Thorfinn didn’t attend the going away party for the demons. He was busy cataloging the events of the battle with his magic. There was a limit to how far back in time he could see before the past became fuzzy for lack of a better word. He was running himself magically ragged, trying to make sure he recorded everything that happened and journaled it appropriately for the First Princess’ review. After successfully chronicling the battle at the gatehouse, he worked his way backward.
The Patriarch was the focus of his investigation, so he followed them backward through time to the point where Tyr and his disciples and the survivors from the estate planned their assault on the gatehouse. There used to be an escape tunnel that they used to get quite a few of their people out before collapsing it. The odd thing wasn’t that, though; it was the size of the chimera familiar. It was massive, easily large enough to carry a wagon, and after he saw further back in time, it did pull a wagon.
“What in the Infernal Planes?” Thorfinn questioned as he rubbed his chin.
He saw the original owner of the familiar, a woodentail wendigo girl. If he hadn’t already been informed that she was the Shai daughter of the Salstar house, he would never have guessed she was a wizard. He could tell she was an arcanist from her fighting style, but she used water magic with decent efficacy. Something about her caught his attention, especially after she had pulled Joha to the side.
This form of divination magic was his creation. It allowed him to see into the past but not hear anything. However, when he saw the familiar write the word aether on the ground, he knew he had to start reading lips. The visions he projected, especially with it being a few weeks in the past, were cloudy, so to speak. He could make people out, but not with the level of detail that would allow him to read lips without focusing his magic entirely on the small group instead of the entire clearing.
“What were you three talking about?” Thorfinn said to himself as the magic disengaged.
He had to stop and restart the spell anytime he wanted to move it to cover a new space. It is what made chronicling the battles such a difficult thing to do. The magic wasn’t simple, and he doubted anyone else could do it. At times like this, when he just needed to focus the spell, he wished he had an apprentice. Then, all he would need to do is stabilize the new zone.
“Well, in theory anyway,” he grumbled.
He replayed the conversation, positioning the crystals to form a triangle in the right spot so that only the three figures were in the divination magic. They came through as clearly as if he were standing next to them. He nearly dropped his notes when he started reading Freja’s lips.
She mentioned that she was The Sage of the Infernal and explained how she was granted the ability to become a greater Wendigo. She had mental projection magic and skill sheets more commonly associated with cultivators. None of it made any sense. Why would the Salstars perform a Shiagaunt on the only Wendigo Sage for over two thousand years?
“That is not possible,” Thorfinn whispered in disbelief. “But how would she know about the Herne Hunter? I am not even supposed to know about that.”
He stopped and rewound the conversation as many times as needed to ensure he transcribed every word. This was something he had to tell Sigrun about immediately. Freja was supposedly dead, or at least that’s what was said to them by the... demon woman. Wait, he had only ever seen the demon woman during the battle at the gatehouse, not before. He didn’t even see her in the clearing during the battle here before he shrunk the zone.
The demoness Sif had some features of the wendigo, namely the antlers, but she didn’t feel like a wendigo to his or Sigrun’s magical senses. Her maya didn’t quite feel like maya either, which to him was like a blank space in the ambient mana around everyone else. Magic casters couldn’t sense the enigmatic energy in the same way arcanists and demons couldn’t sense mana. However, now that he thought about it, he had seen Sif cast spells with vocalizations, something that arcanists didn’t do.
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“I won’t be able to chronicle the battle at the Isi estate and follow this lead,” Thorfinn said to himself. “I can’t let this one go.” He looked at the frozen image of Freja. “What are you?”
Thorfinn burst into the meeting room with a journal tightly clutched. Everyone turned to the commotion. First, Princess Sigrun, the new Lord of the Domain Erik Jewel, and his father Vidar Tujewli were in the middle of a discussion. He walked up to the First Princess and bowed his head. He did not know or frankly care what they were talking about; what he had to tell the Princess was the priority.
“What is it, Left Hand?” Sigrun said, seeing the urgency in his actions and body language.
“Your Majesty, I need to speak with you alone,” Thorfinn stated dutifully but with enough edge that she knew it was something that could not wait.
Vidar cut in. “We were in the middle of—”
Sigrun raised her hand, and he fell silent. “I apologize, gentlemen, but we will have to reschedule this meeting until after I have spoken with my Hand.”
“Does this have something to do with the domain?” Erik questioned. “Pardon me, Your Majesty, but I will have every right to know if that is the case.”
“This is a private matter for only the ears of the First Princess,” Thorfinn stated coldly. “Watch yourself, Erik.”
“That is enough. Vidar, Erik, we will continue our conversation later,” Sigrun stated, with no room for them to rebut.
After the father and son pair left the room, the Princess offered Thorfinn a seat.
“They were more aggressive than normal,” Thorfinn said, thumbing back towards the door.
Sigrun smiled knowingly. “Erik is just nervous about his new responsibilities. He will be in charge of one of the wealthiest domains in the Kingdom. Of course, I will be here for who knows how long. I am considering making this our home base. That is a conversation for another day. What news did you bring me?”
“We need to find Joha and Freja,” Thorfinn said with a grave tone, handing Sigrun his journal, his eyes never leaving her face.
“Freja the Shai? Wasn’t she killed, according to Sif?” Sigrun asked, her voice tinged with curiosity as she began to read through the report. “I don’t see why finding her body would—” Her eyes widened as she reached the part Thorfinn had been waiting for. “What is this?”
Sigrun was quiet for a long time as her eyes darted across page after page with increased urgency. Thorfinn was sure not to disturb her as she flipped through the pages again. On the fourth read, she set down the document and tapped her temple with her right hand—a telltale sign that she was deep in thought.
“Have you shown this to anyone?” Sigrun asked.
“No, of course not.”
The notebook abruptly caught fire and burned to ash in less than a second. Then, even the ash faded into oblivion. Thorfinn’s eyes widened in surprise, but before he could react, Sigrun started to laugh. At first, it was a soft, disbelieving chuckle, but it grew louder and more hysterical. She leaned back in her chair and wiped a tear from her eye.
“I can’t believe it. The coming of the Greater Wendigo Sage, and she just sat in front of us and let me call her a demon,” Sigrun said through residual giggles, shaking her head. “The Salstar’s greatest achievement, and they just threw her away. If they had known what she was... forget taking Lavi, she could have taken the throne.”
“What should we do?” Thorfinn asked.
“They have only been gone for a few days. Send word to the border to stop any demons that match her and Joha’s description,” Sigrun commanded, her tone sharp and decisive. “I will make her the crown jewel of my ascension to the throne of Yuhia before my brothers or sisters find out what she is.”
“Wouldn’t that essentially make her a prisoner of the throne?”
“Prisoner is a harsh way of putting it, Thorfinn, I will give her a title befitting a greater wendigo, land, and have her marry my son. She will work with me to improve all wendigo. She said she was a cernunnos; I have not heard of that species, but the Forest Father has blessed us all. Let’s make sure that blessing does not slip through our fingers.”
Thorfinn knew the First Princess would do whatever it took to secure her place on the throne of Yuhia. She was willing to fight for Lavi despite the death it would have wrought. One girl’s freedom was a much smaller price to pay.
“Of course, Siggy,” Thorfinn said while he nodded along. “I will send word immediately.”
“Good, and you know what? Send Signe to the border and have her secure it for my arrival,” Sigrun stated, her sorcery magic pulsing with her heart, growing brighter and more intense. “Freja should come willingly since she has already helped our cause. Still, it will be better for me to convince her personally. We cannot lose her.”
Thorfinn stood up, bowed deeply, and walked to the door. “As you wish.”