Avalon almost felt like his old self, that mighty centaur who ruled over his forest, as he looked down at the world atop four powerful legs. The white stag beat against the ground in a furious rhythm as he ran wild, the magic of the forest licking at their wounds. A sudden leap forced Avalon to hug the stag’s neck or fall from his back, an unwelcome reminder of his humanity. Those legs did not belong to him, they were merely borrowed, for he was the beast’s new master.
Hippolytus was the first of his new servants. Not a spirit of the forest as Morgan was, or as Avalon had been, the stag was born with nobody to grant him a name. It was up to Avalon and he chose a name that sounded strong, like the prince of the glade it would belong to. It was something he learned from a traveling elf and the white stag accepted the name eagerly. A good omen for their “party”, as the adventurers might’ve called them.
When Hippolytus thundered past the burned ruins of the ranger station, humans scrambled from their tents to ready themselves for battle. It was a thrilling sight and Avalon almost ordered a charge into their camp, but thought better of it. The sight of Avalon seated on the white stag’s back, as well as Morgan keeping pace beside them with effortless ease, rendered them too shocked for action.
Avalon left the humans be, but allowed Hippolytus to slow his stride when they neared the walls of Longfirth. It gave the humans on the parapet time to prepare themselves for the party that approached their gates, so their approach could not be mistaken for an attack. The gates came crashing down and shouts echoed, but no arrows flew from the walls. When Avalon reached the gates, he looked up at the guards in the gatehouse above the portcullis.
A woman called down from a window, her uniform emblazoned with colors that matched the banners hanging from either side of the portcullis, “What the hell do you want? Our city has no need for brigands, or the likes of you.”
Avalon’s voice was calm, but bellowed with authority. “Open the gates, I have business in the city with the adventurer’s guild.”
“I don’t care if you have business with Lord Longfirth himself, that monster has no place in this city. Now go away!”
A child’s voice echoed from further within the gatehouse, nearly inaudible, but Hippolytus shared his magic with Avalon through their touch. “My name is Gareth and I am your lord’s son. That girl out there is my sister, your lord’s daughter. Now open the gates!”
The portcullis shrieked as the portcullis lifted from the gateway. The guard pointed at Avalon, ordering him to stay put, and left her post as she yelled, “Oi, what the hell’s going on back there! Why are you opening the gates?”
Avalon nudged Hippolytus forward and guards on the walls shouted for them to stop, but they were behind the portcullis before they could be barred from entry a second time. The passageway was narrow and Hippolytus cringed with every tap of antler on stone, but safely navigated beyond the secondary gateway into the city beyond. There, guards crowded the street in a crescent around the gateway, their shields held in front of them and spears braced for a charge.
Morgan acquitted himself well during the fight with the bandits, despite being caught from behind by Sparrow, and they wouldn’t be enough to stop Hippolytus by himself, let alone with Avalon’s combined might. While more numerous than the bandits had been, and better equipped, they still lacked the numbers to grind down the party they meant to challenge.
Luckily for them, Avalon had no intention of calling their bluff.
Gareth ran down from the walls, jumping down a flight of stairs two steps at a time because of his short stature. “Sister, sister! We’ve all been looking for you!”
The boy-child’s eyes were pleading, on the verge of tears. There was mud clinging onto his wolf head cloak, as well as red bruises across his skin. Gareth was worn down by his search, but too determined for tears. That much was to be expected when their first meeting had been an ambush that Gareth initiated, armed with a knife and prepared to draw blood.
Avalon beckoned Gareth closer. “You’re injured, come here and I’ll tend to your wounds.”
The boy-child was confused by the request, but did as he was asked. Avalon reached down to place a hand on Gareth’s head, letting his green-golden magic wash gently over the boy-child. His bruises closed and turned a muted shade of pink, but Avalon was far from the Evergreen and the wild forests of the north. It was the most Avalon could do with his magic, even as Hippolytus amplified the magic of his home by his very presence. They would need time to heal on their own, but Gareth was astonished by the meager display.
“That was amazing! When did you learn magic?” Gareth raised a hand to run a hand through Hippolytus’ fur, over the wound Avalon cut into his side, and Hippolytus tensed as Gareth’s hand edged closer.
“From Hippolytus.” Avalon trailed a hand through the white stag's fur. “And careful with his wound, it’s fresh.”
“What kind of name is that?”
“It’s one I chose for him, of course.”
“Why don’t you heal him.” Gareth pointed at Avalon’s arm. “And those marks, they’re like branches on a tree!”
Avalon tapped the pinked, torn flesh below his shoulder, where Hippolytus had grazed him with a bolt of conjured lightning. “It was worse, but this is as much as could be healed.”
More could’ve been healed if they stayed in the forest, but Avalon wanted to return to the city as soon as possible. To find admission into the Academy in the south, which meant to keep him from the Elderwood. Avalon smacked his lips and wondered how ambrosia might taste on his tongue, human as it was. Perhaps Aurora might be there waiting for him, so Leifey could restore them to their original bodies.
“You should come back to the castle, Father can summon mages to heal your wounds. When he sees what you’ve accomplished, he won’t be…” Gareth cleared his throat and looked at the guards surrounding them. “He’ll be very happy. And you’re absolutely filthy.”
Avalon’s only reply was to raise a brow at the boy-child’s own filthy clothes. At least Avalon had glorious battle to excuse himself. It was only natural for warriors to become soiled by mud and blood, nobody would fault him for his appearance. Not when they could revel in his triumph.
“We should go on ahead to the adventurer’s guild.” Morgan spoke up, making a show of squinting at Castle Longfirth in the distance. The sooner we reach the adventurer’s guild, the sooner we will have their protection.
“Who the hell are you? The servants said Aurora ran off with a man! Is that you?” The guards began to chatter among themselves.
“I am sworn to your sister, his servant unto death.”
“My first blood rider.” Avalon corrected.
Gareth narrowed his eyes and made a correction of his own. “Her. Do you not know how to speak the common tongue? Are you some kind of foreigner?”
“Yes.” Morgan said simply.
“Oh.” Gareth was taken aback, but nodded with realization as he stared up and down at Morgan. “Father says we get a lot of those, but sometimes I can’t tell them apart. Sorry.”
An old man, not unlike Gunnar for his age and scars, approached from the line of guards formed around them. His smile was friendly, like that of an old friend, but the hand he rested on his sword was not. “My name is Widman and I’m the watch captain of this gatehouse. I would be pleased to escort the young lady to the castle, Lord Longfirth was distraught when his precious daughter had gone missing.” He cast a glance at Morgan and chuckled. “As long as he is reunited with his daughter, all can be forgiven. I’m sure.”
Avalon swung his spear, letting its sword-blade sing in the air, as lightning crackled between Hippolytus’ antlers. Morgan, for his part, placed his own hand on his sword and met the watch captain’s gaze. Widman couldn't be certain of such a thing, it was another human bluff.
“I went North to subjugate the white stag, now I’m going to collect my reward. As I am owed.” Avalon declared.
Widman nodded to a man, who seated himself onto a horse and galloped away, before drawing his sword and returning his attention to Avalon. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let that happen. Your father’s instructions were clear. Please remove yourself from that monster. I don’t know how you’ve calmed it, but it must be dealt with before it goes on a rampage into the city.”
Avalon swung his spear and the blade sliced across the surface of Widman’s cheek. Too shallow to be lethal, too deep to ignore. Widman gasped and stepped away with a hand to his face as he ordered the guards around them to kill Morgan and the stag. Avalon leaned forward from Hippolytus’s back to sever Widman’s head from his body, who was undeterred by Avalon’s earlier warning. Morgan dashed between them and threw the old watch captain into a line of guards that were advancing on them in formation.
Jump over. Morgan said as he leapt into the air, swinging his arms as his momentum carried him forward.
The spirit did not intend for them to fight these humans and Avalon acknowledged there was little need for it. “Follow him, Hippolytus!” He yelled and the beast leapt into the air, after the spirit, cracking the stones in the road when he landed. Widman called for his guards to mount horses and give chase, but Hippolytus was already leaping down the road towards the adventurers guild.
Panicked shouts echoed through the street as humans scrambled away from their carts and wagons. Horses reared and shrieked as they tried to pull free from their harnesses. The road was descending into chaos as the white stag tore through the road with every kick of his hooves, but Hippolytus nimble for his size as he passed over each obstacle with ease.
Morgan kept pace beside them and amazed on-lookers with displays of his agility. While Hippolytus leaped through the air on powerful legs, Morgan pulled himself over carts, darted side to side between humans idling on the road, and slid beneath wagons. Graceful and entirely at ease, like an elf of the woods might traverse through their forest home.
The rider that Widman sent to the castle turned his head back, eyes wide with panic at Avalon’s approach. He spurred his horse forward, kicking at the stallion's flanks, but there was no use. Compared to Hippolytus, his stride was shorter, legs weaker, and he was ill at ease with the number of humans that gathered on the road before him. They stared at the chaos on the road, grouped too close to move away before the rider reached them.
I will deal with the messenger. Morgan said as he darted towards the rider.
“Move! Move! Or be removed!” The rider yelled as his horse reared back, barely avoiding a collision with the crowd, and Morgan was on him. He pulled the rider to the ground and slapped his horse on the rear to send him running, sparing both of their lives.
Avalon continued ahead, with Hippolytus leaping over the crowd, but Morgan rejoined them shortly. Harold might know to send guards to investigate the disturbance on the roads, but without the messenger he won’t know to look for his offspring, the girl-child Aurora. It gave him time to look for the adventurer’s guild local headquarters. The Longfirth Guildhall.
“Stand in front of the statue of Ivar and look down the road leading to the coast. The Guildhall is almost like a castle’s keep.” Avalon repeated the words that Daggert told him the night before, when the adventurers were returning to their rooms.
Built along the western tip of an inlet sea, the long firth that gave the city its name, Longfirth was the gateway to the northern frontiers. A central road ran vertically through the city, but another road bisected the eastern half of the city horizontally. Like the center of a “T”, as Daggert put it, the road stretched towards the shore to connect the harbor with the rest of the city.
With most of the adventurers arriving into the city by ship, the adventurer’s guild built the foundation of their northern headquarters by the harbor. Standing above the buildings around it, the Guildhall was fortified in the same manner as Harold’s keep. It lacked only curtain walls and the structures housed within, but rivaled the lord’s home in size.
There were more weapons along the road leading to the adventurer’s guild and Avalon slowed Hippolytus’ advance. More people stood their ground, hands reaching for weapons at their first sight of the white stag. Adventurers, who were closer to soldiers than Avalon realized. Mages among them pointed at the white stag’s antlers with awe, but Avalon saw Man’s avarice behind them as well.
Many of these warriors are equal to the guards who defend the walls, but enough could be considered superior in quality. Morgan’s voice was calm, but Avalon could feel the spirit’s worry in his own chest. And there is more magic among them than these humans once possessed. Times have changed.
Can we defeat them if we must?
Not all of them.
If that was Morgan’s assessment, then Avalon decided to share his worries. He needed the adventurer’s guild, but a good hunter knew when the risks of pursuit outweighed any potential reward. Once they arrived at the front of the adventurer’s guild, Avalon retrieved Morgan’s sword and ordered the spirit to find the adventurer’s who promised to render them aid.
Avalon had no intention of leaving Hippolytus by himself, or even with Morgan. If they needed to flee, Morgan could return to his sword in an instant and Hippolytus could flee to the north. There, they would regain their strength and find other means of reaching the Elderwood in the Academy dungeons.
When Morgan returned, Meribeth was the first person who appeared from the doors of the Guildhall. “You’re back so soon. And you’re injured, let me see-” The young girl gasped as she stared pointedly at Avalon’s seat on Hippolytus’ back. “Your dress is almost bunched up! Get off or people will see!” She glanced at a group of adventurer’s who were pointing and snickering in their direction.
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Avalon was wary of removing himself from Hippolytus, but Meribeth was the first to rally her party’s support to his cause. She was trustworthy enough. He climbed down from Hippolytus’ back and the rest of Meribeth’s party was exiting the Guildhall with an elderly woman clad whose robes and wide-brimmed hat were like silken moonlight.
Meribeth made an “Uwahh!” noise as she covered her face. Ryman was blushing and refused to meet Avalon’s eyes as he approached. Shana was beside him, staring at him with disbelief. There was something wrong with these humans, but Avalon didn’t care to know.
“You might want to cover yourself.” The elderly woman said as she cast a furtive glance towards Avalon’s dress, torn as it was from his fight with Hippolytus.
I believe she wishes for you to cover yourself for the sake of propriety. You should use this. Morgan thought as he unfurled his chest covering of vines and leaves, and reformed the plant matter into an approximation of a long cloth.
Avalon sighed and relented to the spirit’s suggestion. Very well.
Shana whistled at Morgan and murmured something to Ryman about Morgan’s physique, who only responded with a scoff. Avalon wrapped Morgan’s cloth around his waist and tied it off at the front. The excess fabric covered the tear running up his dress, which reached to the center of his thigh. Avalon still struggled to understand human propriety, but even Isabel would be satisfied with his work.
“Are you the lord of the adventurer’s guild?” Avalon asked the elderly woman as he approached, who chuckled as if it was a ridiculous notion.
“Goodness, no, not a lord. I am the master of the adventurer’s guild in Longfirth, Eugenia. You must be the young Lady Aurora I heard so much about from our mutual friends.” Mutual friend was an overstatement of Avalon’s relationship with any of the adventurers, but they had rendered good aid and he wasn’t going to argue the finer details of their relationship in front of them.
“As I promised, I eliminated the threat to the roads leading into the north. I was told there would be a reward.” Avalon approached the elderly woman and was startled by the sudden magic he felt emanating from her robes. Every thread was made of pure power manifested into physical form.
“Don’t be afraid, child. They’re just robes.”
A blatant lie. Avalon thought as he clutched his spear, prepared to strike out, but the woman simply raised a brow at him.
“I’ve conjured them from magic so I don’t have to clean them, but they really are just robes.” The woman raised an arm and trailed a finger across the fabric with her other hand. It rippled at her touch, like waves in a pond, but there was nothing extraordinary about the fabric. “Just like that strip of cloth around your waist.”
Morgan approached, speaking to Avalon through their shared link. She’s telling the truth, the clothes I’m wearing are of similar construction. The woman cast a glance between the two and the air blurred for a moment, with the faint sound of rustling leaves. When the woman saw Morgan’s frown, she only smiled. She knows of our link, perhaps she can hear it as well. We must be careful.
“Daggert, darling, you didn’t tell me your friends had such a talent for magic.” The elderly woman turned to face a woman clad all in black, who trudged out of the Guildhall.
“If she’s tamed the white stag, then I don’t see why she wouldn’t have some talent for magic.” Daggert stood behind the elderly woman and glanced suspiciously at their surroundings, as if the woman could hide her from view. “I don’t like being out here, too many eyes. We should head inside.”
The woman in black was clearly agitated, wary of her surroundings. Did she suspect an attack? Avalon gestured to the white stag. “Hippolytus has a bounty on his head, does he not? I will not leave his side.” Hippolytus sniffed and dragged a hoof across the road.
“Consider the bounty cleared. The reward is yours, but Daggert is correct in her fears. Word will be reaching your lord father sooner rather than later. Rest assured-” Eugenia directed her attention to any on-lookers, her voice booming into the air despite her withered frame. It couldn’t be anything but magic projecting her voice, but the weight of authority was hers alone. “Any travelers, including their mounts, are under my supervision and protection. Any attack on them will be considered an attack on the guild.”
With that declaration, Avalon followed Eugenia into the Guildhall. Beyond a pair of oak doors, reinforced by steel and the barest whiff of magic, was a spacious reception area where the guild received most of its guests. Similar to the central hall at the ranger station, before it burned down. Eugenia explained that if Avalon wanted to collect his bounty the official way, he’d have to go through one of the receptionists.
“But seeing you as you are, they might not have been willing to give you anything.” Eugenia finished and made her way up a flight of stairs.
Avalon followed and he felt eyes watching him from all around. Some pretended not to look, but others were overt in their gaze. A man waved and winked at him, but the man beside him laughed when Avalon returned a scowl in his direction.
All those eyes made him uneasy. Avalon left Morgan to watch over Hippolytus at the guild’s stables, but it meant he was walking alone into Eugenia’s den. Even without Hippolytus to strengthen his magic, he could sense that magic was thicker in the air the closer he walked to her private office.
Avalon trailed behind, allowing the adventurers to move ahead of him, and he stopped at the boundary to her office. A doorway, enchanted with a spell. It glowed with a faint blue, but the others stepped over the threshold without worry.
With the butt of his spear, Avalon tapped at the floor beneath the doorway. Green magic sparked against blue and the spear’s shaft could not pass beyond the boundary. As opposed to his foot, which passed through without consequence.
When he looked up, he saw Eugenia watching him. A smile returned to her face, but he caught the faintest glimmer of a wolf’s curiosity behind her eyes. She waved a hand and the magic disappeared from the doorway.
“The door is enchanted to prevent magical contraband from entering the room, but I will allow this one exception. As long as you behave.”
Avalon stepped into the office, surrendering himself to Eugenia’s mercy. But with his spear in hand, she was surrendering herself to his mercy in turn. Of which, there was little. There would be blood at the slightest provocation.
“There’s no bed.” Avalon noted.
“Afraid not, I do most of my sleeping at my desk these days.” Eugenia laughed, having made what Avalon half-suspected was an attempt at humor.
The room was richly decorated with trinkets of precious metals and jewels, each emanating magical energy of different kinds. If a kitchen was a room where food was cooked, equipped with a stove and other workstations cooks used for their work, what kind of room was Eugenia’s office? It had the extravagant display of wealth that Harold maintained for his throne room, where he received his visitors while he held court.
Eugenia’s office was secluded by comparison. Beyond the reception area, which was finely furnished in its own right, the office could only receive small groups at a time. Not an effective use of the precious trinkets that Eugenia put on display, but Avalon’s estimation. If they were in Harold’s courtroom, the trinkets would bring awe to his visitors, Avalon was certain.
Perhaps the woman truly slept at her desk. If she sat in her chair and rested her head against the hard wood of the desk, it was possible, but not comfortable. There were books stacked on the desk, with covers of soft leather. She could rest her head on those easily enough.
“Those are the books I’ve been reading recently. You may flip through if you’d like, while I prepare my paperwork.” Eugenia said as she opened a drawer and filed through thin sheets of processed wood. The so-called paperwork. “It will take some time to find the right papers, so you all might take a seat and make yourselves comfortable.
The adventurers seated themselves on the chairs placed around the desk. Festus groaned about the small size of his chair until Avalon surrendered his own seat and pushed the two together, so Festus would calm himself. The man was thankful and offered Avalon a seat on his knee. Meribeth slapped his arm and muttered something about decency, as if kindness was indecent.
Avalon might’ve taken him up on the offer, but he was seated during his entire journey from the north. He needed to stretch his legs and remain vigilant, in the event of an attack, but one of the books caught his eye. Resting his spear against his shoulder, Avalon removed a book with a brown leather cover from the stack on the desk.
Along the book’s width, where its flaps connected, there was a tree of solid emerald embedded into a golden circle. It glimmered in the sunlight beaming through the window and the sight reminded Avalon of home, a thing more precious than gems or yellow metal. He opened the cover and flipped through the pages, hoping to find more pictures of trees, but there were only rows upon rows of dark markings.
He handed the book to Festus and asked, “Do you know how to read this?”
“What? Of course I know how to read. What do you think I am, some dumb brute?”
Avalon didn’t deny the question, it would’ve been a lie, but he confessed his own shortcomings instead. “None of this makes sense.”
Festus flipped through the book and laughed. “It does not make sense to me either!”
Daggert pulled the book from Festus and flipped through the book. “Don’t you know how to read? This is simple stuff. A collection of information regarding the wild plants found in the North.” She asked in disbelief. “Aren’t you noble brats all supposed to learn how to read from your tutors?”
“That’s usually how it goes.” Meribeth muttered with a wry smile.
Ryman gestured to Daggert and she handed him the book to flip through himself. “To be fair, this text is incredibly dry.”
“It’s an encyclopedia, what did you expect?” Shana slapped Ryman’s shoulder as she chuckled, but he only smiled at the light tap. “When was the last time you read an encyclopedia that was exciting?”
“I don’t really read. My tutors were overly aggressive with their punishments, as if they could beat knowledge into me. It put me off the whole idea of reading for fun.”
Shana cleared her throat and went quiet, suddenly uncomfortable. “Sounds rough.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Harold said tutors were going to be called back to the castle, but I will not be there when they arrive.” Avalon turned to Eugenia, who was deliberately stalling for time to listen to their conversation. “You know what I require, yes?”
“You want access into the Royal Dungeon, but you need patronage from the guild.” Eugenia pulled a piece of paper from a drawer and placed it on the desk in front of Avalon. “For that, you sought the white stag in the north and subjugated it. A valid excuse for my sponsorship.”
“What is this?” Avalon said and stared at the paper, the markings on its face meaning very little.
“A contract that will bind us together, legally speaking.”
“Like a pact?” Avalon wasn’t sure he liked the sound of forming a pact with a human.
“Nothing so serious. Just a formal request to be admitted as a member into the guild. You will receive the protections afforded to members, but will also be expected to uphold the guild’s code of honor.”
Avalon tapped the paper with his finger, but there was no magic that could bind him to the pact. Only human law, less substantial than humans themselves. “And this will allow me access to the Dungeon?”
“Not by itself.”
“My reward-” Avalon began to say, but Eugenia silenced him with a fat bag of jingling coins.
“That is your true reward, the bounty for dealing with the threat to the roads north. Entry into the guild is a formality for my patronage, to sponsor your enrollment. The first step towards earning the privilege to enroll into the Royal Academy, let alone entering the Royal Dungeon.”
Avalon narrowed his eyes, the wolf had revealed itself at last. He could see the hunger in Eugenia's eyes. “Then, what do you want in exchange for your sponsorship?”
Eugenia rose from her seat and slid a device from the corner of the room, its four wheels supporting the weight of a totem topped by a magical orb. She placed her palm over the orb and Avalon felt it drawing magic from her as it glowed the same vibrant white as her robes. “This artifact measures what kind of magic someone has, as well as how much. Can you place your hand on it?”
“Will you help me enroll into the Academy?”
“Place your hand on the orb and we shall find out.”
Avalon did as she requested and the orb glowed with a soothing golden color, like the magic of the Evergreen, before becoming tinged with green magic of the forest in the north. “What does this mean?” He asked, but Eugenia showed as much curiosity as he felt.
“My magic made the orb glow white, because it naturally drifts towards the attribute of lightning. I thought yours might be the golden light of the sun, but it’s mixed with the green of nature. Perhaps you can do both?”
Meribeth stood from her seat and grabbed one of Avalon’s hands to stare into his eyes with amazement. “Aurora, do you see what this means? Your attribute is unique, the magic of the sun!”
“It's mixed with the nature attribute, but close enough.” Eugenia added.
“Mages are prized for their power, if you distinguish yourself you can find work for any of the noble houses. Practically guaranteed, especially since you have a unique attribute.”
Avalon didn’t care for what the noisy, plump human was yapping on about. “But what does this mean for my goal? Will this help me get into the Dungeon?”
“Of course!” Meribeth exclaimed, but caught herself. She looked at Eugenia for support. “R-Right?”
Eugenia nodded her head. “Yes, you can expect patronage from the guild. In fact, I will personally sponsor your enrollment. Though be warned, your actions will become my actions. Any shame that befalls you will naturally fall on me as well. So you best behave.”
A man ran into the office, “Master Eugenia, Lord Longfirth is out front and he’s pissed!” An explosion rocked the Guildhall and dust trickled from the ceiling where a crack formed.
Eugenia leapt from her seat as she exclaimed, “What fresh hell is this?”
She rushed out of the office, a long rod of steel materializing in her hands. Avalon and the adventurers followed after her, and he saw other adventurer’s huddled behind windows. Crossbows ready and buckets of bolts nearby. Another explosion rocked the building and one of the adventurers loosed a bolt out the window.
“Stay your weapons!” Eugenia commanded and left the safety of the Guildhall to confront Harold, the Lord of Longfirth.
Outside, Avalon found Harold had surrounded the front of the building with his household guard, commanding from atop his horse. Spearmen were jabbing their spears towards Hippolytus and corralled him towards the steps leading to the Guildhall, but he clashed against the spearheads with his antlers when one of his rear hooves tapped against the bottom few steps behind him. Morgan was beside him with a couple of adventurers, weapons drawn and staring down Gunnar, but they were slowly being pushed back as well. Unwilling to meet Gunnar’s challenge.
When the old warrior saw Avalon, his face softened for only a moment, before it twisted into rage. “Harold! She’s here, these bastards took her!” He charged at Morgan and the adventurers braced to receive his charge. Avalon leaped forward, pushing past Morgan, and parried Gunnar’s swing with his spear. The clash on metal rang out through the street, before it was smothered by the silence that followed.
“Put away your weapons. If Harold wants me, I’m right here.” Avalon declared and Gunnar stepped away, glancing nervously at Harold. Unsure of what to do.
Harold leapt from his horse, ran to Avalon, and grabbed him by the shoulders, but Avalon pushed him away. It surprised him for a moment, but red rage was building on his face. “What did she do to you?” Eugenia descended from the front stairs to the entrance and Harold roared at her for answers, “Eugenia! Why did you take my daughter?”
“The Adventurer’s Guild is not in the habit of stealing young girls from their families. Lady Aurora came to us! She asked for our protection!” Eugenia spoke to the on-lookers in the street as much as she spoke to Harold.
He realized as much when he looked around and color began to drain from his face. “This can’t be true. Rora, say it isn’t so. Why would you need protection?”
Eugenia spoke before Avalon could. “Because you intend to sell her to merchants!”
Harold shut his eyes as he rubbed at his temples with a shaky hand, but his eyes opened wide and bulged from his face as he spoke with cold fury. “For that reason you’ve shamed us? After everything I’ve done for you, this is what you decide to do? To put our family in jeopardy?” Harold swayed as he stepped away, but breathing shaky from the rage simmering just beneath his calm facade. Avalon wasn’t sure if Harold would turn and try to strike at him in anger, but Harold pulled himself onto his horse and called out as he kicked his horse into a slow trot. “If this is the path you’ve chosen, then go. I will not stop you. No more betrothal, but no more protection. Do you understand? You are no longer my daughter!”
Meribeth gasped and ran to envelop Avalon in a tight embrace, murmuring soft words of encouragement while sobbing into Avalon’s chest, as if Harold’s anger was directed at her instead. Eugenia placed a hand on Avalon’s shoulder, to turn him and envelop him in an embrace. “I’m sorry, child, that must have been difficult, but we’ll get through this. You have a promising future as a mage ahead of you, nobody can take that at least.”
Avalon met Eugenia’s eyes and watched the woman’s face harden, regaining her composure. He understood the reason for Meribeth’s sadness, but that didn’t mean he had to share in her human emotions. Harold was a problem that solved itself, now he wanted what Eugenia promised him. The guild’s patronage.