Prologue 

Piria

Neyra’s lungs were on fire, and each new breath only stoked the flames. Tears welled up in her eyes as her side spasmed again, sending searing pain through her abdomen. She couldn’t decide which of the two pains was worse. Despite both, she still ran, ran like her little life depended on it. She panted as she spared a quick glance over her shoulder. She could still see him through the auburn hair that whipped about her head. 

He was six feet of pure, lean muscle and his pale green skin was slick with sweat. Wicked tusks glinted in the midday sun as he bared them at her in a viscous growl. That deep, rumbling sound seemed to vibrate all the way to the ground beneath her very feet. His arms pumped and his chest heaved with each stride he took. He was close, and he was getting closer by the second. 

She cursed to herself and redoubled her efforts, choosing to turn off of the beaten path. Neyra leapt over a fallen tree, the rough bark scraping her thigh as she pressed deeper into the dense foliage. She winced in pain and hoped that the obstacle would trip him up. There was the crunching sound of trampled branches and then a snarl. Whatever time that bought her, it wasn’t much. Gods send it would be enough.

There was one more gambit that could work. Target in sight, Neyra crouched and prepared her arms for the swing that would launch her up into the grooved branches of the parana pine. Cool, humid air swept across her legs and up her skirts, stinging a bit as it blew against her open wound. She leapt, reaching desperately for the saving grace of the towering tree. Her fingertips brushed the bark and ignited hope within her chest. But, with a jolt, something wrenched her back from her salvation. A massive hand grasped the back of her shirt. She kicked and huffed, but to no avail. His chest rumbled as he effortlessly held her up, turning her to face his yellow eyes. 

“Now that there’s cheatin’ and you know it!” he said. Though she could hear slight annoyance in his voice, his yellow eyes sparkled with a playful light. Neyra could do nothing but grin sheepishly as he set her on the ground with a gentle thump.

“It’s not like I have much of a choice here, Arv!” Neyra said, tapping her foot. “Your legs are taller than my whole body!!” 

At just under three feet tall, she was hardly tiny for a halfling girl of her age, though her full potential of growth stood no chance against her brother. She narrowed her eyes and scrunched her nose as she glared up at him. He had only just reached his twelfth year and already he stood at an impressive six feet tall. He showed no signs of stopping, either. Maybe Ma and Da needed to build that second house addition after all…

“Hey now, you know that ain’t my fault!” He gestured down at his legs with a bashful grin. “Ma feeds me the same food as you! You’re just not using it right, big sis,” he reached out a hand (big enough to cover her entire head, mind you) and ruffled her hair playfully, adding a bit of jabbing emphasis to the last words. Neyra batted him away, trying in vain to fix the absolute mess he’d made of her hair. Despite it all, she couldn’t help but smile. Her little brother had that effect on people.  

Arv pursed his lips to give her one more of his toothy smiles, but then stopped short. Neyra noticed his square, pointed ears twitch. Then her own ears perked up as a breeze rustled the tall fronds and grasses around them, carrying the sound of soft footsteps and quiet pants. Arv gave a little hop and waved a big, green hand toward the noise. 

“Oi! Baby sis! Came to join us finally?” 

His voice boomed with an unintentional power that caused several nearby birds to take flight.

“Hardly,” the small voice said, its owner peeking her head through the tall vegetation. She stumbled up to them, all the while muttering under her breath about sticking to the trail. Soon, a disgruntled halfling stood at Neyra’s side, arms crossed and tapping her foot. “Mums looking for you,” she said to Neyra before turning to look (very far) up to Arv, “and Da’s looking for you. He’ll have your stinky green hide if you aren’t there to help with the catch today!” 

The green seemed to drain from his face as he looked down at Elivera. 

“They’re back already?!” 

A jerk of her head toward the docks was the only answer Arv needed to send him running, trampling down the undergrowth like it was nothing. The ruckus sent every creature within a mile radius running for cover. 

“Well, at least he made a path for us!” Elivera said, grabbing Neyra’s hand as they set off for the road. Neyra just rolled her eyes and smiled.

Looking at her little sister was like looking in a mirror. The two of them shared the same tanned, delicate features; round cheeks smattered generously with freckles, big brown eyes, and dainty noses. Her long hair cascaded from two high pigtails atop her head. Each was the exact shade of Neyra's own auburn locks.

Elle looked at her with a devious smile and stretched up on her tiptoes. She gave Neyra a little boop on the nose before settling back on the ground. Confound it all. Elle was only eleven years old, but if she continued with all of this growing of hers, people would start mistaking the two of them for twins! Her face was near level with her own now, even when she wasn’t standing on her tiptoes! Neyra huffed at the thought of being outgrown by yet another sibling. Elivera would never reach Arv's height, at least. That had to count for something, right? 

“Now what’s Ma gonna do with you, Ney? You’re supposed to be the responsible one now, you know.” 

Neyra wilted at the banter from her little sister. At fourteen years old, Neyra was the eldest, a fact that her whole family seemed to never let her forget! She felt as if her childhood had ‌disappeared the moment she received women's underclothes. Things that were supposed to be fun now just made her feel guilty. She groaned. At least she wasn’t married off yet. She knew that would come soon enough if Ma had her way. She uttered a silent prayer of thanks for Arv, whose mere presence kept the more serious village boys at bay, but that wouldn’t last forever. Elivera kept that teasing grin on her face as they walked, almost as if she were expecting Neyra to quip back. And Neyra nearly did too. The whole situation was quite infuriating. Elivera wore a woman’s shift too! The burden didn't affect Elle the same way it affected her.

“Don't deny it, Ney,” she said, “You secretly enjoy being the oldest.” Elivera playfully punched her in the arm.

Neyra punched her back with a sisterly scowl as they stepped onto the well-worn dirt of the village road. Elle was kind of right, after all.  

A short while later, Neyra found familiar scents trickling into her nose. The aroma of cook fires along with a faint, ever-persistent smell of fish always hit them before they even saw the first thatched roofs of Piria. 

Piria was a modest fishing village, not as small as some of the island settlements to the south, but certainly not one of the grand cities up north. What it lacked in population it more than made up for in…well, not much of anything, actually. Fishing was practically all that happened in their town. Her Ma often joked that Piria had more boats than beds, and she was right! Neyra had counted once. She smiled despite herself as they approached the first cluster of buildings. Life in Piria was quaint, perhaps even boring. And Neyra wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Their home was part of a smaller neighborhood, just on the northern outskirts of town. Piria had no walls, but Neyra supposed that if you had to draw a boundary for the town somewhere, then it would be here, just where the northern road met the first home. 

The buildings jutted from the earth in a confusing array of styles and sizes. All together there were a dozen different homes laid out in an arcing pattern around a communal well at the center. Neyra glanced past the fences and gardens to where the road turned from dirt to cobbled stone. One only had to walk a mile or so further down it to reach the town proper. Neyra and her siblings alike often groaned at the distance from the amenities of town; most especially when Ma or Da sent them on last-minute errands. But she knew that there were certain perks to living on the outskirts of the community. The village square was crowded, and Da insisted they would need the extra room to grow, especially with an Arv in their family. 

The sounds of morning work trickled into Neyra’s ears, and many of their neighbors called out in greeting as they passed by, their hands busy with the washing or the cooking. In true Pirian spirit, many of them hummed and sang as they worked. Neyra hummed right along with them as they finally reached their home.

Of all the homes in the neighborhood, the Tallfellow residence was by far the strangest. It looked as if someone had worked on a home sized for halflings, and then up and changed their minds halfway through. And it looked that way because that’s exactly what had happened. Ma and Pa fully intended to have children, and when they came to Piria, they built themselves a home to reflect that goal. Not too big, not too small. But when it became clear that the infant they took in was, in fact, a full-blooded orc, they had to scramble to make more room. The back half of the house towered comically above the rest of the dwelling, sized even bigger than the homes that the human Pirians lived in. 

And if the home wasn’t eye-catching enough, it was also decorated in true halfling fashion, with brightly painted shutters and no shortage of bells and wind chimes. Flowers in every color grew in such abundance that they nearly engulfed the path to the house, and Ma kept adding more with each passing spring. 

“Bout time, my girls!” A cheery voice barked at them from the doorway. 

She was a stout woman, their mother, even for a halfling. She kept her curly brown hair tied up tight in a bright yellow kerchief, leaving her freckled and sun wrinkled face free from distraction. Danya was a kind soul, but she tolerated no nonsense. It took a certain kind of woman to take in an abandoned orc infant, after all. Neyra knew that she certainly would have had hesitations about raising a child sure to outgrow her, especially with another little one already in the home. But mother and father were willing. It was who they were. Their family had a motto, and her Ma and Da had a habit of being persistently, horrifically annoying about it. “No challenge too great for a Tallfellow!” they would often cheer. They especially loved doing it when their children complained about the chores. But there was never any doubt that the Masters Tallfellow certainly followed that creed. And, despite all her eye rolls, Neyra was actually quite grateful for their nonsense. She loved her family more than anything. They were a merry bunch, stalwart and proud. 

“The wash waits for no one!” She sang as she thrust a basket onto each girl, “Hang these, and then I need you to pick and shell those beans from the garden to go with supper. Now hurry along! There will be time to play after the work is done,” she said to Neyra, who blushed. 

“Yes, Ma,” 

The girls trudged over to the clotheslines. Elivera chatted away happily as they worked, trying to make the chore go by faster. Her words floated through Neyra’s mind with little thought.

“Then Sylla told Bari, who told me that there’s a soothsayer in town!” she said.

Neyra fumbled with the sheet in her hands, nearly dropping it in the dirt. 

“A what?!”

“A soothsayer! You know, an honest to Gods magician! He came last night. Now Judge Voss has him all cooped up in the town hall. He doesn’t want everyone knowing about him, I suppose. But Sylla swears he’s there, and he’s got the judge’s council all in a huff.”

“Well, of course they’re in a huff! Why would a soothsayer even come here?”

“How should I know? I had to give Bari quite the prodding before she even came out with it! Apparently her Ma heard her talkin' with Sylla and…. well she’s not sitting properly today, that’s for certain,” Elivera grimaced. 

“A soothsayer…” Neyra whispered, curiosity blooming in her chest, elation followed close after, “A soothsayer! Elle, I have to see him!” 

A fresh voice, a gruff yet playful whisper, came suddenly from Neyra’s right,

“They aren’t letting anyone in, and they even locked the windows.” Neyra nearly screamed as a small, brown face peeked through the damp laundry around them, parting the sheets with deft hands, “I already checked.”

“Hells, Shamil! How long have you been there?!” Elivera squeaked, and then yelped as Neyra pinched her. 

“Don’t let Ma hear you swear! But yes, what in the hells are you doing here, Shamil?! I thought you were on the boats today!” Neyra finished in a whisper. 

Shamil’s face scrunched in a mischievous grin, her gray eyes twinkling as if there was some untold secret behind them. She was a gnome, which put her at about equal height with Neyra and Elle, but her build was much stockier, and her ears bigger. Her skin was a cool, rich brown which complimented the subtle highlights that peeked through her black hair. She wore it in two large buns at the top of her head. Neyra couldn’t remember the last time Shamil wore it any other way. And she certainly couldn’t remember a time without Shamil Quiltone in her life. 

Shamil’s parents, Barcus and Joyaris, were lifelong friends with her own Ma and Da, and as such, the two of them grew up together. Shamil was there when they found Arv, and she was there when Elle was born. She had no siblings of her own, and had taken to the Tallfellow children as if they were her own blood, especially after Joyaris died. They were more than happy to have her. Shamil had a talent for finding fun and mayhem, and she was even more brilliant at making it for herself. She also had an excellent ear for gossip.

“Listen, we all know that Sylla’s a twit. But she’s right about this. I saw him too. He came to my Pa’s shop before Judge Voss scooped ‘em up.” Her pointed ears wiggled as her face split into a grin. “It’s the most interesting thing to happen here since Arv almost burned the docks down.” 

“It’s a good thing he’s not around to hear you mention that. You know how defensive he gets,” Neyra said with a soft scowl. 

“Where’s that big oaf, anyway? Still helping your Da?”

“I’d imagine so,” Neyra shrugged, returning to her work as Elivera did to hers. Shamil continued,

“Well, I’d hate to be him right now. I saw some of the fishermen this morning and they looked in a right foul mood. The catches must not be improving,” Shamil’s face fell a bit. Even at thirteen years old, she understood the weight of that statement. Winter would be upon them soon, and the fishing would only get harder. She shook her head as if trying to snap out of it, her buns of hair bobbing wildly as she did.

“Anyway, hurry it up over here! I’ve got that…thing. Swiped it this morning,” she said with a wink at Neyra, “so meet me at the spot! It should be the last piece we need.”

“You two are still working on that?” Elivera asked, rolling her eyes, “When do I finally get to see it?!”

“When it’s ready, Elle,” Shamil stuck her tongue out at the halfling, the expression puffing out her normally square, gnomish features. 

Neyra merely smiled at her best friend and quickened her pace, thoughts of magic soothsayers and secret engineering projects dancing through her mind.

***

Arv let out a grunt as he swung himself over the railing of the small fishing boat. He hit the dock with a thump; the wood creaking and groaning underneath him. A smaller thump followed and soon a small hand clapped his lower back with a surprisingly strong whack. 

“Ya did good today, lad,” he said, “even if you were late.”  

Arv smiled down at his father. Adelard Tallfellow was tall in every single way but in his actual stature. Strong and selfless, he was everything that Arv respected in people. An auburn mustache crinkled above his lip as he smiled warmly up at his son. Very far up at his son. He sighed and rubbed his temple with worn, calloused hands. His hair was thinning there from the habit. Arv could tell that he was trying his hardest not to let the fatigue and worry show, but the creases between Adelard’s eyebrows gave him away. Those hushed whispers he had shared with the other fishers at the docks were suspicious. Something was up, Arv was sure of it. If only he could figure out what. 

Despite the troublesome thoughts, Arv puffed out his chest and gave his father a large toothy grin, basking in the compliment. 

“Now go run along! I’ve a council meeting at the town hall tonight. I’ll be awhile still. You go find your sisters. I’m sure they’re expecting you. Now go!” 

He waved dismissively, sensing Arv’s trepidation. Arv excused himself as a fellow fisherman walked up and began talking to his father. His ears pricked at the word “soothsayer” among the frantic whispers. What would they be talking about a soothsayer for? He wondered as he jogged off towards the cliffs, an unsettling icy breeze following his every step. 

It didn’t take long for his long legs to carry him to where he needed to go. The village kids spent most evenings by the cliffs. And sure enough, as he rounded the bend, he found his sisters and Shamil sitting on the large rocks. However, they were alone. None of the other village youths lounged about as they usually did. And instead of the typical laughs and shouts filling the air, he heard only hushed, serious tones. Shamil looked up from her lap, holding what appeared to be a mess of leather straps and buckles. She nudged Neyra, who quickly helped her stuff the straps into a bag before Arv could get a closer look. 

“Arv!” Neyra said, “How was the catch today?”

“Good enough, I suppose,” Arv said, forgetting the straps and flopping backwards into the tall grass. He stretched out his long limbs. The familiar, salty scent of seawater filled his nostrils and the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs helped calm his frazzled nerves. 

“Oh, come on. It couldn’t be that bad, could it?” Elivera asked as she laid down next to Arv, the blades of grass engulfing her much more than her brother. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing. Bad luck lately is all.” Arv sighed, “More fish will come…we’ll–we’ll be okay.” 

He was a terrible liar, and he knew it. But Elivera and the others seemed to let it rest, turning to other matters. Neyra smiled down at him from atop her rocky perch. He could tell that she was worried. They all were. Perhaps Neyra most of all. She usually did all the worrying for them. He sat up and crawled towards Neyra’s rock, eventually turning to sit. He hugged his knees up to his chest. 

“You’ve gone and made a mess of Elle’s work this morning,” Neyra said as she took the braids out of his thick black hair. While cropped short at the sides and back, the hair on the crown of his head hung long. He would’ve shaved it all short years ago, but he knew his sisters loved to braid it. And who was he to deny them that? 

Neyra’s fingers worked deftly, and he drifted off under the familiar sensation. 

“What’s that?” Shamil asked.

Arv’s eyes shot open with a start. The tone of Shamil’s voice was one he had never heard from her lips before. She sounded…afraid? Ignoring the protests of his biggest sister, he scrambled to his feet, urgently looking at where Shamil was pointing. 

The afternoon sun continued to sink in the sky off to the East, casting warm, long shadows across the coastline. But out across the sea, filling the entire southern horizon, the sky was black. Not just the black of dark clouds that heralded the all-too-familiar storms of the coast, but black as pitch, black as the moonless night, black as death. And it was growing.

They all stood up now, looking in earnest across the horizon. As his eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar sight, Arv noticed an undulating movement from within the blackness. It was like inky water, or the roiling ocean in the dark of night. He nearly jumped as a sudden flash of green lightning streaked across its surface, illuminating the black sky a sickly color before fading to darkness again. 

Neyra’s voice drifted into his awareness as the blackness crept ever closer.

“We need to run. Now.” 

And, almost as if they were awaiting permission, the four leapt to their feet and ran.

***

For the second time that day, Neyra’s lungs screamed, but this time there was true terror in her heart. She cursed as she tripped over a rock, crashing hard into the dirt. Arv was there in an instant, scooping her up and slinging her over his back. Shamil and Elivera already clung to his broad shoulders. Neyra scurried to her familiar spot as her brother continued to run. 

While halfling-backpack was a familiar game to them, they had never played like this, fleeing genuine danger. The straps that clanked in Samil’s bag would have been real handy right about now. But there was no time. Arv huffed furiously as he ran, arms pumping in a steady rhythm with his long legs. Neyra tried to shake off the shock of her fall as she clung to her brother, eyes squeezed shut. Pull it together, you fool, she thought, they need you. She glanced to either side of her at Shamil and Elivera. Both were looking at her with concern in their eyes. She forced a brief, strained smile at them and leaned her head closer to Arv. 

“Get us home!” She cried out, trying to make her voice carry through the din of rustling grass and cracking branches. 

“No!” Arv said between breaths, “Town needs to know! We’re runnin' to the council.”

Neyra opened her mouth to protest, but stopped short. Of course, Arv was right. They needed to tell someone. 

In record time, Arv skidded to a halt in front of the building that served as the town’s gathering hall. Hands on his knees, he panted as the three girls scurried down to the ground. Elivera gave him an appreciative pat on the way down. 

“Go!” He said, “I’ll be along. I just need to catch my breath—hey!” He yelped as Neyra used her whole (albeit very humble) weight against his arm, clinging to it with both hands as she dragged him off balance. 

“No! Catch your breath inside, you big dunderhead! I’m NOT leaving you out here alone.”

Elivera and Shamil were already scrambling up the steps and to the heavy doors, pulling with a joint effort at the latch. Neyra’s wide, fear-filled eyes left no room for argument and Arv mustered what little energy he had left to follow the little ones into the building. 

There was a loud clunk as the door swung open to Arv’s heavy hands, but not a soul seemed to notice as every adult voice in the room was shouting out at once. The cacophony was incredible, and the tension palpable. 

“Well, there’s no chance in hells that they’ll listen now, even if we could get their attention,” Shamil snarled. 

“I don’t see Da…ours or yours,” Arv said, with a worried glance down at Shamil.

“So what do we do?” Elivera asked, “That soothsayer has to be somewhere! Maybe he’ll listen?” 

“So there really is a soothsayer here?!” Arv asked, still sounding winded.

“Come on,” Elivera said, taking charge as she wound her way through the sea of arguing adults. 

Ducking and weaving, the girls darted through the mess of legs and chairs with ease. Even all of Arv went completely unnoticed in the frenzy. Quickly they crept down the back hall of the building, the noise of the shouting dimming slightly as they turned the corner. 

“There,” Elivera whispered as they came to a stop. A soft candle light flickered and danced under the spare room door. Someone was inside. 

“That must be where they’re keeping him. I betcha he’ll listen!”

They never even noticed that the council’s arguing had halted. 

Neyra had only just raised a trembling hand to the latch of the door, a polite-yet-firm inquiry on her lips when the building was rocked by a sudden, deafening explosion. A blast of hot air slammed into her back and everything went dark. 

***

Elivera’s head rang as she struggled to open her eyes. The air was warm and heavy, and unusually hot. With a grunt, she got to her knees, frantically blinking her eyes open. The intensity of the surrounding darkness startled her, and for a terrified moment, she thought that her fall had harmed her vision. 

“Arv!” she said, “Neyra! Shamil! Anyone?!”  

“Here,” came the soft bellow of Arv’s deep voice, cracking ever so slightly at the end. She felt his large hand fumble into her back, and she could just barely see his angular, orcish features in the oppressive dim. 

“What just happened?” Shamil asked, voice not too far off. Neyra soon followed, coughing with a strained voice, 

“I’m here. Where are you? I can’t see a thing.” 

“Climb on, quick! We’re getting out of here,” Arv said. 

With an effortless snatch, he lifted Elivera off the ground and onto his shoulder. Shamil and Neyra soon followed. 

“There’s another door somewhere back here!” Shamil said, “Just keep going forward!”

“I see it,” Arv said as he propelled them through the darkness.

“How can you two see anything in this?!” Elivera asked with exasperation, straining her eyes even harder. 

“Dark vision,” Neyra said from the other side of Arv’s back. Right, Elivera thought. Perhaps she hit her head harder than she thought. 

Just as Arv approached the door, a shape (almost bigger than Arv) came barreling past them,

“Move!” he hissed, whipping gnarled hands out to shove Arv aside. The man scrambled past them and threw open the door. His ornate maroon robes swished as he ran out into the open air.  

“The soothsayer!” Neyra called. Elivera couldn’t tell if her sister spoke with disgust or with awe. She knew how much she wanted to meet the strange fellow, but the bastard was running away from them! 

“Arv, after him!” 

Arv needed no convincing to rush after the man. As they passed the building’s threshold, the oppressive darkness eased up, but not by much. It couldn’t have been any later than early evening, but it was already dark. Elivera’s ears finally stopped ringing and, with terror, she could finally make out the distant sounds of screams. What was happening?

“Hey, you!” Arv said, his orcish lungs propelling the shout forward with a terrifying energy, “Stop right there! What did you DO?!” 

The man glanced over his shoulder in absolute terror, his beady eyes widening at the sight of Arv. His legs moved faster. The man was scrambling to gain ground as he made his way north up the main road.

With a sudden jerk, Elivera’s face slammed into Arv’s shoulder. He had stopped, and abruptly at that. Shamil and Neyra grunted as well, recovering from the sudden lurch. 

“Ow! What was that for?!” Shamil asked.

“Oh, hush!” Arv said. Elivera peered down to see that Arv had stopped to rummage through a crate near the smithy, Master Stev’s house, 

“What are you even doing?” Elivera asked, “He’s getting away!” 

Arv snapped back with a venom that was unusual for his normally mild manner, 

“Catchin’ him’ll mean nothin’ if I don’t have something to whack ‘em with, Elle! Aha!” 

He pulled two slightly rusty harpoons from the crate, testing their weight in his hands.

“These’ll do.” 

He tensed his legs to get up and run again when they heard it. A strange, whistling shriek echoed across the sky, carried on a green ball of fire. Elivera froze as she watched it lance forward, its sickly light breaking the unnatural dark. It screamed with fury as it struck true, crashing directly on top of the soothsayer. Elivera swore she could hear a sickening pop through the boom of the impact. Her stomach churned with bile as a fine red mist covered them from head to toe with all that remained of the robed man. A small crater steamed in the ground not too far ahead of them, a grave that they would have shared with the soothsayer had Arv not stopped. 

“Home,” Neyra said, all color gone from her cheeks. Shamil swallowed and wiped the gore from her face, devoid of expression. Elivera shuddered and closed her eyes. She buried her head into Arv’s shirt, and he ran. 

***

Neyra took shallow, forced breaths as she held onto Arv with sweaty, clammy hands. Her head was spinning, and her blood ran ice cold. This was a nightmare. It had to be. Wails of agony still pierced the night, fading slightly as they put distance between themselves and the center of town. Neyra considered just how many times in her life she cursed the distance of their house from the amenities of town and the waters of the sea, but now she couldn’t be more grateful. As they grew closer to the cluster of homes, the mists of darkness eased. The oppressive dark hadn’t reached their home, not yet. Neyra finally felt as if she wasn’t half-blind. With desperation, she scanned the approaching dwellings. Light filled the windows of their home, and she could see shadows moving inside. She choked out a cry of relief as they skidded to a halt in front of the house. There was her father, her blessed, wonderful, wonderful father, rushing out to greet them.  

“Kids!” He said, rushing to help the girls down off Arv’s back, “Barcus! Shamil is here! I told you they’d have her!”

 He kept his eyes locked on the children, not daring to look away. There was a clanging crash as a stocky, frazzled gnome came running out of the house. 

“Millie!” With a cry of relief, he scooped an indignant Shamil into his burly arms. He shook as he held her, obviously trying to restrain tears, 

“I’m fine, Da,” Shamil said. From behind the two gnomes came another voice, familiar and warm.

“Thank the old Gods above!” she said, “We were coming to get you!” 

Neyra’s eyes widened in shock as a figure in full plate armor came clattering out of the doorway. Though covered in small dents, and not particularly polished, the armor was resplendent. Neyra had seen nothing quite like it in her life. Gauntleted hands reached up to remove the helm, revealing the familiar sight of her mother. 

“Ma?” 

Neyra couldn’t find words to form the millions of questions running through her mind. They were all cut short as her mother crushed her in a metallic hug, dragging Elivera into her arms as well. Through tears, she looked up at Arv and their father as they came to join in the embrace. 

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“You wonderful boy,” she said, “You did so well.” 

Danya laughed and squeezed Arv’s hand tight. 

“We need to get moving,” Barcus said, walking over with four backpacks in his hands. Neyra examined her best friend’s father with fresh eyes now. Though not as intensely garbed as her mother, Barcus also wore armor. Studded leather, not plate, covered his chest and shoulders. And over that, he still wore his dingy work apron and a belt of tools around his waist. He cracked his knuckles and adjusted his thick leather gloves after dropping the bags at their feet. Brows furrowed in curiosity, Neyra whipped her head around until she found her father. She hadn’t noticed before in the heat of the moment, but he was also wearing a set of fine leather armor. Well-fletched arrows bristled from a quiver at his hip, and he was taking a moment to string a massive bow in his calloused hands. Who were these people?! And what had they done with her parents??

Elle, Shamil, and Arv seemed to notice the change in their respective parents now too, and they stared with wide eyes. Danya noted those eyes with a chuckle. 

“Yes, yes… I suppose we owe you some explanations, but later. Barcus is right, we need to move. Put those on, and quick!” 

Neyra spared a quick glance into the sturdy, yet roughly sewn pack in her hands. Tin cups and plates, canteen, wine skin, bundles of what she could only imagine were food, small knife, rope…it was an honest to Gods survival pack. How long were these sitting in their house for? Forever?? She looked back up with a start, as her mother called her. 

“Neyra! Quickly, go fetch the cloaks and coats.” 

Danya jerked her head towards the door. Neyra scrambled to her feet, slinging the pack over her shoulder as she went. She jogged into the house, mindlessly grabbing the cloaks that hung on pegs near the doorway. Her thoughts were elsewhere. With only the briefest hesitation, she hurried up the stairs to the small room she shared with Elivera. She only had a moment. Her eyes watered as she considered the handful of books on her humble shelf. She shook her head and ‌found the most important one, her notebook. She snatched the bundle that held her writing implements and stuffed them in her pack. Before even a minute had passed, she was back down the stairs and out the door. 

Her mother eyed her as she hustled past, hands full of the bundled clothing. The others were crowding around the wagon that always sat, mostly unused, tucked behind the back of the house. Barcus led his two mules to the front, eager to get them hitched. They weren’t runners, but they knew to pull well enough. He was talking quickly with Shamil, who walked by his side while rummaging through her spare pack. She pulled out the leather strap and looked at her father questioningly. 

“You know Id’ve made one for you years ago, had ya just asked! But yes, get that on him! Gods send he doesn’t need to run with you again, but better to be ready.” Shamil turned to grin at Neyra, who smiled back in earnest. 

It had taken many weeks to scavenge all the straps and buckles, and many more nights of sneaking to take measurements of Arv, who was, mercifully, a VERY deep sleeper. But it was ‌ready. 

Arv stood moments later, all strapped into something that could only be described as a halfling harness. It was of modest design. Sturdy leather straps held a small wooden “shelf” in place near the small of his back. It stretched the width of his lower back, providing just enough of a ledge for three small pairs of feet to stand on. Small, looped handles near his shoulders provided better handholds than his shirt alone. 

“Well, I’ll be,” Barcus said, looking at Neyra with a grin. “You ‌were paying attention all those days in the workshop. You and Shamil did well. It’s sturdy and effective. Count me impressed,” 

“How’s it feel, Arv?” Neyra asked as she beamed up at her brother. The fear of their situation seemed to melt away for a moment as he flexed his shoulders and rolled his arms. He hopped a little in excitement. 

“This will be SO MUCH better! Thank you!” He scooped Shamil and Neyra into a hug. 

“Time to go,” Adelard said, voice grim. He stood atop the wagon, spyglass to his eye, “We’re about to have company.”

“You heard your father! In! In!” Danya said, pushing them into the back of the wagon. Howls filled the air, and a green light pulsed from down the village road. After they were all aboard, she leapt to the front of the wagon alongside her husband. 

“Barcus! Give us some cover! We’re out of here!” 

The wagon lurched, and Neyra had to hold on to keep from tumbling out as they launched off into the unknown.  

***

Shamil felt like wooden dice in a tin cup as she rattled uncontrollably in the back of the cramped wagon. But even through all the bumps and jolts, her eyes never left her father. What strange spirit had possessed this man? He stood as if he was the hero in one of her stories, his crossbow loaded and ready. His eyes shone with unyielding focus as he scanned the distant horizon. The rattling of the wagon never seemed to phase him. A shiver raced up her spine as another howl pierced the night. She couldn’t believe this was happening. What in the gods was chasing them? 

The landscape passed by in a bumpy blur, landmarks just barely registering to Shamil’s frazzled mind. They were about a mile outside of town now, with nothing but a few warehouses and storage sheds dotting the grassy plains. 

“So the soothsayer’s dead?!” Danya shouted into the back of the wagon. Her head craned back and nearly touched with Neyra’s, who stood on tiptoes to reach her mother. Shamil’s best friend was furiously trying to explain what had happened. 

“Damned coward,” Adelard said as he gave the reins another snap, “Hiding in the back room, making you come to him. I told him to wait for you outside!” He had to shout to be heard, “Danya! Take these, love.” 

With practiced expertise, Ma Tallfellow took control of the wagon, allowing her husband to hop into the back with Barcus and the children. He motioned for them to huddle close to him, all except her father, who kept his post. 

“The man gave a divination, you see. He told the council, in no uncertain terms, that danger was coming to our shores. A danger, he said, that we stood no hope of fighting against.” His eyes darkened. “Once the arguing began, I knew we had no choice but to run, no choice but to get home and get prepared. I left him with explicit instructions to help you if you came, fat lot of good that did.” he shook his head in disgust, “I should have stayed. I should have done something better. I’m so sorry.” 

Shamil stared at him with wide eyes. She had never seen Master Tallfellow so vulnerable, a state made all the stranger by the armor and equipment he wore. She glanced at Elivera, Neyra, and Arv, trying to imagine what they must be thinking. Elivera clung to her brother, using his leg to keep steady in the wagon's jostling. Her expression was strained, and her eyes glistened with a soft sheen of tears as her father spoke to them. Arv crouched down as small as he could make himself, but he kept his head held high. His yellow eyes almost glowed in the dim light as he stared ahead at his father. She couldn’t read him, which was quite unusual for the normally expressive orc. Shamil sucked in a sharp breath as she glanced at Neyra. 

Neyra was her oldest and best friend, a near-sister to her in every conceivable way. And as such, Shamil was quite apt at understanding how her mind worked, how she handled things. Neyra was putting up a front. Shamil knew she was trying to be brave for her siblings, brave for her, but she was barely keeping it together. Her knuckles were white, clenched in fists at the sides of her slight frame. Auburn brows furrowed over her big brown eyes, and Neyra almost looked fierce, if not for the slight quiver in her lower lip. 

“Da,” she said, “You don’t have to be sorry. We-” 

Neyra’s words cut short as a familiar shrieking whine screeched through the air. 

“INCOMING!” Shamil’s father bellowed as he threw himself at her with desperate speed. Her father’s arms enveloped her little body as an explosion rocked the ground right next to their wagon. 

***

If the day had not already been full of impossible things, Neyra would’ve been shocked at the word that left her mother’s mouth. 

“Shit!” Danya yelled. The wagon tipped dangerously to one side as she lost control of the beasts reined in her hands. 

“Out! Out!” Barcus shouted, Shamil still clutched in his arms. He sprang out of the wagon with surprising strength, bearing his daughter away from the impending crash. 

“Arv! Get Elle!” Adelard yelled as he scooped Neyra up.

Before she knew what was happening, Neyra crashed to the ground in a heap with her father. Through blurry eyes, she could see her brother bearing Elle to safety as the wagon careened out of control. Her mother soon followed, jumping out to land with a loud clank before the wagon tipped over. Hot air swept Neyra’s face as fire struck again, this time catching the back of the now-empty wagon. 

“Go!” Her father’s voice sounded muffled as he held her tighter to his chest. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing as her father spirited her away into the fading light. 

***

Elivera clung desperately to her brother as they left the wagon behind. They fled off the road, taking a direct path to one of the old storage houses that stood on the outskirts of town. Night was coming in truth now, made all the worse by that awful black mist that was slowly encroaching on them. Compared to Arv and Shamil, Elle’s eyes were useless in darkness like this. Despite that fact, she could see enough. And what she saw made her want to shut her eyes forever. 

Small, flickering pinpricks of light dotted the tree line. Orange and metallic, they reminded her of how Arv’s eyes would catch the light in a pitch black room. A bone chilling howl named those lights for what they were, the eyes of wolves. Even with that information, horrible enough as it was, she wasn't truly prepared for the creature that prowled out from under the deepest dark of the mists. This was no natural beast. 

It resembled a wolf, though it stood even larger than the wagon they had just abandoned. Long, thick quills jutted from matted gray fur, and they bristled and quivered as the beast shook its head. The monstrosity exuded pure terror, a terror that remained unmatched in Elivera’s heart until she saw its rider. 

Hunched over the beast’s back was a figure clad in armor black as obsidian. The plates overlapped in a haphazard mess of straps and savage spikes, wet with blood. In its hands it clutched a wicked spear, its pointed tip raised directly at them in challenge. 

Abruptly, Arv turned a corner, whip lashing her around like a rag doll as they fled into the cover of the small cluster of storage buildings. Elivera’s heart felt as if it was trying to pound its way out of her chest. 

“Here! Quickly! Quickly!” Danya said, wrenching the massive door open and ushering them inside. The wood groaned with the unexpected use, hinges creaking in protest as she forced enough room for them to rush in. The musty air was nearly pitch black, the only light coming from a small lantern that Neyra clutched in trembling hands. 

“No! No no no!” Shamil said. Her strangled whimper pierced the dim, causing Elle to redirect her gaze. She watched with tearful eyes as her own father restrained Shamil, holding her tight as Barcus pressed a kiss to her shaking forehead. Elle couldn’t hear what Barcus said to his daughter. She only watched as he sprinted out the door with his crossbow raised and loaded.   

Adelard slowly released a numb Shamil, giving her a reassuring squeeze as he set her on the floor next to Neyra, who was nodding slowly as their mother talked to her in furious whispers. 

“Arv, quickly! Help with this,” Adelard said. With a thump, Elle found herself deposited on the ground as Arv rushed to help their father. The two were lifting the lid off of a large crate, wood splintering slightly as they pried it open. “It will do, lad.” Adelard turned to find Elle in the darkness. With a forlorn sigh, he scooped her up into his arms, holding her head to his shoulder as they walked to the open crate. She didn’t know when she started crying. Her father’s voice came to her in only a whisper, the words barely registering to her frazzled mind. 

“Listen to me, Elle. Your mother and I are so proud of you. Your spirit, your ferocity, your cleverness  — never forget it. I—I love you, my little one.”

His voice was cracking by the end as he gently set her down in the deeper darkness of the crate. Elle was glad she couldn’t see his face because it surely would have broken her more. Her own face was a mess of tears, falling hot down her cheeks. 

“Now you, Arv. You’ll fit just barely, there’s a good lad…” the rest of his words to Arv drowned out in Elle’s mind as she put her whole effort into not falling completely apart. She barely registered as Arv’s giant legs swung into the crate, gently avoiding her. Arv was sniffing as he reached out to take Shamil, who was completely silent. The girls clung together near Arv. Finally, a soft light came as Danya approached the crate, holding a trembling Neyra in her arms. Armor clanked softly as she pressed a tender kiss onto Neyra’s head. The lamp’s light struck Neyra’s face, briefly illuminating a gaze that was completely hollow, her tears long spent. She joined the others, clutching the small lantern as if it was anchoring her to life itself. 

“We love you.” Danya whispered, and the lid of the crate crashed shut. 

***

Neyra shut her eyes and whispered,

“One, two, three, four…” her voice felt prickly and dry, and she could have done the job just as well in her mind, but saying the words out loud was the only thing keeping her grounded. Listen to me, Neyra. My sweet Neyra, you must be strong. A lump swelled in her throat as she suppressed a shudder, her mother’s voice echoing in her mind. Barcus is distracting them, but he needs our help. He won’t last on his own. 

“Fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three…” 

Even from the inside of the crate, a crate tucked far into the back of the warehouse, a warehouse that stood behind heavy wooden doors, the sounds of battle still reached her. Muffled as they were, the horrible noise still made bile rise in her throat. The howls and snarls of wolves, the guttural cries that could only be the black armored warriors, the clang of metal on metal, all of it made a sickening cacophony in her mind. Stay hidden, stay safe, and don’t dare try to leave this spot until the count of eight hundred. Can you do that, my girl? 

“Ninety-seven, ninety-eight…” 

Her fingers trembled around the lamp, casting eerie shadows in the confines of the crate. Her brother and sister took deep, deliberate breaths, each in their own world of grief right now, just as she was. Shamil just stared with empty eyes into the heart of the flickering lamp. Do you remember where we picnicked this summer? Just off the main road, the giant tree you all love so much? Yes, good. When the coast is clear, you take your siblings and Shamil and you make for that tree. It’s not too far, just a couple miles north. You know the way. 

“One hundred fifty-seven, one hundred fifty-eight, one hundred fifty-nine…” 

From out in the distance, an explosion rocked the ground, sending slight tremors all the way to their hiding spot. We will hold them off. We’ve dealt with worse before. But we may have to lead them off of your trail. Wait at the tree, if we aren’t there by sunrise you MUST continue north, do you understand? Make for Zerial. There’s a government office there. You MUST tell them what happened here. 

Finally, the sounds of the fight eased. To her horror, Neyra heard the faint, continued howls of the bestial wolves. Whatever the struggle had been, that ominous sound did not bode well for the fates of her parents. 

Eventually, silence. Not a sound from outside drifted into their small enclosure. She looked up and paled at the sight of her siblings. 

Gone was Elivera’s amiable smile, and her brown eyes peeked from puffy eyelids still red from tears, staring listlessly at the flickering lantern light. She just sat there, little arms curled around her gangly pre-teen legs, rocking back and forth against Arv.

Keep an eye on our little one, her mother had said with a forced smile, hopelessly trying to comfort a child close to panic. Elivera’s a handful, but her tenacity will be a strength to you both! Trust her, trust in each other, but most importantly, watch over her. She looks up to you more than you know. Neyra squeezed her eyes tight, fighting to keep that image of her mother alive in her mind while also bearing the unspeakable weight of her words. Mother had embraced her then, handing her the small lantern. 

“I’ve lost count,” Neyra said, her small voice shaking. Nobody answered her. She looked around the crate. Shamil crouched in front of her, her shoulders slumped, as she hung her head down to look at the wooden slats below them. She muttered something inaudible and shook her head. Elivera just kept staring. Craning her neck slightly, Neyra looked up at Arv. 

His green skin twisted between his brows, which sat furrowed in concentration. She couldn’t tell if they were tears or sweat, but small droplets streaked his cheeks and forehead. Take care of our boy, Neyra. Don’t you ever let him forget who he is. The world might try to make him into something he’s not…don’t let it. You know how much he looks up to you, too. He has since the day we found him. Neyra cried in earnest at this point in the conversation, as her mother led her to the crate and scooped her into her arms. And that leads me to this. Watch over them, Neyra. Protect them, take care of them. But, most importantly, let them take care of YOU. You can’t do this alone. Neyra pressed trembling fingers to her cheek, trying to feel where that last kiss from her mother had been. Your father and I are so very proud of you, my little love. Never forget. 

“Eight hundred!” Arv said with a jolt, almost as if coming out of a trance. A strange pang struck Neyra’s heart. At least someone came through where I failed. He looked around at the little ones beneath him. “Reckon we can move now?”

“Maybe,” Neyra said, “Lift me up, I’ll go take a look,”

“Not alone, you won’t!” Shamil spat, head snapping up from her shoulders as she scrambled to her feet. 

“Fine, fine‌! All of us, let’s go. But quietly,”

The wood of the lid creaked as Arv poked his head out of the crate. With a surprising amount of grace, Arv gripped the bulky lid in hand and set it gently to the side. “I don’t see anything strange, don’t hear nothin’ either,” he muttered. 

“Everyone hop on,” Neyra whispered, climbing up to her spot on Arv’s back. She felt too drained to even admire the workmanship of the harness, which did its job marvelously. Carefully, she closed the window of the lantern completely, hiding its small light entirely. Elivera whimpered ever so slightly as she did so. Neyra reached out to grab her sister’s hand, providing a quick squeeze, “We can’t risk being seen, okay?” 

“Okay,” Elivera replied in a tiny whisper, squeezing Neyra’s hand back. Arv quickly secured everyone on his back and hopped out of the crate, leading them all out into the silent darkness of the warehouse. 

***

Arv blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the new lighting. It was fully night now, and while to him their surroundings stood in perfect (albeit black and white) clarity. He knew that without the lantern, Elivera and Neyra would be as good as blind. Not for the first time this night, he gave a silent prayer of thanks for his orcish blood, which would help him bear his family to safety. 

“Shamil,” he whispered, careful to keep his voice low, “How are your eyes?” 

“Good enough,” she muttered from her spot behind his shoulder, seeing the world just as he did, “And you?”

Arv’s only reply was an affirmative grunt as he carefully wove their way through the crates and boxes of the cluttered warehouse. As he stepped, Neyra whispered to them in a strained voice, telling them about what Danya had said. They needed to make their way north, with or without their parents. Arv swallowed as a bead of sweat trickled down his face. They soon reached the door that their parents led them through such a short time earlier. Arv paused and took an extra moment to listen to the night. It seemed eerily quiet, not even the sounds of the night creatures and the wind in the grass came to him, no matter how hard he strained his ears. Ever so slowly, he reached out and pulled the great door open just a crack to peer out into the open night. 

He could barely make out the smoldering remains of the cart in the distance. Feeble flames still danced in spots. Other small patches of light dotted the landscape, varying in intensity. Towards the direction of the village, he swore that the sky held that eerie glow that spoke of burning buildings. But there was no time to worry or wonder. He forced himself to focus on what was right in front of him. 

If the battle happened just outside, it left surprisingly little evidence. Small spatters and smears of blood covered the ground thirty paces outside of the warehouse door, making a grim trail deeper off into the woods. Neyra’s small hand tapped his shoulder with urgency.      

“What do you see?”

“Blood,” Arv took a step forward as if to follow it, “They must’ve gone that way.”

“Then they did what they said,” Shamil said from his other side, “They led them away, but for how long?” Her voice was as cold as ice, and Arv could feel her hands tense on his shoulder. 

Neyra took a shuddering breath that tickled the back of Arv’s neck. 

“Let’s go,” she said, each word sounding as if it took a battle to leave her mouth. Arv exhaled a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding, and with legs made of lead, he started the trudge north into the abyssal night. 

***

Shamil loved her gnomish eyes. She especially loved how they allowed her to see the secret beauty and life of the night, a beauty few others were privileged to see. But the evening sights, which once enthralled her senses with joy, now seemed a bleak and horrible backdrop to the tragedy that had unfolded that night. 

Shamil didn’t know how long they walked. Well…how long Arv walked. The night scenery passed by in a hazy, bumpy blur as Arv jogged in brief spurts, careful to keep as quiet as he could. The four children were unusually quiet. There was no chatter, no teasing, no sound at all but labored breathing and whimpers from sore throats. Shamil felt as if her chest might implode from the stress. She wished for nothing more than to bury her face in Arv’s back and just shut everything out. But the Tallfellows needed her. They needed her eyes; they needed her strength. Shamil wanted to be strong. She wanted to be everything they needed, but it was all so much. Her Da’s words came to her as she held tight to Arv’s shirt. Remember how much I love you. Never EVER forget it. Protect them, protect each other. Make me proud, my Millie.

Her eyes began to blur and sting with tears as she shook her head, forcing them back down. 

“Later. Feel it all later,” she muttered, voice barely a whisper. She was confident the Tallfellows could still hear her. But she was long past the point of caring. Neyra let go of her harness handle long enough to place her hand on Shamil’s, giving it a weak squeeze. Shamil knew she was exhausted. They all were, but the gesture gave her heart that bit of strength she needed. 

Arv suddenly grunted and stopped in his tracks, chest heaving from the exertion. Shamil scanned the forest ahead, eyes searching for that familiar sight. And there it was, the enormous tree. She gave Arv a pat on the back, 

“I see it too! Good job, big guy,” 

She slipped off of the harness and onto the cold ground. Two soft thumps announced Elivera and Neyra’s presence on the ground behind her. Shamil turned and grabbed their hands, knowing that they were as good as blind out here. 

“Do you think you’ve climbed this enough to manage it in the dark?” She hissed, leading their hands to touch the rough, familiar bark of their favorite tree. 

“I…I think so,” Elle whispered, reaching her arms out to the knots and grooves that they blessedly knew by heart. But before she could make it far, Shamil saw Arv’s big hand on the back of Elle’s shirt, lifting her effortlessly up the lowest branch of the giant tree. 

A distant howl pricked Shamil’s ears as she watched, spurring her to climb the tree alongside Neyra, who was now being hoisted in the same way as her sister had. The girls scooted quickly to their preferred spots in the great branches of the tree, making room for Arv, who climbed after. 

Shamil strained her ears, but now she could only hear the rustling of leaves in the wind. She took a deep breath and then she spoke in the softest of whispers. 

“Arv, you need to rest. Neyra and I will keep watch. Well…I’ll watch. Neyra will listen.” She spared a glance at Neyra, who nodded with a grimace. 

“I can still keep a lookout for torches. And she’s right. Arv, Elle,” she nudged them slightly, “Try to rest. Okay? We’ll wake you.” 

Arv looked at them ‌with his big, yellow eyes before sighing and muttering his agreement. Elle didn’t need as much convincing. They made themselves as comfortable as they could while staying huddled under the protective cover of the leaves. Arv had his arms wrapped protectively around Elivera, who shuddered slightly in the cold breeze. Then their labored breathing finally slowed. If complete sleep hadn’t come, at least some measure of rest had instead. Shamil rubbed her eyes, trying to blink some more strength into them. It was going to be a long night. 

***

Arv woke with a start to the booming sound of howls, howls that seemed horrifically close to their tree shelter. Frantically, he looked side to side, counting the little heads that were huddled around him. Elle stirred slightly, waking up with his sudden movement. Shamil and Neyra both hurried to put steadying hands on his arm. Shamil frantically signaled with her free hand to not make a sound. Arv followed her eyes, scanning the woods below them with intensity. It didn’t take long for him to make out the small dots of light in the distance. They could be nothing but torches, or maybe lanterns? They were moving at a steady pace, but seemed to pick up speed with the next bestial howl. 

The wind kicked up, and with it, a new sound that made his blood run ice cold. Screams. Not just any screams, screams of children. From this distance, he couldn’t be sure, but in his heart, he knew who the voices belonged to. Villagers. Pirians. Friends. Children who grew up right alongside him. And they had been found. 

“No! NOOOO! Stop!” A shrill, squeaking voice pierced the night, followed by a gurgling cry. He heard a small gasping sound from his side as a pale-faced Neyra sat there in horror, hands to her mouth as if forcing herself not to scream. Elle whimpered in the crook of his arm, her face buried to keep the sounds away. Shamil just looked dead ahead with the same intensity as Arv, focused on the bobbing lights. Her brows scrunched and her cheeks flushed with rage. Arv felt his knuckles turn white as the sounds continued their awful chorus. 

“SOMEONE HELP US! PLEASE HELP!” another child’s voice pleaded into the unforgiving night, its words rising above the surrounding screams and howls. Instead of ice, Arv’s blood ran now like fire. The rage building inside him seemed ready to burst. He could take them, he could do something, he could — his line of thought cut short as he felt a hand on his face. Neyra gently forced him to turn back and look at her. Her freckled cheeks glistened with tears, and she trembled as she shook her head. She mouthed the words, grimacing in pain as she did. We can’t. We just can’t, Arv. 

Arv looked into his sister’s face for just a moment before hanging his head in angry defeat, that burning hot rage now leaking out of his eyes. What good was his gods-forsaken strength if he couldn’t use it to help?! The screams continued to echo in the distance, intermingled with guttural shouts and the howls of those beasts. He gritted his teeth into a snarl hard enough to make his tusks prick his upper lip. Neyra just kept her hand on him, stroking his forehead with her thumb. Elivera continued her soft cries into his side, clutching at him as if she might fall. Arv spared one brief glance up, and met Shamil’s eyes as she stared ahead, torches and death reflecting in her eyes. 

***

Neyra and Shamil eventually took their turn to rest, but not until the sounds of the nearby slaughter were well gone. And after what seemed to be an eternal night, Neyra finally blinked her bleary eyes into the first true light of day. The sun was finally, blessedly, making its grand appearance on the distant horizon. It felt like the first light she had seen in a lifetime. Her eyes drifted to her siblings and, although she expected it, she was still startled to see the state of them. Soot, sweat, dirt, and soothsayer blood covered them all from head to toe. But they were alive. For now. 

She took quick stock of their belongings as the others stirred. They managed their flight through the night with all four packs still in their possession, their contents all accounted for. While the sun warmed her skin, she still felt cold inside as she realized what the morning light meant. Dawn had come, and their parents were still nowhere to be seen. 

“Neyra?” Elivera asked, her head poking out of her disheveled cloak. With a small smile, Neyra leaned over closer to her little sister and placed a comforting hand on her cheek as she continued, “Where’s Ma and Da? Have they made it yet?” 

Before she could respond, she felt Shamil stir behind her.

“No sign yet, or Arv would’ve woken us,” Shamil said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, “He couldn’t sleep after…after that. He’s been up there all night.” She pointed further up the tree and Neyra could just make out the shadowy outline of her brother's feet crouched on one of the stronger branches. With a sigh, Neyra gathered herself up and crept up towards Arv’s perch. She had to climb even higher to sit at eye level with him, straining her neck to see through the leaves. 

“Mornin, sis,” Arv said. His voice was monotone, and his eyes barely seemed to register that she was there. He focused on the sky to the South of them. Neyra turned her head and found herself hooked on the sight with the same intensity as Arv.

There seemed to be a massive wall of black just a few miles away from their refuge. The terror that leapt into her throat announced this “wall” for what it truly was, the same black clouds of death that had descended on their home. 

“Hasn’t moved, as far as I can tell,” He said, finally turning to look at her in earnest. “And I haven’t seen anythin’ else come out of it neither. Not those riders, or…” His voice trailed off, leaving the meaning of his words hanging in the air. Neyra took a breath and nodded. 

“We–we can wait? Just a little ‌longer?” She looked at Arv, hoping to the Gods that she didn’t look as scared as she felt. Arv shook his head glumly and turned to face her. Bloodshot veins rimmed his golden yellow irises, and exhaustion made his eyelids look puffy and dark. 

“Maybe,” he said, turning back to stare at the doom on the horizon, “But what if it moves again?”

Neyra gulped and squeezed her eyes shut. 

“One more hour. Just one. Okay? I have all our things. We’re ready to leave at a second’s notice.” She put her little hand on her brother's arm, and his big one soon covered it. He gave her a squeeze and nodded his head.  

“Okay.” 

***

The hour came and went with devastating speed, and still their parents never arrived. 

From her brother’s back, Elivera could turn and get a good view of the tree, still in the same place it had been, just rapidly shrinking as they gained distance. Her heart lurched in her throat when the familiar sight finally left her view completely, the finality of their situation setting in. 

Her life was changed forever. She glanced over at Neyra and was struck by how hollow and defeated her older sister looked. It was profoundly unsettling. And although she couldn’t see Arv’s face, she could feel from the way he held himself that he was just as haunted and dejected as Neyra was. What were they going to do? What was she going to do? Her older siblings were always the ones there for her. But who would take care of them? Their parents were gone, and they were on their own. She needed to be brave, braver than she had ever been. 

There was no going back to who she used to be. Gone was the little girl who trailed along behind her big sister and brother, always struggling to keep up, always trying to prove she could do what they could. That girl was dead. She died the moment she was placed in that box. She was something stronger now. She had to be. There was no doubt in her tiny heart as it thundered away with determination. No matter what came their way, she would not be a burden. Not this time.

***

Neyra sent a silent prayer up to the old gods as the great walls of Zerial appeared in the distance. She was almost certain that they were lost, on multiple occasions, in fact. But their combined survival skills had delivered them to safety. 

The long journey north had passed without incident…almost suspiciously without incident. As the days went by, they found themselves almost confused at the lack of peril. They traveled by daylight, staying just off of the main road, taking care to look out for others who may have escaped. But as the miles passed on and on, they never saw another soul. Not until a man came jogging up the road about a mile outside the city gates. 

“Hail!” He said in a booming voice, “What news from the south?” Arv came to a stop and looked down at the man with a suspicious stare, his grip tightening ever so slightly on his harpoon. The man continued on, either not noticing their tension or not caring, “We’ve been expecting no less than ten caravans and none have shown, save you lot. Has there been a quake? A storm? What sort of calamity could have possibly kept all but a ragtag group of…” he looked at Arv carefully, “... kids? from traveling our Southern road?”

Neyra took a deep breath. 

“We…there was an attack. Black clouds came from the sea and swallowed our town. Black riders came with them, they…they…” Her voice broke and she shuddered with the memories. 

“Have there really been no others?” Shamil asked, giving the man an incredulous look from atop Arv’s back. He had gone pale at Neyra’s words. 

“Well shit. They told me, but I didn’t believe…” He shook his head, knuckles to his forehead. “You’d best follow me. The judges will want to talk to you.” 

Without another word, the man did an about face and started back up the road he came. Arv hustled after him. 

***

“We received a missive. Just one, delivered by bird. Said the same as you, black clouds, dark riders…death and destruction. But we didn’t know if it was true. Judge Harlan sent some scouts down south, but none’ve come back. And now I’m afraid they never will.” 

The man spoke in a hushed tone as he led them through the city gates. The exhaustion and trauma of the last weeks still wasn't enough to keep them from staring, mouths agape, and the fantastic sights around them. 

The brightly painted buildings screamed out in shades of orange and blue and red and green, their equally colorful tiled rooftops glistening in the noonday sun. Smells from a thousand different sources wafted through the air, some delightful, some foul. Children ran and played ball through the winding streets, their bare feet clapping on the smooth cobblestones. Vendors shouted from every corner, selling flowers and fruits of every color and size imaginable. Arv gave a start as he saw an orc walk by, easily two feet taller than him, his tusks and muscles pronounced and matured. Arv’s gaze followed him as he passed, unable to keep from staring. His mouth fell agape and a strange feeling gripped his chest as he continued to look at the first adult orc he had ever seen in his life. 

The crowd turned even more diverse the further the man led them into the city, persons of all shapes and colors and sizes mingling about their business. Arv’s stomach growled as they passed a stand selling various meats on sticks, the pain reminding him of the weeks spent foraging on the road. But there would be time enough for that later…he hoped. 

Before long, the group found themselves in front of a grand building in the city's center. It was easily ten times the size of the town hall in Piria, and a hundred times as extravagant. Without even a pause to admire the craftsmanship, the man hurried them up the steps and through a set of massive doors. The interior matched what Arv expected, with furniture finer than anything else he had ever seen. Colors assaulted his eyes from every direction, and the sweet smell of flowers filled his nose as they approached a stern-looking woman sitting at a counter. The man whispered to her, and she nodded, turning to look at Arv and the three little people on his back. She raised an eyebrow and adjusted the spectacles on her nose. 

“Take a seat. The judge will be available shortly.” She gestured to a plush bench off to the side of the room. “And take these. You must be starving.” 

Arv’s mouth watered as she handed over a tray of beans and rice with flatbread. Not his favorite, but he would eat anything at this point. He took it with a grateful nod and stepped over to the bench. Three little thumps struck the floor, and he felt as the weight of the girls left his back. With a sigh, he sank down onto the bench, allowing at least a small part of him to relax for the first time in weeks. His sisters and Shamil took what they needed from the plate, and only then did Arv eat. It barely put a dent in the growling hole in his stomach, but he was still grateful‌. Arv looked one more time at the girls huddled on the bench beside him. Then he leaned back, closed his eyes, and fell asleep. 

***

Shamil stared ahead at the painting on the wall. It was some exotic bird, probably from somewhere up north. She didn’t know, and she didn’t care. It was a shitty painting, anyway. Her head ached and her eyes burned from the strain, but she kept staring. If she stared hard enough, maybe the howls of wolves and the smell of blood would get out of her head. 

All was quiet save the scratch of the stern woman’s quill at her desk, and the unusually gentle snores of Arv beside her. She glanced over at Neyra and Elle. They stared dead ahead at the painting as well, trying to forget, just as she was. 

“High Judge Harlan will see you now,” 

Shamil blinked in surprise. She hadn’t even heard the woman approach. With a soft smile, she led them down a hallway and to an impressive door. She knocked once and gave them one more gentle smile before heading back the way she came. It was only a moment before the door swung open, revealing an older man in official looking robes. He gave a slight start at the sight of Arv, but his expression quickly softened again. 

“Ah, yes. Come in, come in.” 

He bowed to the side and ushered them into a modest office. A large desk filled one side of the room, and the walls seemed made of books for the amount of bookshelves that lined them. A bench not unlike the one they waited on stood across from the desk. He motioned for them to take a seat as he strode around to his own plush chair. The moment he sat, he went straight to business. 

“Now,” he said carefully, “I understand it may cause great distress to relive it, but I need you to tell me exactly what happened to your village. Spare no detail. I need you to remember everything you can. Please,” 

The children glanced at one another apprehensively, and Shamil gave Neyra a reassuring nod. Shamil watched as her best friend took a deep breath and spoke. 

It took them nearly an hour to relay the whole harrowing experience. Judge Harlan interrupted occasionally, asking for clarification or pressing for more detail. But he was empathetic and gentle as he listened. His quill scratched furiously as he took notes of everything that was said. At the end of it all, he leaned back in his chair with a sigh. 

“I wish I could tell you that your parents arrived before you did, but they did not.‌ If they arrive, we will inform you immediately.” 

Shamil’s heart sank as he said it, even though it was news she had braced herself for.

“Now, as for this army of shadow, it is unlike anything I have ever heard of in the entire existence of this continent. I fear that if what you say is true, more is at stake than the southern villages. Much, much more.” He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I have a great deal to think about, and much more to report to my superiors. But please know that what you’ve provided me might save the lives of thousands. You’ve done a great service, and your parents would be proud.” 

He smiled sadly at them as Elle sniffled. Harlan opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment. 

“So…what now?” Shamil asked, watching as he scribbled. He looked up, his quill only pausing for the briefest moment. 

“Yes, that is what I am attending to…” he said, adding the last flourish to his writing. He then poured wax and pressed in his ring. He leaned over the desk and handed the sheet to Neyra, who took it with shaking hands. 

“Just a few blocks north of here is an establishment called Greybeard’s Tavern. I am good friends with the proprietor. He’s an odd fellow, but a good man. Show this to him. He’ll know you’ve come on my order. Master Greybeard will take you in. At least until your parents arrive in the city.” 

He rose from his seat, and the rest of them followed. “Until we next meet,” he said, bowing as Shamil followed the Tallfellows out of the room in a haze. 

Soon they stood in front of a bustling tavern, sealed paper in hand. 

“This is the place.” Neyra said, looking up at the sign that swayed and creaked in the breeze. She steeled herself, raised her chin up, and boldly walked through the double doors, the others hustling after her. 

***

Greybeard was indeed a bit of a strange fellow. For a start, he had no first name, or at least none he would willingly disclose. He just went by Greybeard. He claimed to be in his three hundreds, pretty old for a dwarf, but Neyra could swear just by looking into his eyes that he was much older than that. Perhaps it was just his grandfatherly wisdom, or the confidence with which he ran his business. But no matter the dwarf’s age, Judge Harlan was right. He was a good man. And he took all four of them in immediately, with no question.

 He was a dwarf in every sense of the word, the top of his balding head only reaching to Arv’s waist. His bushy beard was a little more white than gray, and it certainly was the most distinctive thing about him. He did everything in his power to make them feel at home in his tavern, giving them full access to the upstairs living quarters. And as the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months, he became more and more of a father figure to them. He gave them a home, gave them work, and gave them love. And several months later, when those cursed shadows appeared on the horizon once again, he took them by their hands and they all fled together.