A palpable wave of relief washed over the soldiers as they hurried through the gates. Eirik cast his eye over his surroundings and felt the chill disappear from his body at last. He helped the stretcher-bearers bring in the wounded and set them down in an open barn adjacent to the now closed gates.

The town of Canthia wasn't much bigger than the port they had first arrived at and had been built in two concentric circles around a temple building. As Eirik walked the town roads, he was surprised to see faces peering at him around doorways and shuttered windows. Some of the buildings stood empty, and Eirik couldn't miss the signs of violence scattered throughout the settlement. Broken windows and splintered doors marred many of the shops and houses, and ominous dark streaks stained the walls here and there. A wooden building, once a shop of some kind, stood black and crumbling after being set on fire and left to burn out.

A glance over his shoulder revealed a number of dishevelled townspeople emerging from their homes, their movements cautious but their expressions hopeful. He carried on until he returned to the southern area near the gate and found Holgrim and Greenwood surrounded by a group of people chattering at them with great excitement. On closer inspection, Eirik noticed that they were mostly older people who had gathered. Several walked using sticks for support and one or two had heavily bandaged limbs. Mixed among the group were two or three children of less than five summers, their chubby faces smeared with tears and snot. Others who had been following Eirik joined the group, swelling its numbers but Eirik didn't need to count them to know that many people were missing from the town.

Eirik joined Ruefin at the well and refilled his canteen.

"Don't like this," Ruefin said, taking a rag and washing a layer of dust and blood flecks from his face and beard. "There should be more people in a place this size."

"I agree. Do you see how the only ones left are the elderly and the very young?" Eirik kept an eye on the crowd gathered around the officers, one hand lingering near the weapons on his belt.

"And a few who can barely walk, yeah, I saw that. Where's everyone else?"

"By the look of that conversation over there," Eirik gestured at the debate going on to their left, "I think Holgrim's going to tell us in a while."

At length, Holgrim left the group of townspeople and returned to his troops. They clustered around him for answers.

"First things first," he began, "these people are pleased to see us, so we can lock the gates and get ourselves comfortable. The barns," Holgrim pointed in the direction of the place the wounded were sheltered, "are at our disposal, so I want you all to dump your packs over there and sort out where you're sleeping tonight. Get yourselves cleaned up and fed, then take a rest for a couple of hours. Come to the temple building at sunset and Greenwood and I will brief you on the new information we've received. Dismissed."

A general rush to the barns ensued, and Eirik found himself a spot by an open window on the second floor. From this vantage point he had a view over two thirds of the town and could see the extent of the damage within. Dark patches showed where homes had been burnt to the foundations and piles of broken furniture and splintered wood showed where the remaining townspeople had tried to restore order to the chaos.

"This was some kind of raid," Eirik said to Ruefin who had dropped down beside him to chew on a chunk of bread. "Maybe the Mantea came here and attacked them during the night."

"Maybe," Ruefin replied. "Doesn't explain the missing people though. There aren't any fresh graves that I've seen and those natives don't seem the type to take prisoners."

"True. We'll have to see what Holgrim has to say later."

Sunset painted the town in peachy golden tones, in contrast to the atmosphere of gloom that permeated the air. Eirik and his comrades converged on the temple, murmuring amongst themselves. The ground floor of the circular building was built in stone and sported blackened patches here and there. The first floor had been crafted in wood and featured elaborate carvings that had escaped whatever burnt the stone below. On entering the building Eirik saw an upper gallery where the local people stood watching the soldiers filing in. Holgrim and Greenwood stood at the centre of the ground floor on a raised platform surrounded by wooden benches. Seeing the men enter, Greenwood waved them over and gestured to the seats.

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"Take a seat, friends. We have new information to share."

Once the soldiers were seated, Holgrim took a gulp from a bottle of what appeared to be wine and dumped it down on a bench.

"Right, here's where we stand. Some time ago, Canthia was assaulted by a force of what appeared to be mercenaries. Everyone who was fit and healthy was put in chains and hauled away. Those who attempted to fight back, well... you've seen them hanging along the road already. According to the residents there have been no follow-up attacks, presumably because they've taken everything of value to them. Nevertheless, I want a watch set up on the town walls around the clock. For the time being we're going to stay put while we assess the situation and decide what we're going to do about it."

Holgrim picked up his bottle and sat down in its place, gesturing to Greenwood as he did. The agent took a step forward, ran one hand through his dusty hair and glanced at a notebook in his other hand.

"I think this is a good time to share some of my own research with you. For the last eighteen months I've been pursuing a group of smugglers operating along the south coast of the Northern continent. I tracked their routes and, with the help of various contacts, I traced them to this island. I'd anticipated meeting someone here who would have further information but, as you can probably guess, he's either dead or taken."

Eirik watched Greenwood consulting his notes and picked up a hint of hesitancy in his demeanour as if he was deciding how much he should say. With a sigh and a shrug, the hand holding the notebook dropped to one side and Greenwood lifted his head to continue.

"It is my belief that the leader of the smugglers is a man called Lorcan Astralis. The Order of the Sacred Hand has known of him for the last couple of years, following reports from our allies on the Northern Continent. Our interest in him is due to his apparent use of abilities we don’t see back home in Solendura. Our information suggests that he is both dangerous and ruthless, very much not a man to be trifled with."

Holgrim's eyes snapped wide. "And you believe this man, this Lorcan Astralis, is here on this island with his people?"

"Yes, I do. I believe he's based up here in the north and I suspect he's taken one of the mines for his headquarters."

"Any idea which one? I heard there are many."

"No idea, sorry," Greenwood said, pausing to flip through his notes, "although I would imagine it'll be whichever one he's mining the gems from."

Holgrim nodded slowly. "And these abilities you spoke of, what of them? If we find him, what should we expect?"

"Fire," Greenwood replied, a half-smile crossing his face as if he didn't really believe what he was saying. "It's said that he can create fire from his hands."

Eirik grinned and nudged Ruefin who was chuckling under his breath. The rest of the soldiers were also trying to smother laughter. Holgrim shouted for silence, although he too was smiling. Greenwood didn't appear fazed by the disbelief of the soldiers.

"I know how ridiculous it sounds, believe me, but I do have eyewitness accounts from people I would normally believe. For that reason, I'm going to take the reports seriously and I urge you to do likewise."

Eirik glanced up at the local people in the gallery above as he heard whispering, then cleared his throat.

"So he came here with his bunch of heavies, kidnapped most of the people, then disappeared back into the forest. Why?"

"Good question," Greenwood answered, turning to face him. "The most likely reason would be for slave labour. Mining is hard work and I doubt he treats his people well. Canthia is probably the closest settlement to his base, so he came here."

"Have the Mantea been attacking Canthia as well? You said earlier that they'd become more aggressive lately, to the point where the trade caravans have had to stop."

"No, but I think that's due to the height of the wall. They don't have the siege weapons necessary to attack a walled settlement. We'll be safe enough here until we decide how we intend to proceed."

At that point, Holgrim rose from his seat. "From this point onward, the town gates will remain closed. No-one -" and at this point he looked at the assembly above, "and I mean no-one, is to set foot outside the walls without my permission. I need volunteers for the watch tonight."

Eirik raised his hand along with seven others, but Holgrim stared at him and shook his head.

"Not you, Wilder. I've got a job for you tomorrow and I want you rested and fresh." Holgrim chose six from the others, leaving Eirik both pleased and disappointed.

With the watch rota organised, Holgrim brought the meeting to a close. As he left, Eirik glanced up at the townspeople above and watched them clustering together, their faces now excited and hopeful. It appeared that the unexpected arrival of soldiers had made them feel as if they weren't forgotten. He walked back toward the improvised barracks, mildly intrigued by whatever Holgrim had in store for him tomorrow.

"This is starting to get interesting," Ruefin said from his bedroll, with what looked like a stale potato cake disappearing into his mouth.

"True. And now we know what our friend from the Order is doing here."

"Yeah, he's chasing a wizard! I don't believe a word of it. Everyone knows magic isn't real."

Eirik stared out of the window into the darkness as his hands performed the evening ritual of sharpening his axes. As he moved the whetstone over the bluish steel, an odd sensation passed across the back of his scalp. This time it didn't feel like an ominous warning of impending danger, but seemed more related to the weapons he held. A sense of safety, of protection came over him in gentle waves that ebbed and flowed with the movement of his hands. He smiled into the darkness, remembering his father placing the axes in his hands as he prepared to leave his hometown. Whatever tomorrow would bring, he would be ready for it.