiled, hissing in pain. Lyssa did not waste the moment, moving again for the body where its gargantuan size would limit its mobility, but now the snake knew that her sword could wound it and it showed no intention of letting her get where it could not strike.

The serpent turned entirely to shadow and shifted, not moving in the serpentine fashion of its mundane brethren, but laterally, floating across the ground like drifting smoke in the breeze, always keeping its head and fangs pointed toward her. Lyssa watched for an opening, but there was none. The snake lunged for her and she spun out of the way, avoiding the fangs but not the rest of the creature’s bulbous head. A tree stopped her quick tumble across the forest floor, taking a quarter of her Health along with it as she gasped in pain and surprise. Both were quickly brought to bear as the serpent moved against her again. Bringing up Starlight in a defensive posture, somehow having maintained her grip on it, she lashed out at the snake. It recoiled from her strikes, staying out of reach as it waited for her to tire.

“Epimíkis!” Vik shouted.

Starlight glowed in Lyssa’s hand. Ornate grooves along the handle and blade shimmered with silver light and coalesced at its tip. As she stabbed outward, a beam of light shot forward, burning through snake flesh with a sizzle.

The shadow serpent recoiled farther, hissing in pain, but Lyssa pressed her advantage. Every thrust and slash of the weapon sent light beams outward, searing into the flesh and shadows of the creature. It lunged for her again, no doubt intending to swallow her whole, but Lyssa jumped to meet it, placing one boot on the front of the serpent’s head. Purple eyes looked up at her in fury, but before it could shake her loose, Lyssa drove Starlight into the creature’s eye and deeper. Another bloom flashed briefly inside the shadow serpent’s skull, the light shining through skin and the creature’s other eye. Then, it fell to the ground, completely solid and quite dead.

You have slain a Level 41 Shadow Serpent.

You gain 2,460 experience.

You have completed your Hunt.

You gain 1,000 experience.

“Impressive work,” Vik said, striding into the clearing. “Are you injured?”

“Nothing lasting.” Lyssa looked down at the serpent, her brow knitted.

“What’s the matter?”

“It was strong. Very strong. Without magical weapons, it would be unstoppable.”

“It’s a good thing you had one, then. Speaking of, might I have it returned?”

Lyssa wiped the blood from the thin blade and handed it back to Vik, who held it gently before sheathing it.

“We’re only a few kilometers away from Myriatos. If this creature decided to attack the village, we would have no protections.”

Vik smiled at her as though he knew something she didn’t.

“So what are you going to do about it, Archousa?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, glowering at him.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

“My patience is running thin, Vikterandor.”

The moon elf cocked an eyebrow but his smile did not fade.

“Clearly. No need to thank me for the intervention, by the way. All in a day’s work.”

Lyssa took a deep breath and tried to settle her nerves. Then, finally, she addressed the topic they’d been avoiding.

“Tell me of the matter you wanted to discuss.”

The smile dropped from Vik’s face.

“Callias Buteo.”