There are many things that Karma is good at. For instance, she has grand magical capabilities. She is a magnificent actress and singer. The woman can even bake, despite never actually having to enter a kitchen. She can ride horses like a champion and manipulate nearly any conflict to her own advantage.

But she can’t read directions to save her life.

During her midnight business, she had poured over every modern map she had that included the border between Zagra and Hillanta. She knew she would not be transported directly to Onq, seeing as their troops had been pushed back from there. And there was no way to be discrete if she was transported to the camps in Shal.

So, she had planned directions from both Erisacren and Bukungia on foot. She hadn’t thought, when writing them, that they would be so hard to follow on foot once she arrived. Could this truly be the one thing that shes inept at? Impossible.

Her teeth grit as she pulls her right foot out of a sopping muddy puddle. The nasty water traveled up the length of her calf, stopping just before her knee. She has half a mind to scream in frustration. Why she thought that all the lands would be sunny and shinning like the capital, she has no idea.

Well, she does have an idea. She is sheltered.

This is the first time in her life that she has left the capital province on her own. This is the first time that she has had to travel by foot, that she’s had to read directions. Is this how the common people of Hillanta live? She can’t imagine being trapped in an existence so dreary, and it’s only been two days since she arrived at the border of Bukungia and Onq. She curses as she shakes the mud off her boot. A future queen shouldn’t be shrugging through dirt like this.

Because her head is filled with such thoughts, Karma paid little heed to the air around her. It warped and warmed, warning of new bodies entering her proximity, but Karma was more focused on the wetness traveling up her leg. Though the sun did not shine, a shadow drew nearer to her. “Mal!” Karma curses again, her hand swatting at the swarm of insects that have been buzzing in her ears for what seems like forever.

“Duck!”

Karma doesn’t think twice. Though she doesn’t recognize the voice, she instantly drops low, her chest hitting the wet ground and her hands splaying. Something twists and flies through the air, not stopping until it hits its target with a wet twarp! Karma rolls onto her side, her track stopped by the bag on her back. When she looks to her left, on the ground beside her, she sees to body of a pixie impaled by a javelin.

Her breath escapes her.

“Are you stupid?!” Karma stands, looking around, because she knows the man that approaches isn’t speaking to her. Not in that tone of voice. “You’re wandering around in pixie territory without a necklace of dusting in sight? So, you must be stupid.” Her jaw clenches.

Karma dusts off her pants and flips the loose wisps of her hair out of her face. Her eyes are narrowed as she responds to the rude stranger. “First, ignorance does not equate to stupidity.” She can admit that she was ignorant to the fact that this is feral pixie territory. Those little beasts, while not full sourcers, are still children of Mal and Mil. While they can’t cast like she can, they can manipulate their bodies in a way that can be dangerous if encountered.

She hadn’t even thought to bring dusting with her.

She holds in her shudder as she stares at the foot tall creature, it’s mouth opened in a scream, revealing row upon row of sharp iron teeth. “Second, I don’t care who you are,” She steps up to him, their eyes practically level. “You do not speak to me like that.”

The stranger takes in her face in silence, his own eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. She watches as his eyes pause on the area right above the apples of her cheeks. He’s the first the back down. “My apologies.” The man scratches at his neck, the skin going red with what could be embarrassment. “The adrenaline got the best of me.” Yes, she’s sure it was just the adrenaline. Karma rolls her eyes, her arms crossing as she watches him squat down to examine the creature he had just shot.

He beckons her forward. “Come, look at this.” His fingers curl in to point at the wings of the creature that had just failed to attack her. She approaches, warily. “Look at its wings. Do you see those lines?” Karma nods as she stares at the small and nearly clear wings. Hundreds of little lines run through them. “Pixies store nutrients from their food in their wings. Look at how each of the vessels break off before they reach the tips.”

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Her eyes narrow as she appraises the little creature. It takes a moment of focus, but eventually she does see that each tiny little vein filled with red liquid halts before it reaches the edges of the wings. “What does that mean?” She asks, curious as to why it’s even necessary to point out.

The hunter sighs, using the flat end of his javelin to rest his chin on. “That means it was on the last of its stores. Pixies eat anything. Insects, snakes, small mammals… If it couldn’t find something to fill its stores, that means there’s nothing left for it to eat.” That can’t be possible. Karma has heard nothing but the buzzing of insects since she’s arrived. Hell, she was swatting them away moments before the pixie tried to attack her.

He shakes his head, pulling the weapon from the chest of the dead being. “There’s someone or something here… and it’s disturbing the natural way of things. If you listen closely, you can hear it.” Karma pauses, leaning into her sense of sound. Her eyes close, the sound of her breath fading away.

But whatever it is that he hears, she doesn’t. “Some insects buzz, but not like this.” She supposes she wouldn’t know the sound of insects. The capital has very little of them, and she’s very rarely in the countryside. Her eyes flutter back open, and Karma finds the stranger looking at her, his body language hinting at him going on the defense. “What exactly is a swanking Shaland woman like yourself doing so far east?”

Karma’s brows raise incredulously as the man pulls his javelin to his chest as if it were a sword. “Swanking? I’m wearing trousers soaked through with mud. What about this screams swank?” She’s been called many things in her life, but never has Karma been called out on her wealth. Especially not when she looks as poor as she does in this moment. Perhaps that was a byproduct of growing up around the wealthy.

She won’t even put thought into the fact that the man knows she’s from Shaland. Anyone with ears could likely pinpoint her accent. Her plans are riding on that information after all. “It’s never the clothes that make the person.” She supposes he’s right. Karma swats her braid over her shoulder, a small smirk growing. Who would look at her and think she was lowborn? From the fullness of her shape down to her posture. She’s the embodiment of a royal, even without the frilly clothes.

Her grin fades. “I’m a Palacer.” Her voice drops into a whisper, her shoulders straightening as she rolls down the band of her pants, exposing the insignia on its inner lining. “The king has sent me to deliver a message to the troops that were stationed in Onq.” Her eyes dart quickly over her own shoulder. “It was insisted that I travel the rest of the distance from Mahdengen on foot.”

His posture loosens just the tiniest bit. “How does that link to you being here in these forests at this very moment?” If the man hadn’t been able to see her eyes, she would have rolled them.

She throws her arms out, her foot squelching against the ground as she taps it. ”Well, I’m a royal guard. I’ve never had to navigate by map. It’s proving a more difficult task than I thought it would be.” Her lip sticks out in a pout, and the man before her can’t help but crack a smile. He shakes his head as his posture relaxes.

“What exactly is it that they teach you there, if navigation isn’t so important to the crown?”

Her head tilts. The man’s tone has completely flipped. He’s gone from defensive to teasing. She wonders if all men outside of the capital are this easy to manipulate. “Instead of poking fun at my training, why don’t you introduce yourself. Or shall I stick to calling you The Huntsman?” Karma figures a little harmless flirting will do her no harm. She might as well test out her moves before she gets to the man that she must actually work her charms on.

He squats again and begins to use his javelin as a shovel. “Mr Huntsman is fine,” He replies, his smile now hidden as he focuses on the task at hand.

Karma watches him, now slightly more interested than she had been earlier. Not only does he have great aim with his weapon, he’s knowledgeable about the lands, and stingy with information about himself. She decides then that she will use him as a guide. “Now what are you doing Mr. Huntsman?” She switches between putting her weight on her left and right legs.

“Gotta bury the thing. Wouldn’t be right to leave a child of Mal so exposed.” So, it’s alright to kill a creature of Mal’s creation, but it isn’t right to leave it out to decompose? Yes, that makes sense. The glint of something shiny on his wrist catches her eye. Upon further inspection, she sees that it is a small pendant attached to a leather band. Interesting indeed.

He takes his time digging until he’s found the hole’s size and depth suitable for the dead creature. Karma watches as he gently places the pixie’s body into the small grave. Her skin prickles at the thought of having to touch such an obscenely brutal creature. Once he’s finishes, he stands and gives Karma a salute. “Be careful out here.”

Then he tries to leave.

She can’t believe he tries to leave.

Who does he think he is? “Pardon!” Karma calls out, casting her eyes down to her dirty boots. “I really do hate to bother you, but this is a matter of national security. Ca-”

“Sure. I’ll take you as close to central Onq as I dare to go, so long as you don’t impede on my own duties.” If he hadn’t been staring at her, she would have grit her teeth. She hates that she has to ask for help, but what she hates even more is the fact that she must resort to acting this way. Some would say her fatal flaw is her pride.

And Karma would order those nosy bastards to lick the bottom of her boot had she heard them.

“My thanks, Mr Huntsman,” She bows at the neck and waits until his back is to her again to sneer. This is going to be quite the growing opportunity for her.