His breath no longer fogged when Karl Starai paused atop the small hill just south of his Hylan ranch. The morning had been chilly, but the rising sun had warmed things up a bit. He stopped more to examine the children on their trek to the witch’s mansion than to rest from his run. He had decided not to attend the departure of the children at Clayton Field more for their sakes than his. Xahn and Dahn needed to feel he trusted them to handle themselves, and he did. True, both had much growing-up to do, but they had spirit and determination stronger than steel. Still, Karl worried about them, especially Dahn. Xahn missed his mother, but he had accepted her loss and was moving on with his life. Dahn was still quite fragile, even this many years after Suhan’s passing.

Karl barely felt winded, even halfway through his run. Each day before sunrise, he made a ten-mile loop from his ranch house, running eastward along the South Road until it turned into a footpath that followed the South Fork Creek, fording the stream just before it turned north, and following it back to the ranch house. Running in the mornings was a habit he’d developed as a young soldier for the Dasch army. Though that life was long behind him, Karl had grown to depend upon these daily runs as much to clear his head as to keep his body strong. The Vessel in Heaven knew he had enough exercise around the ranch to maintain his strength.

Despite the chill in the fresh-smelling air, Karl wore only a light cotton shirt, a pair of thin gray llama-wool britches, a backpack made of burlap and leather straps, and the special shoes he’d devised to be both strong and protective on the rocky paths of Hylan, yet light enough for long distances. When combined with a thick pair of llama-wool stockings, they were quite comfortable.

Karl removed his pack and took out a rather large canteen of water, from which he drank greedily. He dug through the various contents of the pack: past the small burlap bags of nuts and dried berries he ate for breakfast, around a pair of slotted goggles a Hahn trader from the north had given him to cut the glare on sunny days, and pushed aside other objects. He was looking for a pair of gloves or mittens. The run had left him warm and sweating profusely, except for his hands. The air had actually made them cold and stiff. Arms and legs kept moving, and even his chest and head stayed warm as he pushed himself, but his hands just hung there and seemed to be more susceptible to the cold air. When he was younger, he simply ignored it; now over fifty years old, Karl found his body complained a great deal more and his mind was less patient with such things. Unable to find anything to warm his hands in the pack, Karl decided he should come up with a light pair of gloves to wear when he ran in colder weather. Perhaps, he’d work on that later today.

Karl rubbed his chilled hands together, blew on them, then reached into the pack again and pulled out a silvery metal tube about two feet long and three fingers thick. He put one end of the tube to his right eye and pointed the other in the direction of Ekaterin’s house. An image of the children leapt into focus through the scope, though they were well over a mile away. The telescope was a rare item Karl had acquired years ago from one of the Fallen Angels. It supposedly had magical properties, though he had never witnessed any. The two clear Crystals within it and its solid sliver case also made it extremely valuable, which is why Karl rarely used it within view of others. Magic and value aside, it was still very handy for some situations, though.

“Like making sure that witch keeps her agreement,” Karl muttered to himself, Dasch.

Swinging the tube gently to the right, Karl’s magnified view followed the North Road towards Ekatern’s house. He saw the groups of children, older at the back led by Jayn Hatter and younger ones out front with Tami Dae. He paused just a moment at middle of the group, easily spotting his children, wearing the floppy straw hats he’d given them. He let his breath out slowly, only now realizing he’d been holding it. I hope the risk I’m taking is worth it, Karl thought. He tried to calm himself with deep, steady breaths. After a few moments, it worked. Mostly.

Karl continued the slow swing of the tube toward the witch’s mansion, watching for any dangers or impediments on the road. There was nothing. The road was clear and free from danger. He looked at the old mansion for a moment, and feelings of grief washed over him.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Suhan,” he whispered, in Glishtongue. “I’m so sorry.” A perplexing mix of overwhelming sorrow for his lost wife and relief that his children were safe washed over him. The feelings were short-lived.

Without warning, the tube suddenly went black as night. Karl pulled the thing from his eye and looked it over. There was nothing blocking it, nothing at all unusual. He glanced back at the road, where the line of children was moving steadily farther away. Nothing was between him and the North Road, all the way to Ekatern’s mansion. Confused, Karl put the tube back to his right eye and closed his left. And he did see something.

It was if a dark cloud were slowly fading away on the mountain road. As it dispersed, the witch’s house swam into view. But it looked different somehow. As he stared at the structure, Karl saw that the gates—which he had just verified were open—were now closed. And the tall, evenly spaced wrought iron pillars that made up the mansion’s fence were glowing. There was an aura about each of them that looked—was it green? As he looked closer, he saw that every fence post was now connected to the posts beside it with thousands of tiny sparks of green lightning. And the large, reddish door at the front was glowing like the sun! No, not the door itself, Karl thought. It’s that oversized golden doorknob!

Then Karl gasped and nearly dropped the tube.

Coming from all around the mansion were hundreds of massive shadowy creatures. They looked black and slimy, like they’d crawled out of a dark, damp cave somewhere. And they were huge—larger than horses. Some ran on two legs like humans, but others leapt about on all fours. Karl could have sworn a few of them were flying. All of them were converging on the witch’s mansion, trying to penetrate the fence. Green lightning exploded whenever one of the creatures touched the fence or the gates, bursting the hapless monster into tiny, glistening chunks. Even the flying ones were killed if they tried to enter from the sky. And he could hear it, Karl realized: the roar of hundreds of growling and screaming throats, the lightning strikes, the explosions, even the short-lived cries of the beasts as they were vaporized.

My children are walking into that nightmare!

But as suddenly as the dark vision had appeared, it vanished, as if another cloud—a bright one this time—had passed before the tube and wiped the entire scene away. Karl found himself looking at the mansion with its gates wide open and a line of small children happily crossing through them.

Karl lowered the tube with shaking hands. His breathing was labored, but not from running. The sweat on his body was cold, but not due to the autumn air. He had used that magnifying tube hundreds of times since the Angel had gifted it to him and nothing like this—nothing—had ever happened. Karl did not know or understand what he had just witnessed. He wondered if this strange manifestation were caused by one of Ekatern’s spells or the magical tube itself or even … could it have come from Suhan’s spirit? Was it a prophecy of the future, a warning about what could happen to Xahn and Dahn? Karl had dealt with magical forces before and even though this experience had him reeling, he did not believe he was simply losing his mind. He must respond and do it quickly—the lives of his children may very well be at stake.

Decades of training took over before he had a chance to overthink the situation. Karl steadied his breathing, stood up straight, calmed his mind, and made a strategic decision. Without wasting a moment, the old Dasch warrior began a steady jog up the North Road, replacing the tube in his pack and placing the pack on his back as did so.

There is no other choice, Karl thought, as his anxiety hardened into resolve. He had sworn an oath to Suhan as she lay dying from the Sadness—an oath to protect the children until they could protect themselves. This was an oath he intended to keep, even at his own peril. But there was more to the oath that he no longer intended to keep.

Karl increased his speed and focused his eyes on the witch’s mansion, the place he sworn to himself that he’d never set foot in again.

I am sorry, my love, he prayed silently as he ran even faster. I know I promised. And I did let them go to her today. But the truth is I never trusted that witch. She led you to the Sadness and did nothing as you slipped away from us. This vision—it means our children are in peril, I know it. I must pull them away from that witch. That crystal priestess who killed you.