Ohaine was excited to see how much Arun had changed over the years. When the car passed Betren, she could barely recognize it. The last time she was in that town, it was in chains, and now she was traveling inside the automobile of the most famous mage of the country.

With the clatter and noise that had accompanied the long journey from the plains, the car passed the mill farms and stopped just before crossing the river bridge.

“What now?” said Sheresade, one of the mage’s students.

“We need to refill the car.” Answered the chauffeur.

They all went down to stretch their muscles, including Master Azahara, who walked away searching for the supervisor of the road workers.

“I don’t mind having a break,” said Jair, the other apprentice. Master Azahara always surrounded herself with the most promising students or influential people. On that trip to Arun, the two lucky ones were her best. A terrible student with incredible raw power and a terrible mage with an incredible brain. Both from influential and well-connected families.

Sheresade, leaning on the hood of the car, snapped her fingers and a ball of fire bursted in front of her face. “You shouldn’t do that, miss.” said the driver.

“I won’t get burned. Thanks for your concern,” replied the girl. Glaring at the driver, Sheresade snapped her fingers again. The man, who had already experienced the tantrums of the apprentice during the long journey, looked down quietly. Ohaine took over.

“In the trunk, there are gallons of combustion fluid. you will make us all fly if you continue doing that.”

Sheresade stood and snapped her teeth. “At least you could do some flying, assistant.” The girl liked to remind Ohaine of her position all the time.

Once, she was meant to be a great mage. Nobody in Arun had been born with the mark in centuries, and when they found the mark under her hair, the people of the valley placed high expectations on her. She was going to be the best wizard ever, some said. The chosen one, said others.

They sent her to the Mage’s academy, but she never succeeded in being even a decent one. She was just a fraud, and she knew why. When her step sister talked about her witchcraft, the town got crazy. They took her to Isil, and she waited for days in a cell. There, alone and scared, a day before trial, a genie came to her aid. ‘It’s the only way to save you,’ it said.

She agreed. Of course she did. Having the mark was what she wanted the most since a kid. But that sigil in her head was nothing but ink. The most she ever accomplished was to move a feather a few centimeters. She tried with trinkets and magical items from the four elements,

but none of them ever worked. With time, all the hopes towards her vanished and after years of embarrassment, she ended up assisting the old keeper of the Library.

“The road ends on the other side of the pass. There is no way the car can reach the village.” complained Master Azahara, scowling at Ohaine. “If my assistant had made her job, we would have known earlier and dress accordingly for the walk.”

Sheresade’s upper lip curled when Ohaine entered the car. The girl enjoyed every single time Master Azahara complained about her failures. Ohaine didn’t mind. After all, she was not really good at her job, and it was the way Master Azahara pushed her to be a better assistant. Someone at the level of such an important mage as her.

They soon reached the pass. All the way up, there were workers cleaning and flattening the ground, but the road was not as good as the one from the planes to Isil. The earth under the wheels was full of bumps and gravel that made the car shake uncontrollably. The two students, especially Sheresade, spent the entire winding path to the top, grumbling and protesting. Master, lost in her thoughts, was looking through the window, taking the punishment stoically.

Although the trip was not as pleasant as they wished, it felt short. It amazed Ohaine how fast the car climbed the Giant’s seat. The mountain pass was no longer an obstacle to reach the once isolated Arun. The Eskun mountains, was an elongated mountainous range that reached the sea of Atiak at the west and the sea of Medis at the east and at each coast there was an easy way to cross south or north, so Ohaine, in all her travels following Master Azahara’s adventures, never had the chance to visit her home.

As they got closer to the top, her excitement grew. She wondered if the few people she knew well would be around, and how much they’d changed.

When they reached the valley, the car stopped at the end of the road. The construction was on hold at that point, and the workers were resting under the shade of a large tree. Master Azahara asked Ohaine to look for the person in charge and throw the others out of the vehicle. The two students had to change their city clothes in the bushes reluctantly and as they passed by Ohaine’s side, both leer at her with fiery eyes.

Ohaine was already dressed conveniently for a trek and didn’t waste a minute to look for the supervisor, a short and round man with a wrinkled face due years under the sun, who reluctantly followed her with his head bowed and a beret in his hands.

“It’s the church, ma’lady. The workers don’t dare to go close,” the chief said, with shame in his voice and fear in his eyes. Master Azahara’s gaze had that effect on others. Especially when she was irritated or furious.

The man excused his men a second time, but the mage didn’t bother. She took a staff and a bag from the backseat. “Tell these men to bring all our things to the village, promptly,” ordered her to the chauffeur. The supervisor bowed as if she was royalty and hastened to follow the car driver.

Ohaine looked at the outfit of her boss, with a feeling of pride. The mage, who always wore red silks, was now dressed in beige corduroy pants and a brown leather jacket, an almost identical outfit than hers except for the footwear.

Sheresade passed next to her and sneered. “You can’t stop being a bumpkin, huh?” Ohaine looked at her espadrilles. They were not as fancy as Master’s high boots, but they were comfortable and fit for the trek ahead. Wishing that Sheresade’s shoes would make a good sore in her feet, Ohaine hastened to catch Master Azahara.

The mage was mumbling words in a forbidden language, and the staff was slightly glowing. Ohaine remained silent. Master didn’t like to be interrupted when preparing spells. When Master Azahara was the perfect picture of power when working on her magic. Ohaine couldn't help but look at her in admiration.

the church was on top of a small hill not too far from where they left the car. The building was just a weed-engulfed ruin but it had a strange and somehow wicked aura that caused Ohaine some discomfort.

“I need to do some work here,” something that requires magic none of you are ready to see.” the mage said, barring their way with the staff. as if something told her that it was not wise for the rest to get closer.

“I thought we came to hunt some witches,” said Sheresade.

“One day, when you become a Grandmaster, you’ll understand that with the position, come many headaches you need to deal with. Sometimes many at the same time. This place is a headache I need to fix now. ”

None of the three moved. They all stared at the ancient walls, as if a mysterious power that still inhabited those ruins would not let them escape .“What I mean is that you go ahead, and I will follow you later,” Master Azahara's words felt like a spell that freed them from lethargy, and they all left the place with ease.

The way to the village was easy, and the weather was fantastic. The green of firs and pines intermingled with the yellows, oranges, and reds of deciduous trees. She took a deep breath of the aromas of wet forest and looked at the sun’s light reflected on the lake’s surface. Next to the shore, trying to stay as far as possible from the church, there were the driver and the road workers carrying the luggage at full speed.

“I wonder if these rumors are true or was just a ruse of her to come visit her hickish friends.” The two students talked softly, but even a few steps ahead, she heard them.

Jair's comment annoyed Ohaine. There were no rumors. The witches’ gathering was going to happen at the night of the next day. That would unleash evil forces that put Arun in danger. It happened before. The wolves were proof of it and, this time, it was the final blow to the Valley. The same genie that came once to help her needed help this time. If the valley magic felt, he’d fall with it.

Of course, Ohaine never told Master Azahara where the story came from. She said it was her village friends who denounced the witch meetings in the mountains. Master Azahara believed all without questioning. Soon after, she asked for permission to travel from the High Council.

“I don’t know why Master Azahara chose her. She is useless,” whispered Sheresade.

“Oh, you know why,” Jair said with a childish giggle.

“Oh, come on. Master could have any woman she wants. Beautiful and glamorous like her. Why would she ever want someone like her?”

Tired of listening, she left the two behind. She was used to mocherying, but she was home, and no one was going to spoil that moment. She fantasized of the welcome they’d receive in Endara. The town’s neighbours would not care about any foreigner, and Ohaine was not a popular girl in the valley. Since her parents died, she grew up with Loredi, a friend of her mother’s. Their home was in Goian and they used to spend all their time wandering in the wilds, looking for ingredients for ointments and medicines.

Her doubts didn’t stop her daydreams about the decorations all over the town square, people cheering and a band of music. After all, she was Arun’s blessed kid, and she was coming with one of the greatest mages of all time.

Her memories drifted to Loredi’s daughter, Argia. She was like a sister to her, and she was the one who told everyone about the witch-crafting. For many years, she received letters apologizing from her, but Ohaine never answered back. She was angry at first, but not anymore. She pictured in her mind the moment they would meet. The moment she’d meet Ipar as well. As she had done so many times, she imagined the conversations, each question, and its corresponding answer. Every word was planned.

The first person she saw after they left the church was one farmer, an unfamiliar old man carrying some vegetables. He didn’t find Ohaine’s face familiar either and he moved along minding his business without paying much attention to the trio.

Two houses later, almost reaching the village, they came across a couple of girls who were pushing each other and giggling. As soon as the girls noticed them, the smiles disappeared, and they walked away muttering with furrowed brows. Ohaine smirked. She felt that was more like Arun´s way to greet foreigners.

At the main square, there was no welcome, no music, no crowd. Just a few villagers walking up and down. Noone seemed familiar. Ohaine waved her hand and nodded to everyone who crossed their path, but no one greeted her back. She got a couple of contemptuous gaze and a couple more cheeky looks from head to toe. Disappointed, she leaned on the well.

Another fisherman checked on her from top to bottom and made her wonder. she had never considered herself pretty. In the city, who always raised the attention of any man was Master Azahara.

“You have grown a woman!” Ohaine turned, spooked by the shout. She waived timidly and received a strong cuddle as a response. Amane put her hands on her chicks. Ohaine tried to smile, although she only lifted her lips a little “You look great, aunty,” she lied. If Ohaine’s memory didn’t fail her, Amane hadn’t reached fifty. She still had that special beauty the young woman remembered, but the years didn’t treat her well. Her hair was gray and brittle, and big circles surrounded her eyes.

Amane waved her hand and shook her head. ”Don’t be silly,” said her, with half a chuckle.

“It’s been a long time,” continued Ohaine. Amane nodded and looked at her with a sense of pride in her eyes. She took a deep breath and gave her a kiss that took the girl by surprise.

“Too long, dear, too long. Come, let’s have tea inside.”

“We need to wait for my Master and the s-“

“Oh, yes, yes. About that. I tried to call, but the lines always get cut by who knows what.”

“Call me?”

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“Yes, I don’t have the inn anymore. Well, it’s not an inn. So I book you rooms somewhere else,” said Amane.

Sheresade snorted. Ohaine didn’t notice she was standing next to her. Soon after she introduced the two students, Master Azahara arrived, followed by the driver and the road workers. She received a couple of leering looks that she completely ignored, and as she was used to.

“That church won’t be a problem anymore”. The mage said with confidence.

Ohaine saw a slight tremor in her hand. Little shake that went unnoticed by others, but not by her. Master Azahara looked at her askance and immediately put her hand inside the pocket.

“Your assistant was telling us that the inn we were supposed to sleep in is no more,” Sheresade said.

“I’m exhausted, Ohaine. I cannot deal with more of your incompetence right now.” complained the Master mage.

Amane frowned. “Miss, it’s my fault, not hers. I didn’t notify her. But I’m pretty sure you will find your room in the lake’s inn more than-“

“Very well, very well. Make sure the workers bring our things there Ohaine, can you do that without messing it up?”

Ohaine nodded her head while Amane pointed the way to the mages. “Is she always like that?” whispered Amane when Master Azahara and the two students were far enough.

“Like what?”

“That… uh, piky,”

“It’s just that I used to mess up pretty often. It’s my fault,” said Ohaine with a smirk of sadness.

“Dear, no matter how much you mess up, don’t let anyone talk to you like that. If she doesn’t like how you work, she can fire you. She is your boss, not your owner.” Amane was right, Ohaine knew. But she also knew that if one day Azahara got rid of her, someone as inept as her would not find a better job.

“How is Uhaiz? Is he doing well?” asked Ohaine to move the conversation in another direction.

Amane tightened her lips. “I don’t really know, he spends all his time in the mountains.”

“How come? Is he a hunter now? What happened to the inn? I thought you were doing well, with all the wolves and huntsmen thing,”

“Long story. Well, the inn did well at first, but there are two more inns now. Nicer and cheaper.”

“I see. How are Loredi and Argia? Do they know I’m here?”

“Oh, you don’t know? I thought Argia wrote to you,” Amane saw the confusion on Ohaine’s stare and blew from her nose. “My sister disappeared not long after you went to the big city. She went to the woods like any other day and never came back.”

Ohaine froze, and Amane took her by the hand. “Oh, dear. You know my sister. She is somewhere fine. She knows the forest, and its beasts better than anyone else. And she knows a couple of tricks. You know,” Amane´s smirk gave the young woman a breath of hope.

“My sister left me a note and money to take care of Argia. She stayed with me until she was old enough to go study in the city. She writes sometimes.”

Ohaine started to drag her feet. Amane’s sadness rubbed off on her. The energy and positivity that cheered her every day suddenly vanished. Intrusive thoughts began to haunt her mind. Thoughts about how little he had accomplished as a mage or how mediocre she was as an assistant.. Suddenly, she was glad that her arrival passed unnoticed.

Her thoughts drifted towards Ipar. All the way to the valley, she was convinced to be ready to meet him, and now she was unsure she could face the man she left for a dream that wrecked.

“Is Ipar still around?” asked her timidly.

“Oh, well. He has been living in seclusion at home for, oh… how long? Two years, I think.”

That answer struck her. The Ipar she knew was a boy that loved the mountains, the river and the valley. A person who would never spend his time inside a hut.

“Ipar!” shouted Master before Ohaine asked further about him. “I forgot about the shepherd. I want to meet him tomorrow!”

Ohaine stopped again and Master had to turn to continue talking, “You know where he lives, right?”

“I...do,” mumbled her. “I don’t think is a good idea to-”

“Whatever provincial problems you may have with that shepherd, get over them. We are going to meet him, whether you like it, or not.” Without waiting for a complaint, the mage walked away. “Tomorrow early morning. No more failures from now on, Ohaine.”

The young woman nodded in silence. Amane put her hand over her shoulder. “Let’s meet when you are less busy, yes?” she said with warmth in her voice. Ohaine nodded again. “I’m proud of you girl,” Amane hugged her. Ohaine didn’t know how she could be proud of her. She was no one. But the hug and the words filled her heart.

When Amane left, she rushed to catch the rest. It didn’t take her a minute. They were all stopped in front of the lake’s wooden peer. There, many carcases and furs of animals were hanging all over the place. Two young hunters, both tall and blonde, were talking to Master Azahara ,excitedly.

“Very well, show me this dragon you have,” said the mage with a tone of disbelief.

In between piles of wolf skins and other animals , there was the corpse of the dragon. The body wasn’t as big as the old stories used to say. The size of a cow, but with the shape and skin of a lizard, with a long tail and a long neck. It only had two legs, connected to the thorax with membraned sort of wings. The head was exactly like that of a snake, although it had a mouth full of teeth .

The dragon was dead for days. Its eyes were white, and the smell was unbearable. Ohaine covered her nose.

Master Azahara grimaced. Not from disgust, but from disappointment. “Is this supposed to be my dragon?” The hunters stared at each other.

“I told you it was a wyvern, idiot.” whispered one of them.

“It… is… not… a….wyvern!”

“That’s what we call dragons in this land.” said an old man who was standing on his baton behind all of them. She recognized the geezer. One of the old time clients of the tavern, a retired lumberjack who was already old when she was a little girl. Although the old man glanced at her a couple of times, he did not recognize her.

“I don’t think we can get any magic from it. Shere, try to get anything useful. It’s a fire beast, your element.”

“Why do I have to dirt my hands?” complained the student. “Let your assistant do it!”

“If this thing has any magic left and you plan to use it, it’s your duty to find it! No one else,” snapped the Master mage out of patience.

“If you want a breathing big monster, you can look for the vibria.” Interrupted the old man.” I heard from other veneers there is a dangerous one around the Tartalo’s.”

“What’s a vibria?” asked one of the hunters.

“Is like a dragon, but it has a bird’s beak and bat’s wings.”

“He means a cockatrice,” pointed the other blonde man.

Master Azahara, visibly exhausted, left for the inn, leaving her students with the three men bragging about their beast’s knowledge.

Ohaine spent the rest of the day arranging luggage and supplies for the next morning. Before dinner, the students came inside the inn. Jair was covered in dragon’s blood but not Sheresade, who couldn’t hide the joy of having obtained a pair of fire glands, without even getting her hands a little dirty.

The next day, they were all ready as soon as the first lights filled the sky. Ohanie was the first to walk outside and had a little time to chat to Amane, who came to wish her luck, and bring some of her food for the trip. The two shared a big hug and as soon as everyone was ready, they departed.

Ohaine started the trip river up, leading the party, followed by the mage and the two students. The chauffeur followed, pulling a small donkey who did not seem to care the least about the large amount of packages it was carrying. Behind, closing the line, were two of the road workers, who agreed to join for a few coins and the two blonde hunters,who decided it was a good idea to follow them, in case they found a beast worth killing.

Among all, Ohaine counted a blunderbuss, two shotguns, a pistol, two spears, and possibly much more in the sacks and bags. They were well armed, but the most powerful weapon was undoubtedly Master’s staff. An old crafted wooden tool that enhanced Master’s powers extensively.

Master Azahara looked as strong as ever and her hand shake disappeared. “Master, can I ask you a question?” Asked Ohaine.

“I met your friend in Betren on my way to the Plains.” answered the mage. “That’s before I joined the council, and before I took you as my assistant.”

Ohaine found her boss's words surprising, but although he spent a while thinking how a simple shepherd could have gotten to know one of the greatest mages in the world, her thoughts soon turned exclusively to Ipar.

She had always known about his feelings for her. But there were feelings that she could not return the same way. Ipar was like a brother to her. Ohaine spent the entire journey wishing the shepherd had forgiven her for leaving without saying anything. She knew it was too much to ask. Even at the very moment that she did it, she knew it was wrong, but then she was nothing more than a scared and cowardly girl.

Past the Mill, Ohaine was struck by the sight of her old home. Loredi´s house, now a ruin devoured by the growth of vegetation, moistened her eyes. With a lump in her throat, she continued until reaching Ipar’s hut. The shepherd’s home seemed to be on its way to resemble the neighbouring house.

“Why does it smell like urine? You don’t have toilets here?” snapped Sheresade. Ohaine stared at her in such a way that spooked the girl. At first she thought of answering in a bad way, but she realized it was not worth giving any kind of credit to her comments. The longer she had been in the valley, the less willing she had to endure the abuse of the others. As if Arun’s ground filled her with a courage that she never had before.

Ohaine shouted the shepherd’s name many times with no answer. When she knocked at the door, the hinges squeaked. “It’s open!” said a muffled voice from within.

She entered, only followed by Master Azahara. The interior was not in better condition than the outside; it was even worse. The room was filled with junk in every corner and all of it was either covered in dust or filth. Ipar was sitting at the big wooden table they used to prepare cakes together long ago. With his eyes fixed on her, he took a bite of dry bread and drank a whole glass of beer.

The pass of time over him was shocking. Ipar was the same age as Ohaine, but now he looked much older. His beard and hair, both unkempt and long, were grey and in some parts already white, and his eyes were surrounded by wrinkles and large dark circles.

With little success, Ipar wiped the spilled beer on his beard with his sleeve. He changed the direction of his gaze towards the Master and smirked.

“My Lady, this is Ipar, the Shepherd. an old friend.”

“Not a shepherd anymore, not your friend either.” Snapped him.

Master seated in front of him, brushing lumps of food with her fingers. “Do you remember me, Ipar the Shepherd?”

“Again, not a shepherd. What do you want?”

Master’s lips raised slightly. Her eyes were fixed on him. “Is your familiar around?”

“I’m no mage, miss. I told you then, I told you now.”

Ohaine turned to the Master, eyes wide. “My friend is right, Master Azahara. He has no mark, never has.”

The mage did not flinch. Ipar put more beer on his glass and drank, staring back at Master Azahara. Surprisingly he was not amused by the power of her gaze. He hit the table with the empty glass and looked at Ohaine with fury eyes “Again, not your friend.”

“Look, my familiar is not here. It left for good long ago,” continued Ipar after an uncomfortable silence. “Now get out of my home… please.”

“That’s disappointing,” Master Azahara hissed.

“Tell yours to look for him and let me know if you find it,” said Ipar with a mockery tone. Oihane shook her head in denial, closing her eyes tightly. When she opened them again, they were as big as plates. Master Azahara raised her hand, interrupting the words that were to come out of her assistant’s mouth. Ohaine was stunned, looking at those two as if she had never met them before.

“We will talk about this later, not now. Shepherd, I need you to guide me to a place called Basajun’s Plateau.”

“No,” Ipar bit another piece of bread and a small crumb hit Azahara in the face. The mage scowl. Ohaine realized her master was getting out of patience with Ipar’s crotchety attitude. The silence became unbearable.

“Master I know that place, definitely I don’t know the ways as good as him, but I can still-”

Azahara raised her hand again. “There’s going to be soon an akelarre in that place, The Valley’s future depends of-”

“I said no. Get out of my house. You both.”

Ohaine watched as the vein on her Master’s forehead swelled. Azahara was the one who used to interrupt others, not the other way around.

Master took a breath and, with a smile that couldn't hide her real mood, insisted again. Ipar refused once more. The shepherd was already stubborn as a child, and now as a man, he was not giving any sign that he had changed a bit. Quite the opposite.

“Ohaine, go tell the others we are leaving,” the mage said. Ohaine hesitated. She wanted to stay and talk a bit more to his friend. Although he didn’t really want to see her, she had a lot to talk about. An entire conversation planned in her mind she had prepared for years.

She left the hut in silence, disappointed at how all that situation went. To make it harder, once outside, she realized she left without saying goodbye. Again.

With a knot in her stomach, she approached the group little by little. She still had said nothing to the others when the hut’s door slammed opened. Master strode out, followed by Ipar. He was wearing his shepherd's crook and a mountain’s jacket.

“The shepherd has agreed to guide us,” Said Azahara with a proud smile.

Oihane scrutinized Ipar, trying to decipher that change of mind. Trying to glimpse some magic, a spell perhaps, with which Azahara could have convinced him. There was nothing.

He glanced at her briefly and made a sigh. Then, he kicked a little stone and walked uphill without waiting for the rest.