“I am the Lone Wolf.”

The infamous assassin.

The killer, the murderer, the cold stealer of lives.

The admission feels better out in the open, somehow.

I watch as Daniel’s face drains of color and his eyes widen. He stumbles away from me and collapses on the bed as his knees buckle. He sits there, staring at me in shock. I move to sit beside him and he flinches away. I sigh, resting my empty hands on my knees, splaying my fingers.

“The assassin.” His voice is soft with shock.

“Yes.” I reply quietly, sadly, my eyes on my hands. “Now you know. Now you know what I am, and now you know that, no matter what you said before, you cannot help but condemn me for what I’ve done.”

I hate my deceptions. I hate the fear Daniel now holds for me. I hate the blood and the faces that haunt me. I stare at my hands, at the blood staining my flesh but not my pants. I stare at it and I own it. I owe Daniel this much.

Fal’s alarm pulses through our bond, and I send back what gentle reassurance I can.

My heart aches with the pain of my emotions, and I lift a hand to massage my chest. Daniel flinches again, and I let out a bitter chuckle.

“You did ask.” I tell him.

“I know.” He replies finally. His voice is hoarse. He clears his throat. “I... just suppose I did not expect… that answer.”

Dancing around the subject now, are we?

I look up and meet his wide, sea-blue gaze. Give him a sad, bitter smile.

“I do not expect forgiveness.” I tell him, and stand to leave the room. But this time Daniel doesn’t flinch away, and I have taken no more than a step toward the door than he catches my hand and holds me fast.

“Ava.” He says, and I look at him.

His fear is gone, and there is still no condemnation in his eyes.

There is kindness, and there is—

“I forgive you, Ava.” He says.

Time seems to freeze. I can’t breathe.

I can only stare at him, wide-eyed, held in place by… something.

Something inside me threatens to break as his words echo in my head.

I forgive you, Ava.

That something is cracking, it’s close to shattering, I cannot hold it together. The door in my mind, the door that only Daniel seems to be able to unlock, cracks open.

I forgive you, Ava.

I can’t breathe. I can't breathe.

I reach up and claw at his fingers, jerk my hand from his grasp. Flee to the door.

But before I can wrench open the door and flee down the hallway, he catches me. That fools-cursed paladin wraps his arms around my waist and holds me fast.

His touch jolts my lungs back into action, and I gasp for air. Struggle against him. I need to get away from him, from this pain, from the voices screaming for vengeance in my mind I cannot flee from them

Daniel doesn’t let go, even though I give him plenty of reason to. When he doesn’t release me, I fight harder, twisting and bucking against him. Only by virtue of these feelings rising up in me overwhelming at his touch, do I refrain from hurting him seriously.

He doesn’t let go.

Panic squeezes my chest, my lungs. I turn in his arms and shove at him, pounding at his chest. Push at his arms, but to no avail. He only holds me tighter, even as he grunts and winces in pain. He makes no move to avoid my fists.

Dimly, I feel Fal nudging at me through our bond, his fear and worry flaring as he feels my panic. I slam him away, even as he gathers his manna.

Panic takes me totally, my mind narrowing to the point where my only thought is to escape this, escape Daniel, he cannot do this I cannot feel this way I do not deserve forgiveness I cannot escape him I have no right this will break me the voices scream for vengeance the blood rises in my sight I cannot shut the door this thing inside me cannot take the strain it will shatter if this goes on much longer--

“Ava.” Daniel says.

“Let me go!” I gasp.

“Calm down, Ava.” His low voice rumbles calmly in his chest as he crushes me firmly against him. “Calm down.”

I try to wiggle free, but he merely shifts his grip on me, pinning my arms, pinning my torso against his.

“Let me go, Daniel!” I demand, voice shrill with the force of my panic. His silence is his denial, and he just stands there, holding me against him. I stop struggling, accepting the fact that he’s not going to let go. Hold myself stiffly in his arms. His shirt is rough against my cheek.

His heartbeat is strong and steady and calming to me, and, almost against my will, I find myself relaxing. My breath stops coming in gasps, my wildly pounding heart settles, and my tense muscles ease.

After a minute, Daniel’s hand moves on my back; he rubs in gentle circles, and I relax farther.

Fal’s manna swirls and seethes with wild indecision, and I send him reassurance. He too relaxes, sending me impatient inquisitiveness.

“I forgive you, Ava.” Daniel whispers down at me. I tense once more, but he doesn’t cease holding me or rubbing my back.

“Daniel, I don’t deserve that. From anyone. Especially not from you.” I tell him brokenly.

“That doesn’t matter.” He replies softly.

“How can it not?”

“Because forgiveness does not depend on whether or not a person deserves it.” He says, tipping my chin up with one hand so our eyes meet. He chuckles slightly. “If it did, none of us would be forgiven. We would all be doomed to the Hells.”

I close my eyes so that I do not have to look at him. Swallow hard as a tear escapes to slide down my cheek. Daniel’s hand comes up to cup my cheek and his thumb wipes away that tear. I swallow again, suddenly aware of how close together our faces are, of how good his arms around me feel.

I go to speak, hesitate, and Daniel beats me to it.

“Were you sent to assassinate us, Ava?” He asks softly. I open my eyes. Shake my head.

“No. I— this was supposed to be a recon mission. I was supposed to get close to you, and thwart your plans if I could.”

“And whatever happened to doing that?”

I give a smile twisted by sorrow as I realize I count him as a friend. A true friend. One I now know I cannot harm.

“I got a little too close.” I say. He chuckles lightly and his hold on me eases. I step back carefully, but his arms tighten once more.

“Daniel…” I say warningly.

“Just one more question.” He says lightly.

I tense.

“Was it D’Adrian who sent you?” He asks.

I hesitate. Then relent.

“Yes.”

“I see.” Is all the reply he gives. I look down, unable to meet his gaze any longer. He gently releases me and takes a step away. Laughs slightly, resting his hand on my shoulder. “For the record, Ava, I’m glad you haven’t killed us.”

I look up and meet his eyes. Manage a smile, just for him. “Me too.”

His smile fades, and he asks, “Avalon, can I trust you?”

I swallow again. “I certainly hope so, Daniel.”

“Is there anything else about you that I need to know of?”

Yes.

“No.” I answer, my inner defenses mostly back in place. The deception twists my stomach into sourness. I hate it. Daniel’s eyes search my face for a moment, his expression serious, as he looks for my deceptions. I withstand his scrutiny, unflinching. After a moment, he nods, seemingly satisfied.

I have no idea how much of me he just saw. That scares me.

The paladin squeezes my shoulder, releases me, and steps past me to the door. He quietly opens it and disappears into the hallway. I walk slowly to the window and resume staring through the grimy glass.

A minute later I hear Antony’s voice. “Daniel! Is… is Ava alright?”

Daniel sighs. “You know that answer to that, Antony.” There’s a slight pause, then Daniel continues. “She will be fine, I think. If she can just see…” His voice fades as he moves farther down the hallway. I can’t hear the last of what he says.

What in the world does Daniel think I need to see? I can see perfectly fine, thank you!

It’s a while before I join Daniel and the rest in the taproom. I slide into a chair at their table after ordering a meal at the bar. Eliana flinches away from me. Antony glances up at me and back down at his food. Raeldon is his usual stoic self, not even acknowledging me, just continuing to eat.

Daniel’s told them, then.

The paladin himself gives me a warm smile.

“He should have shown you the door.” Raeldon pointedly remarks at me. Daniel’s smile drops and he glares at the tiefling.

“Yeah, well, he seems to want me around, so deal with it.” I shoot back dryly. Eliana and Antony smirk. Daniel shakes his head, hiding a smile.

“Raeldon,” he says, “let her alone.”

Eliana leans toward me as my meal arrives. “Is it true?” She asks.

I dig into my beef and gravy, flicking a glance up at her. “Depending on what Daniel told you, probably.” I answer noncommittally. Antony pushes aside his empty plate and crosses his arms over his chest.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I can’t believe thee didn’t tell us.”

I quirk an eyebrow at him. “Really. What, did you expect it to be something I would automatically tell potential targets?” Antony and Eliana both flinch. Daniel sighs. I shake my head at the elf’s naivety.

“I was supposed to get close to you all. My goal was to gain your trust, alright? Obviously, I’ve just lost that, but at least now you know, and now you can do whatever you have to, to guard against me.”

Antony opens his mouth to speak, but he’s forestalled by a shadowy silhouette in the doorway of the tavern entrance. We all look up.

A tall elf, as blond as Antony, steps into the tavern. The newcomer is dressed in road-worn clothing that looks like it belongs to a dockworker. His face is as stoic as Raeldon’s, and his eyes are as grey as flint as he sweeps his stony gaze over the tavern. He’s searching for something.

“One of yours?” Daniel asks Antony, gesturing with his head at the newcomer. Antony’s face is tight as he stares at the grey-eyed elf.

“Yes.” He answers curtly. Stands and makes his way to the tall elf, and they speak for a moment in low tones. They’re too quiet for me to hear. The grey-eyed elf hands Antony a sealed message cylinder, then swiftly departs the tavern.

Antony walks slowly back to us, uncapping the cylinder. He tugs out the scroll inside, reads it, and drops into his chair. His face is pale, his eyes unfocused.

“What is it?” Asks Daniel.

“My... my home…” Antony says in a dazed tone. “Tyrhyld… it’s been attacked. By… pirates.”

Eliana covers her mouth with one hand. Raeldon’s eyes close briefly as he comprehends the news.

“I’m sorry, my boy.” He says kindly, sorrowfully.

“How many dead?” Daniel queries, ever practical.

“Too— too many.” Antony chokes out. I push back my chair with a loud scrape, and everyone looks at me.

“When do we leave?” I ask. Antony smiles slightly.

“At dawn.” Daniel says. “Rest well tonight. We’ll be riding hard.”

And so we do, galloping out of Ciliren with the sun on our horses’ left flanks. We’re heading due south, to the sea.

Normally it would a month’s hard ride to Tyrhyld, but Daniel has a plan that’ll cut our journey in half. Ride hard for five days, stopping in Azmal for a night, as our road takes us straight through that wretched city and it would cost us precious time to bypass it. From Azmal, ride even harder for a day and a half until we reach the Abanogan River, and then take a ship down the river to the sea. That passage will take about five days. It’s another half day down the coast to Tyrhyld. And when we reach Antony’s city…

Well, I hope Daniel will know what to do. I know no details of the attack. Antony is withdrawn, more than usual, and monotonic. The only one he speaks to is Daniel, and I see them sometimes conversing in low tones when we rest.

These five days on the road are the hardest I’ve ever spent. I’m used to using my marble to transport places, and Daniel makes us ride at a grueling, forced-march pace, all day and whenever the moon gives us light to see by. We sleep in snatches. I’m not sure Antony sleeps at all. We eat in the saddle. We doze in the saddle too, more often than not. When the horses flag, Daniel pushes more manna into them, we rest for five or ten minutes, and then it's back on the road for us.

It’s a weary five that ride into Azmal during the late hours of the afternoon. We’re caked in the grime of the road, in sweat and in dust. All of us but Daniel droop in our saddles, bone-weary. Our horses amble through the streets as we search for a half-reputable inn. The city is just as grimy and violent as I remember it. Nothing seems to have changed from Amyry’s reign. In fact, it seems to have gotten worse, if that were possible. Patrols of armed and armored guards wander the streets, giving everyone suspicious glances. The townsfolk cower away from them.

I startle out of a half-doze, drawing my mage blade, as a slight human woman in a threadbare dress runs out into the street and grasps the reins of Daniel’s horse. The horse startles, half rearing, but Daniel settles the animal with a few words, then fixes the woman with a stern gaze.

“What is the meaning of this?” He asks, his voice harsh with little-used, dust-caked vocal cords. The woman just stands there, holding the wretched horse’s bridle, and now we are all stopped in the mucky street.

“Please, sir.” She pleads quietly, looking up and down the street. “Ye airn’t safe here, paladin. There be a price on yer heads, and mos’ o’ the city’ll turn agains’ ye if they find ye. There be a few here who aire gra’eful fer what ye did, but mos’…” She looks furtively up and down the mostly empty street again, then gives a tug at the bridle. “I can give ye a safe place to res’, sir, ye an’ yers. Come with me.”

Daniel regards her for a moment, then nods and clucks to his horse, touching his heels to the animal’s flanks. The woman leads his horse across the street and through a tall garden gate. The rest of us follow suit. We dismount in a sparse, stone courtyard, bare of nearly all vegetation. The walls of the courtyard are tall, effectively hiding us from the rest of the city. The gate is just as tall. A small stone house is attached to the courtyard. This place looks to have once been a wealthier part of the city. Not so any longer.

The woman shuts the garden gate firmly behind us and locks it.

“Elisile?” A man’s voice calls from the house, and a tall, thin, male tiefling steps out of the house. His pupilless, golden eyes look with puzzlement at us, before turning his gaze to the woman, Elisile. “What’s going on, Elisile?”

“Look a’ them, Zephos.” Elisile cajoles him. He does, and his eyes widen.

“They need shelter and res’” Elisile tells Zephos, as the tiefling bows clumsily to us.

“Forgive me, m’lords and ladies.” He says. “I didn’ realize who ye were. My wife was righ’ to bring ye all here. Ye’ll be safe here as long as ye stay, m’lord paladin.”

“First of all,” Daniel says, stepping forward, “there will be no ‘m’lord’s or m’lady's. If you want to address me, just call me simply ‘Daniel’. And likewise, these are Antony, Eliana, Avalon, and Raeldon.” He gestures to each of us in our turn. “And second of all, what do you mean when you say that we aren’t safe here? Amyry is dead. How can there still be a price on our heads?”

Zephos and Elisile exchange uneasy glances. Then the tiefling gives his wife a decisive nod. He turns to us.

“Go into the house; my wife will tell ye everything.” He says. “Le’ me tend yer horses.”

Daniel gives him a long, searching look before handing over his horse’s reins. Zephos sets to unsaddling our mounts and rubbing them down, talking softly to the beasts all the while. Daniel follows Elisile into the house, and his friends trail him. I step up beside him and whisper,

“How do you know you can trust them, Daniel? You don’t exactly have a perfect record for picking the safest of situations to be in.”

He chuckles quietly at my tone, and replies, his lips close to my ear, “You forget, I have the Sight. These people are sincere; they mean us no harm.”

I drop back slightly, mulling over his words. What he says is true, about his Sight. Well, if Daniel trusts Zephos and Elisile, then I guess I’ll trust the paladin.

We step into a well-lit, surprisingly clean, one-room home. Late sunlight streams through two windows in the street-facing wall, a small table with four chairs stands by a small kitchen area, and two bunkbeds are on the far side of the room.

Four beds? Who else is supposed to be here?

Elisile catches my questioning glance, and smiles kindly.

“There aire still some o’ Elhim’s people in Azmal.” She says, and Daniel’s eyebrows shoot up. He breaks out in great grin.

“I knew you were vor Elhim!” He nearly shouts.

Elisile smiles wider, but motions for quiet.

“Hush, paladin. Ye may be vor Elhim, and have the Sigh’ to boo’, but it should still be not spoken of in public. This be a dangerous city for Elhim’s people.”

Daniel’s face grows concerned and sorrowed. “I know… Where are the rest of you, then?”

Elisile saddens. “Gone. Fled the city while they could, or imprisoned and killed.”

“By whom?” Daniel questions. Elisile sighs, gesturing for us to seat ourselves. Daniel seats Elisile, Eliana, and myself at the table before taking a seat himself with us. Antony and Raeldon lean against the wall, crossing their arms, and listening intently to the woman.

“By a pale tiefling; he goes by the name o’ Azaes and claims to be Amyry’s foster brother. He marched into the city nigh on a week and a half ago now, and took over in Amyry’s place.”

Daniel goes deadly serious. “This is dire news indeed. And not what I hoped to find when I came back here.”

Elisile nods sadly. “Aye. Azaes marched in, slaughtered the newly appointed mayor and his family, and se’ himsel’ up as king. He put out a bounty on yer heads, demanding revenge for Amyry’s death. Mos’ the city hates you for how you abandoned them, and would turn you in to him in a heartbeat. Only a few o’ us aire sympathetic to ye, and even fewer still would dare to help ye.”

“Well, I thank you and Zephos for belonging to those few.” Daniel says, his face softening as he looks at Elisile. “It was not my intention to abandon the city, it simply wasn’t my place to stay and set up a new government. That task belonged to the citizens. Besides, it was not any of us here who killed Amyry.”

“Then who did?” Asks Elisile. Daniel looks to me, but I supply no answer for him. Daniel turns back to Elisile and shrugs. She nods with a troubled look. Then she rises from her seat, steps to the little kitchen, and begins to assemble a small meal. It looks like supplies are a bit sparse, but the woman spares no effort to give us substance.

Zephos steps inside, smelling of horse. He seats himself on the edge of one bottom bunkbed. Steeples his fingers and regards us with his eerie, golden eyes.

I thought Raeldon’s red eyes were disconcerting, but gold is an even weirder color.

“Elisile told ye, then?” He states it like it’s not a question. Daniel nods.

“I thank you very much for the hospitality you and your wife have shown us.”

Zephos inclines his head to us, smiling. “We couldn’ turn ye away, ye being vor Elhim and all.”

“What are your plans?” Daniel asks intuitively. Zephos sighs and stares into space over our heads. Elisile watches her husband intently.

“We… were going to follow the res’ o’ those who fled.” The tiefling says finally. Daniel nods like he was expecting this answer.

“Then we will help you all we can.”

We will?

“I would not have you in danger for our sakes.” The paladin continues. “Take two of our horses. There are ample supplies in our saddlebags. Take those as well. They will take you far from here.”

Zephos is shaking his head even before Daniel is finished speaking.

“The horses we canna except.” The golden-eyed tiefling says. “We’ll take the supplies, but no more, and thank ye for your kindness, Daniel. Ye can stay here for as long as ye need to. This is one o’ the las’ safe houses in Azmal.”

The two men exchange smiles, recognizing a brotherhood between them.

“Very well. Thank you.” Daniel says. “When will you go?”

Zephos looks to his wife, and she gives him a smile and nod. The tiefling gazes at us.

“We’ll share one las’ meal with ye, then leave the city with the sun.”

And that is what happens. A pang of sorrow strikes me at the couple’s leave of us. They were kind, and I have had so little kindness in my life. I wish them a safe journey. They head northward, laden with the supplies Daniel gave them, the setting sun shining like a blessing upon them. As I watch, Zephos leans down and plants a kiss on Elisile’s lips. Daniel’s face pops into my mind, and I immediately shove it away as my cheeks grow warm. I turn away and return my attention to my companions.

Daniel lays his bedroll and stretches out on the floor, crossing his arms and staring thoughtfully into space.

“I think we should go check out this Azaes.” He says at last.

“WHAT?!” Antony and Eliana stare at him incredulously. Only Raeldon and I do not react.

A smirk curves my lips. I had known this was coming. This is how Daniel thinks. Brilliant and foolish all at once.

Raeldon merely continues sharpening the blade he’s been grinding at for the last twenty minutes.

“When?” I ask.

“Tonight.” Daniel says.

Eliana gapes at me. “You cannot seriously side with him!”

My smirk reveals teeth. “You know I can’t stop him, Eliana. And, truth be told, I’d rather like to know my enemy as well.”

“Chances are, he already knows we’re here.” Raeldon gives his blade one last swipe with the whetstone, then sheathes it. He looks up. “I think it is an excellent idea. Just, be wary for traps.”

“I always am.” Daniel replies. Antony snorts in amused disbelief.

As the night grows darker, we cleanse ourselves of the grime of the road, sharpen weapons, and darken our blades with smoke. Tonight’s is a stealth mission. While Daniel, Raeldon, and Eliana scope out wherever this Azaes is hiding himself, Antony and I will take to the shadows, try to find our target, and take our measure of the man himself.

The city is still and silent as we venture out into the streets. Skirting numerous patrols of guards, we soon find the only place in the city where Azaes could be.

Amyry’s castle is still in ruins, although it looks as if repairs have begun. But the city’s prison— a two-story building sprawling the length of a city block— is teeming with guards. At least inside. We see at least two patrols enter, one dragging a prisoner with them. A few soldiers patrol around the iron-and-stone building, with another two guarding the iron front door.

Daniel, Eliana, and Raeldon station themselves in the shadows of an alleyway near the prison, with a clear view of the building. Antony and I sneak in a little closer.

The first inkling I have that this is a trap is when everything is suddenly quiet and still.

Then suddenly soldiers pour into the alleyway Antony and I are in, driving us back to the open street in front of the prison. They’ve brought lanterns, and the harsh light is nigh on blinding after the black gloom of the alley. The clash of swords fills my ears, and we are hard put to defend ourselves. I’m fighting by pure instinct. Somewhere in my mind I dimly realize we cannot afford to be pushed back into the open streets. I execute a flurry of blows, opening a space around myself.

Then I sheathe my mage blade and leap at the wall of the alley, my fingertips catching the cracks between the stones. Pull myself up and onto the roof two stories above the street. I lay there for a moment, panting. Look over the lip of the roof. Bile rises in my throat as I watch soldiers driving Antony, and Daniel, Raeldon, and Eliana too, out into the street in front of the prison. My comrades fight back to back, desperate, and I make no move to help them as they are surrounded by nearly a hundred soldiers.

Everything in me screams for me to aid my friends, but I hold myself back even as I hate myself for it. Curse myself for all kinds of idiot and coward. Even though I know that I would be no help out there. We would all be captured or killed, and there would be no aid for us.

I climb down on the other side of whatever building I am atop of. But I go no further than the alleyway.

I watch as a pale tiefling enters the fray. He wields a massive, silvery-violet mage blade, and swiftly cuts down Raeldon.

Azaes.

The pale tiefling sends the sage sprawling in the street, bloody and motionless. A dark force swirls around Azaes, and I cannot help but wonder, what god does he worship, and does he have his god’s help?

Whatever the case, he quickly overwhelms the rest of my companions, and they are beaten to their knees and bound. Azaes stalks around them, triumphant. I can see his smirk from here. He stops in front of Daniel, and they speak for a moment.

Azeas’ face contorts in fury, and he strikes Danial, openhanded, across the paladin’s face. Daniel is thrown onto the cobblestones by the force of the blow, and his head strikes the ground. He goes limp, and I watch with growing ire and shame.

Azaes says something more, and Antony and Eliana are hoisted to their feet. Two soldiers pick up Daniel, and my companions are dragged into the prison.

Except for Raeldon, who the pale tiefling nudges with his boot and then turns and disappears inside the prison with all of his guards.

Leaving the sage motionless in the street.