To say that the travelling party’s mood was subdued was an understatement.

To say that it was amiable was an outright lie.

The forest had long since lost its appeal and with the band of rain clouds moving behind them, they put all their energy, where it might have whittled away in idle conversation, into walking as fast as they could. The result was by mid afternoon, they could say with certainty they had put the forest behind them.

Civilisation had also become quite sparse. It still existed but there were no small settlements like the ones that took advantage of the, mostly, monster free northern privilege. The further south one went in Terra, the closer to Maul one inevitably travelled and monsters inevitably became more plentiful.

The temperature had also dropped and while the days were very pleasant for walking, the nights were becoming quite cool. The ground was harder as well and the air was brittle. But no one thought to complain about it. They were still all a little preoccupied with internal conflict.

Judd finally broke the silence with the call to rest. He helped unload the horses then picked up his sword, muttering something about going for a walk as he slapped some long blades of grass.

No one dared point out that they had been walking all day.

Caste set up his nest which was always, in his mind, the safest location around the campfire. Tonight he was pressed against a large rock slab which also did a good job of keeping the wind from scattering their fickle fire. He opened his pack and dug to the bottom, pulling out the plain wooden box that held the proof of Judd’s knighthood quest accomplishments. Before he opened it, he donned his leather apron and gloves then unfastened the clasp. In the base of the chest was the toenail of the ogre, a twisted ear from one of the goblins at Fort Faine, both of which had been documented on the parchment within the lid.

Caste took the parchment out and laid it carefully to one side, putting a stone on it to weigh it down. Then he looked back into the box and shuddered. Using a pair of pliers he picked up the cockatrice’s foreclaw. With careful precision he smeared the bloody end of it against the parchment in the dot next to the word ‘cockatrice’. Even though the blood was dried, it was still new enough to react with the chemical in the circle, the parchment turning blue.

“What’s that you’re doing?” Giordi asked.

“Documenting Judd’s knighthood quest.” Caste explained. “As unfortunate as the encounter with the cockatrice may have been, it was on the list.”

Aalis flexed the fingers of her left hand, the memory of her shrivelled arm revisiting her during the night and giving her nightmares. Thankfully no one was the wiser that she had been scratched in the cockatrice’s attack and Aalis knew she would eventually put it behind her. There were other more terrifying things in her memory that took precedence. Something so new would be fleeting and fade all more quickly than it would for anyone else.

“So, there is a list of monsters for Judd to slay?”

“Yes.” Caste replied curtly, stiff and aching, inside and out.

“What’s on it?” Verne asked.

Had Giordi inquired, Caste might have fobbed him off but Verne irritated him the least out of all his companions, so Caste decided to answer his query.

“A cockatrice, an orthros, a goblin, a basilisk, an ogre, a werewolf, a beast of unnatural size, a unicorn, a witch and the last is a minotaur.” Caste turned the list around to show those who were interested.

Giordi leaned forward. “What are those circles next to the names?”

“A place for a smear of monster blood to be recorded.” Caste explained.

“I thought monsters of Maul bled green.” Giordi shuddered. “At least, that’s what that cockatrice did last night.”

“They do,” Caste put the parchment carefully inside the lid of the box, “but each circle has been treated with a specific chemical that reacts with the blood of the specific monster type. You know you’ve got the right one when the circle turns blue.”

“I didn’t think that kind of science was even possible…” Giordi shook his head.

“The Order of the Grail is highly advanced in its studies of the monsters of Maul.” Caste said with a flicker of his usual arrogance.

“So why keep bits of them in your box? Isn’t that a little macabre?”

“It’s physical proof. Both parchment and box are required when claiming the knighthood.”

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He put the cockatrice claw into the box and closed the lid.

“I see,” Giordi nodded, “that’s quite thorough.”

“Yes it is.”

“A bit boring though…”

Caste rolled his eyes and packed up his belongings.

“Can I ask,” Aalis said quietly, “are the creatures on the list in order of smallest to largest? Easiest to hardest?”

“Smallest does not necessarily mean the easiest,” Caste’s took up a lecturing tone, “and by no means should any of the monsters on this list,” he put his hand on the box, “should be considered easy.”

“You’ve really got that holy order priesthood condescension down, haven’t you?” Giordi chuckled.

Before Caste could come up with a retort, Verne leaned forward. “If we take the list as some kind of, do it in this order…then Judd killing an ogre first is quite the accomplishment.”

Aalis paused, glancing at Caste. Previously, he would have made some kind of disparaging remark about Judd’s ogre ‘kill’ but she noticed he said nothing now.

“If you call nearly getting myself killed and the ogre falling on my sword an accomplishment…” They looked up as Judd joined their circle around the fire. He stood, looking uncertain and awkward. “I…I wanted to apologise…for my behaviour last night.” Judd swallowed, his eyes arrested on the flames. “I was scared and took it out on you…well, specifically you, Caste.” He forced his eyes to meet Caste’s who was staring at him, his pinched expression even more so in that moment. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you like I did…I’m sorry.”

There was a long pause. Everyone was waiting for Caste to say something but he seemed to be rendered mute just like the rest of them.

“If minstrel retellings are anything to go by,” Giordi offered at long last, “knights are known to be hot headed. They’re even praised for it in song.”

“I think this is one of those moments where it’s ‘lost in translation’.” Judd said dryly.

“True.” Giordi conceded.

“I really am sorry, Caste.” Judd sighed.

“It’s not the first time I’ve been threatened physically,” Caste shrugged, “but it’s the first time anyone’s apologised for it.”

Judd sat down near Aalis. “Well…that’s something I guess.”

They all stared at the flames, no one knowing what to talk about next. The sparks from the fire travelled upwards into the unobscured sky, just another flash of light against the indigo wash of night. The air was fresh and cool and the five travellers huddled as close as they dared to the fire, hugging their cloaks around their shoulders.

“So…” Giordi cleared his throat. “Caste was telling us about the monster list and after the ogre, the goblin and the cockatrice…”

“Three out of…ten?” Verne raised an eyebrow which was somewhat lost beneath his bandana.

“What about the swamp monster?” Aalis asked. “Surely that counts for something?”

“I didn’t grab anything to verify the kill…and I’m not entirely sure it’s dead.”

“Nope…it just has something stuck in its eye.” Verne smirked and they all chuckled, the tension oozing away.

“So where are we heading and what monster is Judd going to kill next?” Giordi rubbed his hands together. “It would give me a head start on my lyrics.”

Caste groaned and closed his eyes.

“Go on, Caste,” Aalis laughed softly, “where are we going?”

“Before we left Astaril, there was a vague report of an orthros terrorising Keenstone Isle.”

“Keenstone Isle…doesn’t it form part of the wall?”

“Unofficially,” Caste nodded, finding his map of Terra and studying it, “when the wall was first erected, the people didn’t have the ability to cross bodies of water and they, wrongfully, assumed that monsters were equally as hampered. Fort Callain, which serves as the most westerly fortified guardian of Terra from Maul, was entrusted with the sea as well as land and they did the best they could, using bows and arrows and, when weaponry advanced, trebuchets to cut down any monsters seen swimming northward.”

They all envisioned the serpents of mythology fighting against the tide of the water, cut down by the merciless aim of the Fort Callain gunners.

“But if any made it to shore, it would be more than likely Keenstone Isle than the mainland?”

“Correct.” Caste nodded. “Once humans were able to cross the strait, several knights were sent ahead to kill any monsters that had made it to the island. Then the isle was colonised and a fort was built, Fort…” he peered at his map, “Sol.”

“I thought the forts that made up the wall were all named after the Four Spire knights?” Judd frowned. “Sir Verion, Sir Callain, Sir Mavour and Sir Omra. There was no Sir Sol.”

“That’s why the isle is an unofficial part of the wall but it is still, in part, responsible of the border control of monster incursions.” Caste explained.

“What does this have to do with an orthros?” Verne asked, impatient to get to the end of the lecture so he could sleep.

“It was sighted by two or more people at separate times and a report was written from the cleric of Fort Sol and received by the Order of the Grail clerics to be verified.”

Verne blinked. “What does this have to do with an orthros?” He said again in a stale tone.

“It’s on the list!” Caste grouched. “I did think, after all these weeks and with other knighthood questers probably seeking out something as low on the list as an orthros that it has probably been dealt with…but Judd felt it was worth looking into.”

Everyone nodded at Caste’s words. Giordi looked at everyone then shrugged.

“Fine, I’ll ask. What’s an orthros?”

“Oh thank goodness!” Verne groaned.

“I wasn’t sure to be honest.” Judd sighed.

“No idea.” Aalis admitted.

Caste let out a deep breath. “An orthros is a two headed dog.”

Everyone nodded.

“The only thing worse than a dog that bites you is one that bites you twice.” Verne lay back down. “Wake me when it’s my turn to keep watch.”

Aalis shook her head, tucking her dreadlocks back. She caught Judd’s gaze.

“That was a very decent thing you did, Judd LaMogre.” She whispered.

“What?”

“Apologising to Caste.” Aalis nodded towards the cleric who was hunkered down, almost indistinguishable from his nest, covered in blankets. “What he said, about it not being the first time he had been threatened…”

“I know,” Judd grimaced, “I felt awful in that moment.”

“But exonerated the next.” Aalis said gently. “All of us have reasons why we do what we do.”

“And why do you do what you do, Aalis Dragoslava?” Judd asked boldly.

Aalis smiled. “It is too late and too long a story to tell.”

“I have a feeling you’d say that to me even if I asked first thing in the morning.” Judd grunted, lying down as Giordi begrudging sat up to take first watch. He watched as Aalis pulled her cloak over her body, the fire dancing off her pale features. “Maybe one day…will you tell me?”

“One day…maybe.”