Ezekiel!" Liarra shouted, frustrated that it took so much to grab the moon elf's attention. Her patience worn down from riding all night and day. Drez was already asleep, his head pressed against her middle back, as her horse slowed more and more, also exhausted from the prolonged march. Korlac, walking to give his mount a break, found himself perfectly matching the crew's slower pace. Only the orc and the elf seemed fully alert, the lack of sleep not yet showing on their faces.

"What?" Ezekiel replied without looking towards her.

"We need to rest for the night. I understand the urgency involved, but killing our horses won't do us any good. We rode through the night and all day, and night approaches again. We need to camp."

Ezekiel reined Scout in, and turned to face the alchemist.

"I know elves don't need much sleep, and Korlac can push himself for days, but Drez has passed out, I'm fading, and the horses will soon follow."

Onyx looked up from her position next to Scout, sniffing the air and yawning loudly, fangs glinting in the fading sun.

Ezekiel huffed, annoyed that she was right. He dismounted and the horse slowly disappeared back to its home plane.

"Point well taken."

"Thank the old gods. Korlac, can you get a tent ready for us?" Liarra asked.

Korlac rummaged through a sack across the horse’s back, looking through the trees for a good location to string up the tent, when Ezekiel held up a hand to stop him.

"That won't be necessary."

"What, you can summon tents as well?" Liarra asked jokingly.

"Better than that." Ezekiel pulled out his grimoire and read from the book, the arcane runes written in a language only he could decipher. As he read the words, the ground shifted, walls emerging in a twenty foot square. A tiled roof stretched over the top of the conjured structure as windows yawned into being on the walls. A door materialized before Ezekiel as a chimney rose above the roof.

"Whoa, Liarra! He summoned a building," Korlac whispered in wonder.

"You’ll find beds inside, complete with pillows and sheets. Please, remove your boots before entering," Ezekiel said removing his own shoes as he opened the door and disappeared inside.

Korlac tied the horses to a hook on the outside of the conjured building as he pulled the sleeping Drez from Liarra's horse and carried him into the cabin. Finding six beds in a row of three bunks, Korlac placed Drez on the top of one of the bunks, then flinched when he realized he still had his boots on. Taking them off, he apologized to Ezekiel.

"It's okay. Albert, can you sweep up the floor and start shining the shoes when you're done." Ezekiel explained, pointing to a small bench at the front of the cottage near the door where he placed his own. Removing his boots, Korlac set them next to Liarra's as they both stared in amazement at the inside of the cabin.

Onyx padded in behind them, finding the bunk beneath Drez. Hopping up onto the bed, the planar leopard curled up and planted her chin on her paws, closing her eyes but keeping her ears pointed in the others' direction.

In the middle of the abode sat a large circular table with several chairs around it. The bunk beds filled one side, the bench and an empty cabinet taking up the other side of the cottage. The rear of the building was dominated by a large fireplace and stove, firewood laid within each. Ezekiel knelt before the fireplace, sparking tinder to get the fire started.

Air started swirling around, first it seemed at random, then more purposeful as all the dirt, mud, and grime the group had tracked in began gathering in a small, controlled tornado. The door opened on its own as the tornado ejected all the dirt, then shut the door before moving to the shoes, swirling around to clean them, as well.

"What the heck is that?" Liarra asked, pointing to the small swirling tuft of air that moved as if it had a mind of its own.

"A small air elemental bound to the cabin named Albert. He helps with cleaning, tidying, that kind of stuff, though he can't leave the structure," Ezekiel explained.

Korlac lifted his armor over his jerkin, getting a whiff of himself for the first time in the last few days, reeling at his own stench.

"By the gods, Korlac, you smell like death warmed over, and you're still covered in blood. You might need to sleep outside, else your stench will keep us all up." Liarra reeled as she covered her nose.

Ezekiel finally got the fire going, and stood back up, walking over to the orc warrior.

"I can help with that, if you'll let me," He offered.

"What are you gonna do, summon him all new clothing now?" Liarra asked as she rolled her eyes slightly.

Korlac simply nodded and Ezekiel held a hand up, chanting a simple cleansing spell. Within the blink of an eye Korlac was cleaned of all dirt, sweat, and blood, left standing pristine. Ezekiel cast the spell once more on the orc's armor, rendering it fresh, too.

"It's crazy. We've heard tales of magic from the days before the Fall, but they always told of wizards casting torrents of fire, or flying through the air like the birds. I've never heard of any of this stuff. Creating a cottage to sleep in for the evening, or cleaning yourself with a wave of the hand. How come that never made it into the stories of ancient wizards?" Liarra asked as she sat at the table, taking a large bottle out from her pack along with a wrapped cloth. Opening it, she revealed cured meat and cheese, which she and Korlac began eating.

"For the same reason you've likely heard of great armies, large battles, but rarely heard of knights tending to their horses and setting up tents. This sort of thing, it's just normal everyday casting. It's not exotic like casting blasts of fire or soaring the skies."

"No, but it's damn convenient," Liarra said as she took a swig from her bottle, then handed it to Korlac. The orc took a long pull from the bottle, then offered it to Ezekiel, who turned it down.

"I have a pot on the fire warming up for a cup of tea."

The three settled into the evening, eating food and drinking, letting the wear and tear of the road fall from their tired bodies. As the night settled in and Liarra had a few more large swigs from her bottle, curiosity got the better of her.

"So, you were at the Fall then?" She asked.

"I was, though not many know of it. How do you know of the Fall? I hear everything prior to the last hundred years has been erased from the history books," Ezekiel said as he sipped his tea.

"It has, but people tell tales, and it's hard for the Inquisition to kill off legends told around fires far from the Church or the crown, though the details are light."

Taking another long drink, Liarra continued. “Korlac and I, we've been around the world, traveled far, and had more than our fair share of run-ins with the Inquisition and the crown guard, though nothing as large as what you're proposing. I found an old book once, far in the back of one of their churches. It mentioned the Fall, and gods that were not to be named. Is that all true?"

"It is, that and more. How much do you want to know?"

"Well, you don't have to tell us everything tonight, as we've still got a long road ahead of us, but since we're past all the obfuscation, how did you get involved in the Fall?"

"You mean as a moon elf?" Ezekiel clarified.

"Yeah. In all the stories I've heard, they spoke of the high elves who were cursed to their forests, the dwarves who haven't been seen since, but no mention of moon elves whatsoever."

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Well, that's probably because my brother and I were the only two in the Crusade. Hell, we're the only two moon elves to have left the Forgotten Isles in a thousand years

"Yeah, so start there." Liarra took another swig. Korlac was quiet but listened intently, still sharing drink and food with the alchemist as Onyx squinted an eye open, staring at Ezekiel upon hearing the request.

"Well, it really all started with Zeldren. Father had expectations of him. Both of us, really, but mostly him. Our people, the moon elves, spend all their lives on the island, detailing the history of Terrial in archives that span multiple libraries in the middle of Yandriel, our only city. We live for thousands of years, never leaving the island."

"How the hell do you write about the history of the world when you never see it?"

"Through magic, of course. Powerful divination magic that sees potential futures, spies on events as they happen, and peers into the minds of those thousands of miles away from us. Everything written in the great Historia of Terrial was written by people who experienced it all second hand through magic."

"That's... weird," Liarra said, finishing the last of the cheese from her rations.

"It is and it isn't. I can see, from your perspective, how it would be unusual, but for us it was second nature. As common as reading a book yourself. Anyways, father expected Zeldren and I to follow in his footsteps, as we were both capable and powerful magic users. I was resolved to that fate, but Zeldren wasn't."

"So, what? He just up and left?"

"Not that suddenly. We started hearing concerning rumors from the archivists, that the oracles stopped seeing multiple futures and instead only one was revealed, over and over again, the same fate no matter how many times they peered into the destiny of the world."

"And that was?"

"Death, the death of the world, at least the world as we knew it. The rise of a tyrant, the death of the gods, and the fall of the elder races."

"So you knew it was going to happen!?" Liarra asked, her tone sharp with accusation.

"Yes, and because of that Zeldren was determined to do something about it, as was I. Unfortunately, none of the other moon elves felt it was their responsibility to act."

"Did they at least warn people?"

Ezekiel shook his head as he finished his tea, the light of the fire flickering against the walls of the cabin.

"No, there was a strict non-interference rule amongst the archivists. Can't interfere with fate, else we stop writing about history and instead start shaping it."

"So you violated the law of your own people?"

"And in doing so, disgraced our father," Ezekiel explained.

"Wow...that's..." Liarra trailed off.

"The end of the story, at least for tonight." Ezekiel stood up and stretched his legs. Korlac stood up with him, towering above the moon elf as he slapped a meaty hand on Zeke's shoulder, a twinge of unintended pain shooting through his back.

"Sorry about your brother, and father."

"Oh, uh...thank you, Korlac."

Suddenly Ezekiel found himself in a tight and uncomfortable hug, Korlac's tree trunk-sized biceps holding him for a brief moment. Then the orc yawned loudly and half fell, half rolled into a bunk, almost instantly asleep, filling the room with soft snoring.

"He doesn't talk much, but he cares. A lot," Liarra explained.

"I can see that. How did you two end up traveling together?"

"Good question, one that'll need more alcohol. Listen, I know I've been giving you a rough time since we've met..." Liarra admitted.

"At least you're aware of it."

"I'm just worried about us, him most of all." Liarra pointed a thumb at the sleeping Korlac.

"He's a big lug with an even bigger heart, both making him an ideal target for people to take advantage of, and I won't let that happen. Understood?"

"Understood, but you owe me more of a story, especially after grilling me for the last day. You don't need to tell me now, but eventually," Ezekiel said as he sat on a bed, a yawn stretching over his lips.

"Good night, Colonel Graystone," Liarra replied with a grin, climbing into the bunk above Korlac.

"Good night." Ezekiel returned as he laid down on the bed, exhaustion finally hitting him.

**********

"Grand Inquisitor Kora..." A voice from the doorway interrupted.

Sitting behind her large wooden desk in the bowels of the Citadel, Kora reviewed the mess of paperwork covering her desk.

"I'm sorry, father, but I don't have time for an audience. Maybe some other time," she replied, rummaging around the stacks on her desk.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but this wasn't a request. It's a courtesy. The bishop is here to see you." The priest explained as he moved aside. Walking through the door, an older man in deep red robes with black accents walked in. He wore a black cap, his fingers and neck adorned with gold jewelry inlaid with rubies.

Kora rose from her desk and walked around, dropping to her knee while kissing the bishop's hand.

"Lord Yandel..."

"Kora, please, stand. Such formalities are unneeded."

Standing, she returned to her desk as Lord Bishop Yandel took a seat across from her, the priest at the door closing it to give the two some privacy.

"So, I hear we have a visitor in the Facilities."

"We do," Kora replied, nervously tracing the scar on her cheek.

A slow thudding started repeating in the room, the bishop rhythmically tapping his ring against the wood arm of his chair.

"And the Grand Procession? Is it true? A total loss?" The thumping of the ring grew louder.

Kora tried to keep her face neutral as she screamed internally. She'd blamed the loss on the lack of reinforcements for the Grand Procession, which was true enough. It had fewer guards than it had ever had in the last thirty years, largely because no one had been foolish enough in that time to openly attack it. Regardless, the complete loss of the Grand Procession was enough to hurt her position in the Church, perhaps endangering her position as grand inquisitor. There were plenty of other hungry acolytes waiting to stab her in the back for a chance at taking her place.

"An unfortunate loss, to say the least, Lord Bishop, but one that helped us learn something."

"And what is it we learned that was worth the resources we lost in Greencoast?"

Thump, thump, thump.

Kora swallowed, her throat suddenly dry as she felt a bead of sweat form on her temple.

"You see Kora, something that the king takes very seriously is the power of stories. That's why we've worked so hard to make sure history tells the right tale about his sovereignty, and the holy divinity with which he rules. Stories, you see..."

Thump...thump...thump.

"Stories have a way of spreading, if not controlled properly. Take, for example, the Grand Procession doing a routine sweep of an insignificant nothing of a village in the middle of nowhere, getting wiped out by unknown vagabonds. Some could argue..."

Thump! Thump! Thump!

"...that such an act challenges the righteous might of the Church. And if the Church's power is in doubt, then the king could be in doubt, as well. Do we understand each other, Kora?"

"Yes... Lord Bishop." Her eyes locked on her desk, unable to meet the intimidating gaze of his unnaturally dark eyes.

"Good, I would hate for us to be unclear on the situation," Yandel finished, his ring hitting the chair's arm one last time. "Now, tell me about this heretic you encountered who openly challenged the Church."

"He was odd. He said he was one of the last remaining moon elves in all of Terrial, and even suggested I bring him before the king himself to gain a reward. He was dressed in some kind of military jacket, though for what army I couldn't tell you. Our reports from the village said he goes by the name Ezekiel, and he has a strange metallic cat of some kind following him around." Kora recalled the chaotic events of the previous night as she best she could, noting a small and subdued reaction from the bishop; brief, but distinct in breaking from his current tone. "He's obviously had training in magic, training outside the instruction of the Church. He also summoned something," she continued.

The bishop perked up, leaning forward closer. Kora was shocked at the sudden intensity of his stare.

"He summoned something? Most summoning that our priests have tried have been small dogs or beetles, and even then they're difficult to control. Hardly a power that could challenge the Grand Procession."

"It wasn't a dog or a beetle. It was large, and made of stone and covered in glowing green gems. He... he spoke to it. In fact, I think he spoke to the cat, as well. Both listened to him, acted on his orders. I think the larger creature was from the Plane of Earth."

The lord bishop’s eyes grew even darker, his body tensing sharply at the mention of the earth elemental. Kora saw her room grow darker, as if the light from the flickering candles was being dimmed as the shadows crawled up the walls.

"No one outside the Church has controlled magic that powerful in over a hundred years. What are your plans to address such heresy?" he asked, anger simmering in the question.

"A Cleansing Battalion. In fact, I was just signing the paperwork to form one and launch it within the next few days," Kora explained, pointing to all the paperwork on her desk.

"And you think that will be enough?" Yandel asked.

"You don't?"

Yandel stood, stretching his legs, as he walked around Kora's office. He examined her bookshelf, lined with the standard history books of the Church, the dogma of the land ruled by King Tal'Dar.

"Did you know at one point the Citadel was infested with rats? Thousands of them, eating everything in sight, attacking priests, soldiers, they practically ruled the Citadel rather than the Church."

"No Lord Bishop, I've never heard of that."

"We set traps and did everything we could, but we just couldn't stop them. So do you know what we did?"

"What?" Kora asked.

"We hired a chemist, a specialist. We evacuated the Citadel of all our devout followers, and the chemist soaked the entire Citadel in poisonous gas for several days, weeks even. When we returned, all the rats were dead, including all of the unfortunate souls in the Facilities who weren't worthy of salvation."

Kora took a moment to absorb the story, making sure she fully understood what the lord bishop was trying to tell her.

"So you're saying, hire the right specialist for the job?" Kora asked.

"I see we're finally on the same page, inquisitor. May the blessings of our God King be upon you child." Yandel said with a slight bow as he exited the room.

Kora sighed heavily, not realizing she had been sporadically holding her breath throughout the conversation. She could feel her heart trying to beat through her chest as she stood up, pulling another parchment out from under her stack. It held a likeness of Ezekiel on it, with details of his crimes and a bounty written out.

"Time to hire a chemist..."