Avalaine’s mind was whirling as Garrick was speaking. He was completely unheard by her..

She was trying to think of a way to stay in his presence as long as possible. She knew he would soon lead her back to her father’s camp, and then she would never get another chance to sneak off.

Old Master Multon had remained annoyingly close, and he never took his sharp eyes off of her. This flustered her, hampering her desperate planning.

Avalaine wished the wind would pick up, then she could stumble into Garrick’s arms again, but now the air was regrettably still. She frowned.

“My Lady, are you well?” Garrick asked her. He had finally noticed she was not listening and had seen the frown on her face.

“Oh!” she said, quickly. “I just thought of something!” she nearly shouted, and she had just thought of it.

“I believe I passed Viscount Brandu’s camp earlier! We should definitely give our regards in person!” her voice was breathless as she spoke, willing Garrick to agree.

He smiled, lighting up his entire face.

“Ah, Brandu!” he said, obviously pleased. “I agree, that man undoubtedly has insight into this entire affair. We would do well to speak with him.”

Multon spoke up then. “Very good. I will send a runner to ask his permission for an audience.”

Garrick waved a hand dismissively.

“No, no, Master Multon,” he said. “Such will not be necessary with Viscount Brandu.”

Multon looked as if he might disagree, but Garrick kept speaking.

“You hold command here while I am away. I will return shortly.”

With that, he began moving off. Multon, balked, waved at two soldiers to follow along with the Baron, and they fell in behind him.

Avalaine took advantage of the situation to slide her arm into Garrick’s. She made certain to keep the gesture formal, as if she needed assistance walking, so he would not pull away.

However, as they walked, she also made certain to turn and favor old man Multon with a brilliant smile declaring her victory.

A scowl of annoyance from the old Master of Arms rewarded her. It put her mood at a soaring height.

***

As they walked, and Garrick addressed various men along the way, Avalaine considered Viscount Brandu.

Most times, a Baron would not simply call upon a superior without gaining leave beforehand. However, in this case there existed a camaraderie, a certain affinity between some of the Bannermen of King Maera.

All would serve together when called upon, but not all cared for one another, and some were outright hostile to others, with only the firm hand of the House of Maera preventing bloodshed.

Viscount Brandu was “one of them”. Although he was a dry man, with a personality that resembled crumbling stone at first experience, he had become a trusted ally over the years.

There had even been a point when her father had wanted to marry her off to the Viscount, but Brandu had put a stop to it, without any stain, smudge or mark on her honor.

She had been barely fourteen summers, but even then she had seen the man’s frightening intelligence, and his clever navigation of the rules of the Nobility.

Since then, they remained in contact, mostly writing about mathematics and natural phenomena, and sometimes playing a game of Luneboard, which could take months to complete, as they played each move via message delivered by bird flight.

It had been she who had recommended that Garrick contact the Viscount when he had been having strange difficulties in his barony several years earlier.

Avalaine snapped out of her rumination when they arrived at the camp of Orel, the province of which Brandu was Viscount and ruler.

The flag of Orel was a gray field with black horses running. Avalaine did not find the colors inspiring, but the device seemed to fit Brandu perfectly.

They could move through the camp without interference, as the men there either held their places or moved with purpose about their business.

Garrick looked on approvingly at the orderly camp Brandu maintained. Avalaine smirked as she watched Garrick’s face. She could see the approval there, and it amused her.

Finally, they arrived at the large tent in the center, gray of course, that would be the temporary home of the Viscount.

Two gray-clad men stopped them, but said nothing, waiting for the newcomers to announce themselves.

The two soldiers who had accompanied them stepped forward, but the Baron waved them off and spoke for himself.

“I am Baron Varsus of the Varsus province, in the presence of Lady Avalaine of Teyscha, here to see the Viscount should he be available.”

One man was about to speak, but a voice from inside the tent came first.

“Send them in.”

Instantly obeying the command, the two tent guards stepped aside and opened the tent flaps for the two noble visitors.

Garrick and Avalaine entered the tent. Without instruction given, the two Varsus soldiers that had accompanied them stepped to the side of the two Orel guards to wait.

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The inside of the tent was brightly lit, so much so that both Avalaine and Garrick stopped to wait for their eyes to adjust.

When they did, Garrick examined the man before him.

Viscount Tempus Brandu was on the shorter side for a man, perhaps even a full head shorter than Garrick. He was bone thin, and his features were sharp and angular. His brow protruded such that his eyes always appeared in shadow.

The man’s bushy eyebrows and thick head of hair were deep black. Brandu was easily on the far end of middle age, yet there were no hints of gray in his hair or short beard.

As Garrick remembered, Brandu was always bearing some new burn or scar upon his person. He had learned the hard way that the Viscount was something of an alchemist, and his experiments had a way of going wrong. Very wrong.

This time, the man had a red scar on his left temple, and Varsus was not sure if he should ask about it.

Avalaine took the matter into her own hands.

She rushed forward and gave the older man a tight hug, which Garrick observed went unreturned. Viscount Brandu stiffened, and Garrick could tell he was uncomfortable.

Avalaine did not take it personally. Both she and Garrick knew it was just his way.

“Tempus, what have you done to yourself now?” Avalaine asked, laughing as she reached up to touch the wound on his face.

Brandu, not offended at the use of his first name, recoiled slightly from the touch but allowed it all the same.

“Do not worry,” said the Viscount, “it was only a minor combustion this time. Everything is under control.”

Avalaine and Brandu began talking about the nature of his last experiment. Garrick, quickly losing track of the conversation, took the opportunity to look about the tent.

There were candles, books and scrolls everywhere, even on the Viscount’s bedroll, but in the center of the room, a makeshift table hosted a large map, one that Garrick quickly realized was a map of the entire kingdom.

Focusing on the map, Garrick could see that Brandu had left small marker stones in various positions.

Most of them were at the southern end of the kingdom, but there were two inside of the Royal Maera province, which itself was nearly at the center of the kingdom.

Garrick didn’t like the look of those two stones. If something had happened in the very heart of the kingdom, surely that would prove dangerous for all.

I suppose that is why we are here now, he thought. What seemed an outsized response to him had perhaps been exactly what was called for to end this threat… whatever the threat actually was.

“Those stones mark areas of disturbance in the past year,” said Viscount Brandu, who had appeared suddenly behind Garrick.

Turning, Garrick gave the man a quick greeting.

“Well met, Viscount,” he said, bending his head down in a gesture of respect to a superior in rank.

“Indeed,” said Brandu, his voice dry and crisp. Garrick, like Avalaine, knew not to take the Viscount’s mannerisms personally. They had all proven themselves friends many times over by now.

“As I said, those stones show trouble spots over the past year, and I can’t help but feel they have something to do with the Battle of Wademount.”

“Battle?” asked Varsus. “Is that what we are to call it? By the time I arrived we only engaged with a few mercenary bands.”

The Viscount shook his head slowly.

“The battle to reach the castle raged for weeks before my troops arrived. I have heard tell that the royal troops engaged with something far worse than mercenaries on the mountain.”

“Far worse?” Avalaine asked, her voice rising a bit in pitch. “What was far worse? Elves?” She began to look around, as if there might be an elf in this very tent.

Brandu shook his head definitively in the negative.

“No, no. No one has seen any sizable force of Elves for over a century.”

Garrick nodded in agreemen. Every once in a while one of the mad creatures would be spotted along the rim of the Endless Forest, but the Elves no longer made any genuine attempt to come out in force.

“Then what was it?” Garrick asked.

“I heard both ghosts and demons,” said Brandu, shortly. He did not elaborate.

Avalaine and Varsus said nothing, then both turned to look at one another. Avalaine gestured toward Garrick as if to prod him to speak, and so he did.

“You heard this from who?” asked Varsus.

***

In short order, the company had grown another member, as Garrick, Avalaine and now Viscount Brandu walked through his camp, on the way to the camp of another good friend of theirs, Earl Mondrake of Kaston.

Brandu’s two guards cleared the way as they walked, and Garrick’s guards brought up the rear.

Varsus allowed Lady Avalaine to take his arm again, but he half thought of sending her back to her father with his guards.

He still felt this night was dark and foul, and that something did not feel right about anything here.

But then he thought maybe she was safer under his direct protection. Besides, he enjoyed having her on his arm, although that was something he could barely admit even to himself.

He had always enjoyed spending time with Avalaine. It seemed they could talk about anything, and they had been doing so since they were children. Although he conceded that back when they were children, the level of discourse was mostly arguing about something completely inane.

With both of their provinces on the northern coast of Maeraland, they always attended the same court events as well as private events arranged by other nobles.

She had always been a part of his life somehow. But now with the responsibilities of rule, he had seen little of her, and suspected he would see less in the future.

Garrick was glad to have his train of thought interrupted by the Viscount.

“Look around. Observe the quiet around us,” he said. Brandu’s near-monotone voice lowered to a whisper.

Garrick, jolted from his dark thoughts, did just that.

He could see that men went about their duties, but there was no speaking. No casual chatting, no crass japes or even the usual complaining when fighting men were told to stand and wait.

No one even looked at the Lady in the bright dress who definitely should not be there.

The wind had died down completely. Now one could hear the creaks of leather harnesses, the soft stamping and whinnying of horses, the crackle of nearby torches, and the clanking of armor pieces meeting.

The trio and their guards kept walking, but Garrick’s was more aware than ever of a dark feeling of unease. He knew something was wrong, but could not explain what, and so he kept it to himself.

He did not want to appear unmanned by the circumstances. Whatever it was would likely fade as soon as they left this place.

***

Still a short distance away physically, but out of sync with this bright, noisy reality… IT followed along behind Garrick.

It had searched through the man’s mind earlier, not gently, and had determined that this fool resided in a part of this land that would be beneficial for it to visit. Thus the man had been marked, to be used for later purpose.

It could feel the woman’s lust for its pawn. It laughed at her repressed urges. It found much about this Human meat to be laughable, but now was not the time to play with her.

There were many things that must be done, and it was growing weaker by the moment. It needed to be away from this place soon.

A return was inevitable, but for now, it was best to hurry away and avoid detection and the same fate as its brethren.

That would not do at all.

It was so hungry. It needed to feed, badly, but it would not be wise to do so here, surrounded by the Human chattel. Some of them possessed not-insignificant power, and it was no fool.

That was why it remained while others endured banishment, and why it would pave the way for its master, thus reaping the rewards.

The Master's arrival would bring the cleansing and proper use of this place and the rest of this pitiful world.

It had been nothing more than an accident that had made The Master aware of this world, and he had sent his most trusted minions to secure this place. They were to have prepared it for The Master’s eventual arrival and use.

The thing that followed Garrick knew that those beings had been entities of terrible, vast power.

And they had been defeated.

No, it was no fool. It did not have their power, but it did have guile, intelligence, the will to do what others could not.

As soon as it was able, it would tear open another hole in time and space, call out to The Master, and thus bring about the end of this world and its wretched inhabitants.

No Human could see it, but the thing that stalked behind Garrick smiled a grotesque, terrible smile.