SOUTHWEST OF THRAZ:

Suns I hate this place, it’s like visiting the shadows of the void. The trees bunch together too much, the sun doesn’t get through, the darkness feels like it’ll swallow me. I say a quick prayer to Father Sky, he’s protected me this far. Please, keep me concealed as I travel through this place, protect me from the demons. I kiss my medallion, a circle with the insignia of Father Sky’s order within. A triangle with his suns rising over the horizon. With my kiss I send my prayer to the sky and hope his sentinels will bring it to him. Keep me safe.

I stand in my wagon with every muscle tensed, the reigns in my hands grip tight until my palms turn white. I’m ready to whip my team of fand into action to get me out of this haunted place. I hear shifting in the bushes, but I can’t see the figure emerging. Must it be so dark here? I tense further and drop the reigns raising my bow to position. I knock an arrow and prepare to pull back, slaying whatever beast is lurking in the dark brush.

“You may relax, it is only me.” A cool emotionless voice pierces from the darkness, a voice I recognize.

With the bow still ready to fire I call out with my innards shivering. “Are you alone?”

“Yes. As always.” The voice responds again as the familiar figure appears into my limited lantern light. “This is as much a danger for me as it is you. Bear that in mind.”

I glare at him with suspicion, I’ve never trusted him. I’ve been trading with him for fifteen years now, he’s made me rich beyond my wildest dreams, I still don’t trust him. It’s those eyes of his, they’re not right. Father Sky made our eyes in three colors for a reason, holy colors, blessed colors. Blue, green, and gold; the colors of the sky, the fields, and the sun. Nowhere did he make purple eyes for nobody, there are demons lurking behind those eyes.

I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the void king Scliras himself, formed into an approximation of a holy skysinger to fool us. They did that, it’s in the texts. Those monsters from the void, they can change themselves, disguise themselves, and walk among us. It’s how they poisoned us so long ago, created the grayskins, pieces of the demons who fled back to the void when their work was done.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I shrug, even if he is Scliras, the all hateful butcher of our people, powerful malevolent monster and enemy to Father Sky, he sure does make me rich. He may be a demon of the void, but for the time being, I live in a luxurious home in Safehaven above ground. It’s worth the risk, though to be safe I kiss the medallion again sending a prayer to Father Sky.

Fifteen years and I still don’t know his name, he refuses to give it. That only lends more credibility to my suspicions. “Demon, do you have anything new?”

He sighs, he doesn’t like me calling him that. But he’s never denied it either, he ignores it outright. I flinch with suspicion as he looks over at me, suns he’s so tall. Skinny too, he looks stretched out like his proportions are all wrong. His black and silver hair, only serves to accentuate how sickly his skin looks. He’s pale as the moon, probably because he lives here in a void of darkness. I shiver.

His voice speaks out again, cool and lacking any emotion. “Do you have what I asked for?”

I nod and hoist a bag from behind me and lean out to him dropping it to the ground. He reaches out and catches the back by its neck, he can be so fast, but then in an instant he looks so tired. The demon doesn’t make sense. He looks inside and nods with approval. Setting the bag down he hands me a crate filled with books.

I look over the books, they’re bound in plain leather, nothing flashy like the people in Safehaven want. But the cost to re-bind them is well worth the effort. Inside, these books might as well be gold inlaid pages. I pick one up and look inside, there are symbols I recognize but don’t recall. I’m not the one that reads these, but the scholars eat them up. Whoever this demon is, or void king, he’s a mad genius. More than that, is there a word for most brilliant person to have ever lived?

Looking at the pages, as if I expect myself to understand any of it, I hum. “Is it any good?”

The demon nods. “Major advances in mathematics that can change how your brightest scholars view the world itself. Do not worry though, it all builds upon what I have already been sending you. They will understand it. I have also included another collected works of biology and botany to further understand the innerworkings of living things. As well as works about architecture and city planning that should prove valuable in improving the space problem within your cities. Oh, and another medical work detailing how to create medicinal cures that should save many lives.”

I hum to myself with a nod. “Sounds worth a coin or two. Better than those books of diplomacy and social science you traded a few years back. Nobody wanted those, save for the academy on Capital Island.”

He shrugs. “I thought the collective could benefit from them.”

I place the crate safe in the wagon, not in the back, no precious cargo goes by my feet where I can protect it. “You know, you could come to Safehaven. You’d be celebrated as a hero. The Great Hermit, famous scholar who changes the world from the backwoods by nightstalker territory.”

“I do my best work alone. That will not change. I only want the supplies you bring.” He picks up the bag and begins to walk away.

I shake my head. “All you ask for is art supplies. Paint, brushes, sketchbooks, pencils, ink, you never ask for any food. Not even a single luxury item, you make me plenty of money.”

He begins to limp away with his voice carrying into the echoing woods. “These are all I require. Now go, I will see you again after the snows have melted.”

I grunt and grab the reigns again. “Alright then, until the flowers bloom, Scliras.”

He frowns and turns his head to look back at me. “What?”

I nod whipping my fand into a quick march. “That’s what I thought.”