Introduction

Stella Fennel of Estra was a hero.

A hero not just of her day, but of ages afterward. All throughout the land of Evermor, they told stories of her greatness—how she tamed dragons in their lairs, killed men with a single stroke, and seduced magical princes and princesses from foreign lands. They said that she was six feet tall and as beautiful as the sun, that she wore glittering armor and fought with a sword of silver. She was rumored to be descended from the goddess Estra herself; although some dissenters years later claimed that she truly was a follower of the cult of Ria, the patron goddess of her tiny hometown in the Estran hills. Others said she was the reincarnation of Lianna, the great warrior woman of Evermoran antiquity. Still more said she was a dragon woman, or a fairy, or a mermaid who had grown legs and learned to walk on land.

Such tales are rarely true. But that does not mean that Stella in her lifetime was not great. She may have been a mere human—and that she was—but her name was not on the lips of a nation. She touched the lives of the people around her. She was never forgotten by those who knew her and even, to a certain extent, those who did not. To this day, she lives in the memory of the Evermorans, as well as some who live beyond the sea.

Have you heard her name? Have you heard tell of her splendid deeds?

Perhaps you have not. You belong to a different world, a world with its own heroes and its own legends. But you know what legends are. You know that they trickle down from mouth to mouth, ear to ear over the centuries. You know they are fantastic—quite literally, the stuff of legends. Most importantly, you know that they are lived experiences. Once, they were witnessed through the eyes of our ancestors. Once, legends lived and breathed and spoke with others. And they left their mark on the memories of those who saw and those who heard.

In order to understand the life of Knight Stella, we shall have to join in on not just her journey, but the journeys of those around her. Listen close, and we shall hear all of their stories.

This is the legend of Stella. Now, let's get to the story.

Date: 1185 E.Y.

Told as witnessed by Elden, the Baker’s Son

    Even at the tender age of thirteen, Stella had the courage of a warrior.

    Well, if you could call it "courage." Most of the people who lived in the village of Rowan called it something else. "Idiocy" was a common one. So were "impropriety," "unseemliness," and even "vulgarity.” By the time she reached her teens, Stella Fennel had been called every name in the book. And, for the most part, Elden Burr was all in favor of it. He'd decided long ago that there was something terribly wrong with her. She was odd, had always been odd, and would always be odd. But she wasn't necessarily harmful. As long as she stayed out of his business and allowed him to maintain his spotless reputation as an esteemed baker's boy, he tolerated her.

    He certainly didn't ask for her interference that fateful day at the market. If only she'd kept her overlarge nose out of his business, he could have handled it all himself. But, alas. She was meddlesome by nature—a pest, really.

    It all began when Elden was at the miller's shop, buying some flour for his parents' bakery. He was just standing there, doing calculations in his head as he tried to figure out whether it would be cheaper to buy two larger sacks or four smaller sacks (and whether he could get away with saving a few extra copper pieces for himself, just so that he could buy some sweetmeats on the way home), when he felt a hand clap itself over his mouth. Before he could even exclaim, "Great Estra!" he'd already been pulled into the alleyway behind the shop.

    Somehow, he knew he would find himself facing Jerod and his friends when he opened his eyes. And he was right. The big, burly blond was glaring at him expectantly, the eyes of his goons gleaming behind him in the shadows of the alley. He was a frightening figure. There was a reason why he was called the “Menace of Rowan,” after all. 

    "Cough up," said Jerod. He held out a meaty hand.

    Elden feigned innocence. "What...whaddya mean?"

    Jerod rumbled in a threatening sort of way. "Don't play dumb with me, kid. I won that game, fair and square. I know you've got the coin. If you give me what you owe me, I'll take it from you."

    "I'll give it to you! I swear it!" Elden squeaked. He was trembling from head to toe. Partly from annoyance—he didn't like being called a "kid" by someone who was only two or three years older than him, even if Jerod was was nearly a foot taller. But, for the most part, the trembles came from fear. "Look!" Elden cried, digging around in his pockets and pulling his hands out empty. "Please, I don't have any money right now, but I'll pay you back soon, I promise!"

    Regrettably, it was a lie—Elden's parents had sent him to the miller's shop with just enough money for flour—and Jerod seemed to sense that, too. He narrowed his eyes at Elden's pockets. "Now, that's a goddess-damned lie, if I ever heard one," he spat. "I can hear them jangling round in your pockets. Come on, boys. Let's turn those pockets out and get our money."

    And before Elden even realized what was happening, Jerod and his minions had taken him in their rough hands and were tipping him upside down. Coins came spilling of his pockets, clattering onto the cobblestone street.

    "Just take them!" Elden cried. "Take them all! But don't hurt me, please!"

    "A tall order, from someone who tried to cheat us out of our money and then lied about it to our faces," Jerod declared. Elden could almost hear the sneer on his face. The other boys cackled in agreement.

    Elden was on the ground, surrounded by tall, shadowy figures. He couldn't move. He couldn't move. He couldn't do anything but lie there, face up, looking up at the sky. It was a clear day. So clear, in fact, that Elden wondered why no one had seen what was happening in the alleyway. Yes, the alley was dark and somewhat obscured from the view of shoppers at the market, but it was a small town. Surely somebody would come by soon and help him out a little?

    Jerod raised a heavy-looking boot and held it poised over Elden's face. Elden knew it would hurt. It might even break his nose. Ah, his nose. Alas, it would never be the same.

    But the boot never came down. Or, rather, it did, but not on Elden's face. And that was because at that moment, a clear voice rang out from the end of the alleyway. A voice clearer than the day.

    "What in Estra's name are you doing?"

    A woman's voice, unfortunately. Even worse, the voice of a young girl. Elden turned his face to the side and could just barely make out a female figure standing at the end of an alleyway. He almost groaned. It was just his luck.

    "It's none of your business," Jerod growled. "Run along, little girl, or you'll be next."

    "I'll 'run along' if you leave him alone!"

    Girls. Could they possibly be any stupider?

    "I said, run along! Or you'll be next!" An evil smile came to Jerod's face, which Elden could just barely see from his spot on the ground. "Mark my words," said Jerod, "we'll have a lot of fun with you. If you choose to stay, that is."

    "All right, that's it." And, to Elden's utter disbelief, the girl actually came storming down the alley toward him, Jerod, and the others. A few of Jerod's goons immediately left his side and rushed toward the girl, but, surprisingly, they didn't make it far. The first, she tripped with her foot and sent flying. The second, she kicked between the legs. The third--well, Elden couldn't see what happened to him, but he ended up clutching his mouth, moaning something about teeth.

    After that, there were only two left standing at the ready, including Jerod. The girl didn't even break her stride. Leaving the incapacitated minions behind her, she aimed a punch directly at Jerod's mouth.

    Elden could now see her face, and he recognized her instantly. It was Stella Fennel, that bizarre girl who lived up the hill in Fennel Manor with her knight father and her terrifying mother. What a vulgar bitch, thinking she could just storm in here and interrupt the private business of men! It didn't even occur to Elden that she was saving his behind.

    Unfortunately for her, she was no match for the brutish Jerod. He caught her fist before it ever reached his face. She gritted her teeth, sweat beading on her brow, but he was much stronger than her. He laughed as he shoved her into his one remaining minion, who wrestled her arms behind her back and held her, quivering with unwomanly rage, in front of Jerod.

    "You're a feisty one, aren't you?" Jerod said, leering at her. "Well, that'll change, once I'm through with you."

    As much as Elden agreed that something should be done about this girl's obnoxious temper, he was tired of all of this. When Stella Fennel spat in Jerod's face, Elden took advantage of the momentary distraction to roll onto his stomach, wrap his wrists around Jerod's ankles, and tug at them as hard as he could. To his surprise, it worked; Jerod came crashing down.

    Elden leaped to his feet. He could see escape right in front of him; he just had to run fast enough. His parents wouldn't be happy about the loss of money, but at least his nose would still be intact. Maybe he'd consider stealing the flour, if only to avoid prying questions.

    Behind him, he heard Stella, who was still struggling with the goon who had her in his grip, scream, "Hey! You're not going to help me?"

    But she must not have needed Stella's Elden's help, because a moment later, she'd caught up with him, apparently having broken free from her captor. To Elden's great irritation, she kept running right behind him. He could practically feel her breath on his ears.

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    Only when he'd reached the grassy outskirts of town did he feel safe enough to slow down. Gasping, he fell into a walk. Annoyingly, he could hear Stella trailing him. Even more annoyingly, she was only barely out of breath.

    He whirled around to face her. He couldn't hold back his rage any longer. "What are you still here for?" he spat. "Go away!"

    Stella wrinkled her nose. "You know, a simple 'thank you' would be enough. If I hadn't gotten there in time, your nose would be broken! Honestly, you might not have even HAVE a nose anymore, if I hadn't saved you!"

    For some reason, that little comment about the nose made Elden even angrier. "And what about it? It was none of your business. We were just sorting something out between us, man to man. It wasn't your place to get involved."

    "What? So you'd rather I'd have just walked on by and let you get beaten to a pulp?"

    Elden clenched his teeth and stuck out his chin. "Maybe I would. Besides, it's not like he would've beaten me to a pulp."

    Stella laughed, but it seemed more disbelieving than amused. "All right, then. Forget it. I don't know why I did such an idiotic thing for someone who wouldn't appreciate it."

    "Me neither. It was an idiotic thing to do, on your part. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to carry on my business, and I'd appreciate it if you stopped following me around. Go back to rolling in the mud, or whatever you were doing before this."

    Stella rolled her eyes and let out a short, exasperated huff. With a toss of her long, obscenely frizzy hair, she stormed off somewhere. Elden didn't care enough to wonder where she was going, or even to wonder why she went out and about so often without a chaperone.

    A hand clapped over his mouth, and all of the fear that had been gradually draining away from Elden's body came back into an instant.

    "You're going to follow her,and you're going to report back to us," said Jerod. "Now that your debt is paid,  we'll consider sparing your pathetic little nose as long as you help us catch that damned harlot."

    Elden nodded. As scared as he was, he was happy to help them out. Stella had thoroughly humilated him today, and he would be happy to see the tables turn.

    "Good," said Jerod. "She'll get what she deserves."

***   

    After a few days of stealthily loafing around Stella's father's grounds, Elden discovered that the girl seemed to enjoy taking nightly strolls, usually between ten and eleven PM. As soon as he figured it out, he ran straight to Jerod. And that was why, on a warm summer night, he found himself crouching behind a rhododendron bush with Jerod and some of the other village boys.

    "This is boring," whined Kerrin, a particularly sullen and impatient boy. "What are we planning to do to her, anyway?"

    "Shh," Jerod hissed. "We'll get to that when we get there. For now, we just need to shut up and wait."

    Elden couldn't see a thing, but he thought he could feel Jerod's beedy little eyes on him.

    "She is coming, isn't she? We're not just waiting over here for nothing."

    "She's coming," Elden confirmed, although his voice was trembling. He hated to think what Jerod would do to him if Stella decided not to take her nightly walk today. 

    Fortunately for him, the sound of approaching footsteps soon became audible, and all the boys fell silent. It was quite a dark night, the moon and the stars already having been obscured by clouds, but Elden could just barely see her figure silhouetted in front of the glimmering lights in the windows of Fennel Manor. Elden wondered if those lights would get them in trouble. Yes, they were still technically on Fennel property, but surely they were far enough away from the house that no one see them, right?

    Stella took long, purposeful strides, despite being on a mere evening stroll. Elden wished rather spitefully that she could just take short, dainty steps, the way other women--real women--did. At least, he thought that how real women walked. Come to think of it, he didn't know all that many women, aside from his mother. And his mother never, ever walked daintily. She often had to rush this way and that to keep the kitchen in order. But she was an exception, clearly.

    Someone tugged on Elden's shoulder. "Get ready," Jerod whispered. "And...now!"

    Boys streamed out of the bushes on either side of the thin, dirt pathway; Jerod had gotten together at least eight of them. Everyone wanted to have a go at the girl who'd humiliated them. She had a habit of humiliating men. A bad, dreadful, nasty habit that would probably get her killed one day. (We know now that it did not, although it would cause her its fair share of problems.)

    The girl squeaked in surprise, but a moment later somebody had clapped a hand over her mouth. Elden knew it wasn't his hand, but he could just barely see the shapeless hand in the darkness. He could also hear Stella's muffled, unintelligible protests. 

    "Get her!" Jerod cried rather uselessly.

    Elden and the other boys managed to wrestle her down to the ground, but it was a struggle. Stella was kicking and thrashing in every direction. It was all Elden could do to grab hold of her arm and not lose his grip. She was ridiculously strong.

    "Somebody cut off her circulation!" Jerod shouted. "That'll do the trick."

    Apparently Kerrin made an attempt, but he yelped a moment later. "Ow!"

    "Quiet!" Jerod hissed.

    "She bit me!"

    But it was too late. Elden could see a lamp bobbing in the darkness. It wasn't too far away, and it was getting closer.

    "Uh, Jerod..." he began.

    Jerod didn't hear him. Either that, or he didn't care. "For Estra's sake, give up!" he growled at Stella. "We've got you! And we're going to make you pay!"

    "What's all this?"

    Elden recognized the voice immediately. It was the voice of Geller, the village swordmaster—and, now that he thought about it, the head watchman at Fennel Manor, too. In fact, that was his principle job; he didn't even make money as a swordmaster.

    All the other boys seemed to recognize voice, too; they made a frantic attempt to escape, scattering in all directions and leaving Stella lying there in the dust.

    But it was too late. Geller was already there, shining the light of his lamp on the whole scene. Every last boy's face was visible in its glow.

    "Now, just where do you think you're going?"

    Elden and the other boys quailed at the coldness in his voice. Geller was one of the few people who could scare even the roughest of the village boys, including Jerod. A big, rugged man who was rumored to have once worked as a mercenary, Geller gave free afternoon lessons in swordsmanship to the boys who couldn't afford private lessons, and he'd always made it clear that he could easily overpower any boy who chose to misbehave. 

    "I know all of you, and if you take one step further, your parents are going to hear about this."

    Elden was frightened by the disgust in Geller's voice.

    The boys watched in silence as Geller bent down and helped Stella to her feet. The girl was unhurt, but quivering all over. Her face, usually so irritatingly confident, was gray and terrified. Elden had never seen her look like this. For a moment, he felt sorry for her. But then he remembered that she deserved it.

    "I have some things to say to you all," said Geller, shaking a finger at the boys, "and some punishments to give out. But for now, I'm just going to give you a warning. If you ever touch this girl again"—he gestured at Stella—"there will be consequences. You can count on that."

    Elden could sense Jerod bristling beside him, but even he did not attempt to argue with Geller. The Menace of Rowan just turned around and stormed off into the night. The other boys slowly, reluctantly followed suit, but not without casting a few resentful glances back at Stella.

    Elden did not linger, but he didn't leave, either. After retreating into the shadows, he hid behind the rhododendron bush, the same one he'd been crouching in just a few minutes prior. He didn't know what made him stay. Perhaps he felt a little, tiny bit ashamed; after all, Geller was someone he respected greatly, certainly not someone he wanted to disappoint. Perhaps he was just curious to see what Geller would say next.

    "My lady," Elden heard Geller say. "Are you all right?"

    "I...I suppose I am." That was Stella's voice. "I'm as 'all right' as I could possibly be, considering the circumstances."

    Elden almost snorted. Typical.

    There was a short silence. Geller seemed at a loss for words. Finally, he said, "I'll deal with them tomorrow, I swear it. I won't let them get away with this, and I certainly won't let them hurt you again."

    "Thank you."

    "Is there anything else I can do for you, my lady?"

    It took another short moment for Stella to respond. Elden wished he could have seen her face. It seemed like she was really deliberating over something, which surprised Elden because he didn't think girls could think.

    When she finally spoke, her words sent a chill down Elden's spine.

    "I want you to teach me how to fight."

    Elden didn't know it then, but those words would change Evermor and the World at Large forever.

    He was witness to the birth of a legend, and all he could think about was his own pride.