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As I sat there, a thousand thoughts must've crossed my mind, creeping like rats through the cramped corridors of my head. What felt like hours could only have been a few minutes, my chest heaved, every breath freezing inside of me as ice in my lungs. The building against which I sat offered no support, as if it were trying to force me back up, to move on, to continue my journey. I looked around at the lights of lamps burning dimly in houses, torches blazed with life in a tavern nearby. The sounds of laughter and merriment rose subtly from the tavern... I envied them, how they could make merry and enjoy themselves so close to our border and on the brink of war. Something about it seemed so right, but I could have no part of it. My place in the world lay elsewhere, with my own kind. My eyes opened slowly, and then shut them, I tried to rest but something held me back. I felt something cold on my nose, on opening my eyes I discovered it was snow. "What are you doing down there, friend?" somebody asked, startling me. A grey wolf stood over me, staring down with compassionate eyes that seemed to sparkle and held out a paw to help me up.

"I can't get up..." I returned hopelessly. His expression was unchanging as he motioned for me to take his paw.

"Come now Lukas, there's always hope, even for the likes of you. Get up, make your own path, and deny fate its opportunity to gloat at its victory." he returned with a fathering tone. I never wondered how he knew my name or how he knew of my predicament, my mission, I didn't ask any questions, I only took hold of his paw and he helped me up. I was about to thank him when he disappeared, into thin air it would have seemed. This almost shocked me awake, though it was far more than shock that had jolted me from my trance of hopelessness and self-pity.

I looked up at the sky, stretching out a paw to catch some snow. It was cold to the touch, melting almost instantly as it contacted the padding on my paw. I'd hardly come far, I couldn't stop now. The tavern and town seemed a might bit livelier, this granted by my fresh awareness. I looked back to the road into this place, determining something. I'd hardly come far... How much then would it draw me back if I went back a little? When you've made no progress, how much can you actually lose?

I weighed up my options, carefully making my decision, my heart was ever uncertain but I deemed Otto to be a greater loss to me than my humanity. Some things could wait; my friends were not among such things. Or perhaps it was just that I knew I couldn't do this without help. I walked toward the entrance of the village, back the way I came. The guards didn't so much as stir at my passing, drunk or asleep, the wooden palisade walls which they guarded seemed livelier than them. I looked at the ground, snow had already begun layering itself on the soil, I would have to move fast to track Otto down.

Otto's paw prints were clear in the muddy soil, the impressions accentuated by the dark, moist earth. I moved quickly, taking light steps so as not to be noticed by either Otto or the bandits that had taken Sheila. The bandits were moving slowly, tracks from their horses showing they were between a walk and a meander. I pursued carefully, sticking to the shadows of great oaks, watching closely the environment around me. I could hear wolves howling, singing their forlorn songs to an absent moon. The snow began to fall more heavily and visibility was becoming weak, it wasn't long before I came to a point where the party had taken respite. My mind pondered why they would have stopped, and... Then it occurred to me, there were a few blood stains on the ground, this was without doubt where the bandits passed. My nose was suddenly filled with the over-powering reek of sex; this must be where they raped Sheila. I searched for a way to shield my nose from the fetid stench of that otter and his thugs, but I had no luck in finding such a shield. I had to find Otto, and together we'd track down Sheila. Assuming she was still alive at that point. I walked ever onward, shivering in the snowfall which was quickly mounting to a blizzard. I had to pick up pace, lest I lose their tracks and be forced to resort to less accurate measures of tracking.

Something wasn't right, the tracks I was following belonged to the bandits, and Otto's tracks followed their path but... Otto's tracks doubled up, as though he'd turned back. But He wouldn't have turned back, not without proper reason. I continued onward, hoping Otto had simply taken another route, knowing where the bandits were headed. There were now proper, clearer tracks in the snow; I was obviously close to the bandits if they'd passed this way with the blizzard bearing down on the forest. Still there was nothing from Otto...

The branches rustled in the darkness, there was a flash of black, white and brown and within a second I was on my back, staring up the blade that had skilfully found its way between my eyes and showed restraint before piercing my flesh. I could scarcely identify the figure, clothed in thick fur robes that concealed most of his facial features and body. "Who are you? Why are you follow- Lukas?..."

"Otto?" I said, I stunned and dismayed.

"Lukas it is you!" he called softly and emotionally, "I thought I'd lost you for good when you didn't come straight after me," he sheathed his sword and pulled me onto my paws and into him, hugging me tightly. I returned his embrace absently, did Otto just jump me? Did he just sneak up on me? "Err, sorry about that. It's just nice to know I'm not alone anymore." he said shyly, pushing himself away from me.

"No, it's fine. I think we both needed that anyway... At least, in some odd way. What news?" I asked, dusting off the snow and dirt that clung to my back and rump.

"Well first, I've found out where they're headed. Ten Kilometers East of Elder wood, explains why Sheila was reluctant to move in the direction of the town, they had a higher chance of catching her... She was right. And second, it's not just a small group of rogue bandits, this is damn near a full city of thugs, thieves, murderers... It's a criminal haven," Otto explained.

"You're sure?" I questioned. Otto looked down, wishing he wasn't certain of what he'd just said. "Well then, this'll be quite the task. What do we have to lose?" I returned. Otto's face brightened at my new-found willingness to help rescue our auburn furred friend.

"Let's do this," Otto said with a wolfish grin, we were dead men walking... And I liked it, if it ended well, I got my release eventually, and if not... It would be an honourable death, and still a release of sorts.

We moved no further than where we were, knowing where the bandit town was we could finally rest for the night, though we would have no fire, the risk was far too great. We would simply have to cheat death for the night. "How unfortunate that a "blanket" of snow isn't quite as warm as furs," I commented, we chuckled in unison, lowly. I had neither time nor energy to pitch a tent and so just lay some furs on the ground under cover of a disproportionately large oak, and then used the rest to cover myself.

I'd begun dozing when Otto spoke "Lukas, I'm glad you came back..." he shifted closer to me as we lay, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you, since you became a Nephil..." he said, leaving me hanging on to his words. I stirred, turning to face him, I felt my cheeks warm as our noses accidentally rubbed. I stared into the young Collie's eyes, as did he into my own. He inched closer to me until our bodies were separated only by our clothing. "This isn't the time for this, but I think this may be my last chance..." he continued. He raised a paw and brought it to my face, I took hold of it, keeping it where it was. "Lukas?" he asked, awaiting my consent.

"Otto you know I'm not like that," I replied at last.

"Oh... Of course, sorry I asked, I just..." he stuttered.

"If it makes you feel any better though, there's nobody I'd rather make this journey with. You're a good friend Otto, but I just don't like you that way." Otto gave a sigh and rolled back over, staying near to me for warmth in the cold of the surrounding snow.

I lay awake, too tired to sleep it seemed. Snow gathered in the branches of trees, piling up, painting the dark wood white with the crystallised water. I needed relief from the thoughts that still flooded my mind, relief that perhaps my journal could bring. I scrambled up onto my rump, leaning against the tree and scratched about in my leather pack, searching out my journal and necessary writing implements. Writing in the thick blackness of night proved more troublesome than I'd expected.

March 23rd, 906 of the second Era

It's been some time since my last journal entry, far too long in fact. The past fortnight has been a confusing and troubling experience, most of it spent in deafening silence. My transformation has addled my mind, and near broken my spirit, but Otto... He truly is exemplary as a friend, after all I've put him through, after I've treated him like -and I hesitate to use this analogy- an animal, he still believes in me. If he can still find it in him to believe in the monster that I am at present, then I can't give up on him. He wouldn't give up on me.

I have difficulty walking on account of the set of paws I lean on, but this complication will take care of itself, more pressing is the fact that I'm starting to envy the Nephilim. The first thing that Empire schools teach the young ones is that the Nephilim are a scar on this land, they are savage, they have no hearts or souls but here... While the otter we came across is every bit what the Empire described, such things can scarcely be said of any others I've come across. Perhaps the Nephilim aren't as bad as the Empire make them out to be. Or is that just the sound of my doubtfulness of ever returning to human society?

But now that it's mentioned, I've never actually seen myself as a Nephil. I haven't looked at my reflection or bothered to ask Otto about my appearance. Perhaps one of these is a good idea if I am to be like this for some time. Surely it will bring some small deal of encouragement.

I closed the leather bound book and returned every thing to their rightful places in my bag. I slipped cautiously, so as not to wake Otto, under the furs and closed my eyes, letting wakefulness ebb from me.

"No, keep your posture, keep your stance," Otto instructed as he banked to the side. I recomposed myself, dagger in one paw and sword in the other, returning to my starting position. "Watch me, think carefully and then react."

I eyed him intently, my muscles twitching and tensing in anticipation of his move. His tail snapped in one direction, I stepped, his body moved in another direction completely and he threw me to the ground with his broadsword at my throat and dagger at my stomach. "Distraction?" I questioned.

"Yet you acted on it anyway? Don't watch my body; watch my weapons- all of them." He helped me back up and we restarted the entire process. I constantly made the same mistake, I fell at the distraction. Otto had been teaching me what he knew about swordplay since early that morning, apparently I was quite the slow learner. I inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of a dead winter morning and focused, this time solely on the cold steel that occupied Otto's paws. "Again."

We stood, I was staring down his weapons, everything around us seemed to still as I focused. I watched. I waited. Otto took his time, unworried and unwavering as he stood. Then in a flash he thrust forward his dagger, striking at my stomach, I understood what he was doing now. I dodged to my right, raised my dagger to parry his sword attack and countered, hitting his upper leg with the flat of my blade. "Better?"

"Much, though your opponent won't repeat one move, he will kill you. You understand this already. I think that's enough for today, don't you?"

"Enough? Actually it was quite more than enough, I mean coming from somebody who isn't a 'born and bred fighter.'" I returned, Otto smiled and lowered his weapons. His smile was warm, though not particularly convincing. "And that?"

"We're done; we don't need to use these for now."

"I wasn't talking about the weapons, I was talking about that transparent smile you're wearing," I clarified. His gaze briefly shifted down to my hind paws, then back to me.

"It's nothing, I'm fine," he returned, again putting on his fake smile.

I chuckled and shook my head, "Whatever you say, let's move then, shall we?" he gave a nod and we were back on our way, though I could feel Otto's tension as we trudged ever onward to the "bandit city." Every so often it would cross my mind to ask him what was wrong, but each time it faded as I convinced myself he'd say nothing, flog me off with the same excuse of him being fine. The sun shone ever so dimly through the branches of dead trees, it offered no warmth to us, the tense and near-warring denizens of this land, but rather a bitter feeling of having something just out of reach. Light glared weakly from the thick layer snow on the ground and on the branches of oak, clouds gathered once more, convening and plotting our cold demise. I shrugged the cold off, cast aside the weak light stabbing at my eyes and shuffled on, the weight of my pack was light but became cumbersome and fatiguing as the miles wore on. I was hungry.

"Lukas, look," Otto was pointing at a small house among the trees, soft grey smoke rose from the chimney and there was an axe buried deeply into the stump of a tree nearby. Evidently the house was inhabited. Otto and I approached the shabby shanty with caution. If the place was at all occupied it sure didn't receive much attention, it more than likely housed an aged and retired huntsman and his wife, with no obvious signs as to what race they were. Otto stepped forward and knocked on the door, but it was unlocked and simply swung open as his fist contacted the rotting wood. "Do you smell that? It's familiar, like blood, but it seems old and... diluted, if I can use such a word."

"Perhaps it's an old hunt, you know how our own slaughterhouse smelled," I suggested. "We'll soon find out though," we stepped cautiously inside, paws on our weapons, ready to fight back at the slightest sign of trouble. "Hello?!" I called loudly to any supposed residents... No answer. "Hello?!" I called again, this time more loudly. Still nobody answered. We moved forward through a door that we assumed lead to the main room of the building. It wasn't long at all before we realised why there was no reply to either of my calls. Otto forced me out of his way and threw up against the wall. The room's stench was positively fetid, as though it were filled with week old corpses. "The Gods truly have abandoned us..." I whispered, the cause of the rank scent we'd picked up before entry was, as Otto suspected, blood. Though it was no animal, the former owners of this woodland cottage had been crucified. They hung, suspended side by side with daggers in their hands and feet, on the far wall of the room. Their stomachs were split from the lowest point upward to just under the ribs and their innards were practically falling out of them. They were of different races, the woman was human, and the man was Nephilim, they hung on opposite sides of the fire place and the smoke from the low burning fire caressed them both, their legs were charred, suggesting that the fire had blazed more furiously earlier. They were whipped and lashed and tortured, the Nephilim had well-beyond-obvious tear stains on the fur below his eyes. Beside them there was a message, written in blood on the wall- their blood. "The gods cannot forgive such sins as these two have committed, that being, we must purge their souls of the evil they have done through crucifixion," I read out loud. Their attackers weren't shy with the amount of blood they used, the message was barely legible with all the blood that ran down the wall.

"They were murdered and savaged because they loved each other?" Otto questioned in disgust.

"No, this is some bandit excuse to kill and loot. Though that may have had something to do with it..." I stammered out weakly. "Look, the house was raided, any coins or valuables they had are gone. The furniture was destroyed and used in the fire, there's hardly anything salvageable. Any religious sect would have had at least more decency and left them with a little more dignity, or at least leave their clothes on," I followed up. I shuffled forward and inspected the bodies, looking for any other wounds or injuries, the woman's skin was leathery and greyed and the man's fur was dry and sparse on the side the smoke was most plentiful. Both had strange runic symbols carved into them, particularly on their arms.

"You're right I think... Then this is only more reason for that otter, I think I heard somebody call him Dirk, and his men to be punished. What should we do? We can't leave them on the wall like that," Otto said angrily. He threw his heavier fur coat aside and set his weapons nearby.

"I think they deserve a proper burial, we can only afford to dig them shallow graves, otherwise we'll lose too much time. It's better than nothing." I hefted my pack off of my back and laid my weapons beside it, then started searching for a shovel or some tool to dig with. Otto worked on getting the couple down off the wall, dislodging the daggers first from the woman's ankles and wrists, following the same procedure with the man. First came the dagger from their ankles, then the wrists, allowing the bodies to slump over his shoulder before he set them down side by side on the floor.

I couldn't find a shovel, or anything suitable really. I resorted to using a reasonably flat rock to scrape a shallow hole from the ground; Otto joined me once he'd prepared the bodies for burial. We made little to no conversation in respect... Or perhaps it was more anger that kept us silent, either way we worked through most of the afternoon on the grave. We dug a singular grave for the both of them, thinking it to be somewhat appropriate for the two lovers to be buried together. I even managed to find some lavender in the house, for the grave. Otto and I carried the bodies and lay them side by side in the pit, we each prayed over them and piled the soil on top of them, with a few rocks forming a mound above the grave, and then I laid the lavender on the stones. Otto had decided to raze the house to the ground, and we watched as the building blazed brightly, burning into the night. We made camp as far off as we could get, the glow was certain to draw attention and it was more than likely to be that of bandits or soldiers. "How do you think Sheila's doing?" Otto asked at last, poking at the camp fire we struggled so much to start, with a stick.

I held out my paws to the fire, watching the back of them and trying to ascertain my sub-species of Nephilim. "I've no idea, though if that couple we buried was any indication..." I started before Otto cut me off.

"Don't say it, please. Just please don't say it."

"Sorry, it was just so harsh. By the way, you're so obvious, unless of course you're not trying to be discrete about it."

"Obvious? About what?"

"You know, about your attraction to Sheila," I teased with a thin smile.

"O-oh! No, it's not like that. I mean I worry for her, but I'm not attracted to her. I mean yes I am, but not r-romantically. I mean... Just drop it."

Bingo. Now he couldn't back out of the question. "Silly dog, you know you can't hide it, not anymore," I pressed.

"No, I'm not attracted to her, not like that. It's somebody else, okay?" he defended heavily. He shifted around the fire uneasily.

"Somebody else? Who else do we know? Otto... It's not me is it?!" I half yelled.

"No! Okay if you really want to know, I was in... With... M..." his voice trailed off, "Marissa." My eyes grew wide, and I almost keeled over with laughter. I threw my legs forward and rolled backward, clutching my stomach as the laughter continued. "Be careful!" Otto yelled, pushing my legs away from the fire before I could accidentally singe my fur.

"No, seriously, Marissa?" I wiped a tear from my eye as my guffaw subsided. "Marissa the alchemist, from Richard's folly?"

"Yes Marissa, what's wrong with her?" he asked defensively, an offended look crawled onto his face.

"Never mind my friend; it's just that these are dangerous times. And so I'll assume that's where you learned to defend yourself? Her cousin taught you?"

"Yes, he was a good teacher. Of course I wasn't always there for the lessons, but I managed to learn some things from both Marissa and Jason." he explained. Snow began falling lightly, this time it was more likely to be a continuous snowfall as it had happened every year; a blizzard, a day or more of calm weather and then a snowfall that lasted nearly the rest of the winter.

"Ah, so you know something of alchemy as well then?" I questioned. He offered a warm smile, sincere this time.

"A little, mostly about what plants won't kill you within five minutes and which are most likely to. But I know the recipes of a few salves and medicines that can help your body heal by its self. No fancy poisons or transformation potions." He chuckled, he seemed proud of what he knew. Funny, he never once struck me as being particularly scholarly in all the years I'd known him.

"Alright, and just which plant should I stay away from no matter what?"

"Well you'd want to avoid the siren's gift. It's a shrub that only ever grows on the tallest of mountains, it has a flower that is rose like in appearance with deep blue to purple tinge and a fruit that smells as sweet as honey."

"What's so bad about that?"

Otto gave another chuckle, "the roses and sweet smelling fruit lure in travellers and animals alike, and when they get close they can't get away, even if they realise the bush isn't what it appeared to be. Tendril like roots entangle the victim's legs, the shrub then forces out thorns containing an extremely potent neurotoxin that paralyses the victim. The problem is that the victim is always conscious and can feel the pain but can't do anything to get free. The shrub pulls the poor creature into it and vines began wrapping themselves around the victim, tightening first around the chest, releasing when the victim loses consciousness and then the plant deploys a slow acting acid to dissolve the victim and finally absorbs the resulting liquid through the roots."

I was horrified by what Otto had just said, a carnivorous plant? My eyes must've reminded Otto faintly of dinner plates as we sat there by the fire. "S-siren's gift you said? Deep blue to purple? I'll avoid that, thank you very much."

"That's what I thought. Though it has many useful properties, the neurotoxin can be used in paralysing poisons. The acid, believe it or not, can be used in a rejuvenating salve, when mixed with certain basic substances, its acidic properties are neutralised and the acid, now neutralised, becomes potent for healing wounds. There are numerous other uses for other parts of the siren's gift, though as I mentioned, such ingredients are hard to come by and I don't know how to extract or use them myself. But I think maybe someday I'll be able to get my paws on a book on alchemy and learn more, or see an alchemist to teach me again. Maybe I'll even try my luck at magic." Otto said hopefully, for a moment forgetting entirely about everything else. I simply smiled at him. I placed some more wood on the fire and just sat staring into the hypnotising flicker of flame. For the first time on this journey I felt safe and happy, I had some control again. Tomorrow we could move on to the bandit city. Tomorrow we would see if Sheila was alright. I was marching straight in the path of death and I wasn't afraid. For tonight, I could actually rest easily.