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Camden

It was amazing how quickly the meaning of time changed. One week in the comforts of Rainhaven seemed like far too short a time. And now a week later, that same span of days seemed like far too long to be spent on the road.

I could see the world outside our shelter growing steadily brighter as time slipped past. Dawn was nearly upon us. Another night passed with no sleep.

The large snow leopard nuzzled up tight to me beneath the thick elvish blanket. Her rhythmic purring brought a shred of comfort, despite my hastened heart-rate.

The cold bit harshly at my face when I extracted it from the warmth of the blanket, and I quickly retreated to its depths.

Aklys slithered up beside me even tighter, the low purr rumbling against my small form.

I gazed down at the Naettura, her eyes closed, and the rhythm of her breath slow and steady, lost in sleep.

She had rallied elves and gnolls to come after me. Traveled far, laying waste to countless slavers. The city of Manir itself was left in chaos in the wake of their assault, all to save me.

I clenched my eyes against the memories of darkness and cold stone. The horrible dungeons of Manir, and the terrible things. The thing's I did.

No. Not here. I couldn't think of such things. For Aklys' sake. Her mission was too important.

Even with the jagged ground as my bed and the cold of the Frozen Wastes being held at bay by a simple hide shelter, I was comfortable. More so than I had been in a long time.

The caribou-skinned tent was a parting gift from the elves, as was everything else we currently carried with us. It was a simple tent, though somehow managed to maintain much of the elegant décor of the elves in its spiral motifs and knotwork animal stitching.

Now, it served as a bulwark against the outside world. Within it's confines, with Aklys by my side, the north winds seemed less fierce, the snows less cold. And I was fine with that, even if I would find little true rest.

The purring in my face sped up some, and I was shocked by a sudden warm tongue lapping at my cheek.

“Good Morning, M'lady" I smiled wearily, opening my eyes.

You didn't sleep again. Her words stated sadly in my mind.

“I'm okay. Tough to sleep when you're not certain it's the wind or winter wolves howling across the wastes." I smiled reassuringly.

She didn't seem convinced.

Manir? She asked

I gazed into her large blue eyes. With a deep sigh, I nodded.

“It was so hard to tell reality from illusion. Their words crawled into my head. Lies and truths blended together. I couldn't remember who I was, or what I valued. It was as if Camden O'Connor ceased to exist."

The large cat rubbed her face affectionately against mine.

This is real. You are safe.

I embraced Aklys with all the strength of my Halfling arms. Tears swelled in my eyes.

How could I possibly explain to her? It wasn't a lack of security that kept me up at night. Not really. Perhaps that was a part of it, but there was something much more sinister that haunted my thoughts.

How many children did I father? How many bastards and half breeds existed now, because of me?

Furthermore, I almost killed her. I wanted to kill her. There were times that I could still feel his voice in my head even now.

You're awful at shielding your thoughts when you're upset.

“I've never felt the need to shield them from you, before…" I muttered.

I don't mean to pry. I understand that you wish privacy. It's difficult, however, when you're projecting your thoughts as powerfully as you are.

“I'm sorry." I apologized.

I'm the one intruding on your thoughts, and you're the one who's sorry. The cat gave a strange, chirp-like chuckle, drawing a wet lick across my face again.

“Hey!" I complained, feeling the heat quickly dissipate in the cool air.

You should have remained in Rainhaven, Camden. Rested for a few weeks. You've been through so much.

“And miss the great adventure across the Frozen Wastes? How many halflings you suppose make this journey?" I joked, trying to sound lighthearted. Aklys didn't sound amused.

You are truly remarkable, Camden. In your short life, you have experienced more hardship than some of the longest lived elves. Merely weeks after your release from captivity, you demand to accompany me on a dangerous journey into the wild north, which may yet prove fruitless. And you do so with humor. Truly remarkable.

“I just found you again. I'm not going to lose you now." I admitted, no hint of humor in my voice this time.

The cat pushed her face forward suddenly, parting her lips to plant a giant, frighteningly fangy kiss on my face.

I kissed back, reveling in the warmth of her fur and the feeling of her tongue against mine.

Finally, she broke the kiss, her blue eyes holding mine with that look of pure seduction.

My heart began to race suddenly. I fell back immediately to the dungeons of Manir. I exhaled a quivering breath.

I long for your touch. This is not the dungeons of Manir. I love you, Camden.

“I-I'm sorry, Aklys. Truly, I am. I missed you. Desperately, I wanted nothing more than to crawl beside you, to hold you as I hold you now. To love you with every corner of my heart." I inhaled deeply.

“I'm not sure I can. Not yet."

Her blue eyes looked so full of sorrow. My heart ached, knowing she longed for me just as I had her.

I understand. I will not press it. Know that I am here for you.

I buried my face into her scruff to muffle the tears. It seemed there was once a time without tears. A short time when I was truly happy. Those days so long ago, wandering the north with Aklys and Ciara.

Life had been simple then.

Araed Kappis

Drawing my sword, I rushed forward, stepping between the large humanoid lion and the much smaller bat creature. The lion had been eyeing the bat for the last hour, and finally lunged out of nowhere, diving for the frightened creature.

Normally, the bat would have been able to escape by taking to the air, but Captain Illska had ordered all creatures capable of flight have their wings sliced or their feathers trimmed.

“Back down!" I demanded, brandishing my weapon at the much larger lion creature.

The bat squealed behind me, scurrying away without so much as a thank you.

The lion roared in response, pressing against my swords point, so that it barely cut into his lean and sullen chest.

“I must eat, human!" He growled, fury in his eye.

“Stand down!" I said again, applying more pressure against his chest. “I will run you through."

The lion-man gave a huff, storming off without another word. I cleaned the blood from my blade before returning it to its sheath.

With a sigh, I turned to see Sir Brunis making his way through the crowd to me. His hand was on his weapon, though it remained sheathed.

“Everything alright?" He asked coming beside me.

“Aye. Though I fear we cannot maintain order for much longer. Our food stores run low, and it's still early in the season." I frowned.

For months, I'd personally witnessed the slavers that passed through the port of Mireshadow. Months I'd pleaded with Captain Illska to close the docks to the ships from Manir. To allow the garrison to apprehend the slavers, and free the poor souls being sent to whatever terrible fate awaited them. Those pleas fell on deaf ears.

Then, nearly a full moon cycle ago, perhaps more, word had reached us that there had been an upset of power in Manir. The king was dead, as was the heir to the throne. The island was in chaos.

It was around this time that the first of the ships arrived.

Longboats from both Skera and Manir, bearing the strangest passengers I'd ever seen. Orcs with the legs of wolves, and tusked hyena-men. Humanoid bat creatures, and various other monstrosities disembarked in our port.

That first day was tense, as the creatures dismounted the ship. Captain Illska had ordered the garrison to take the ship, crew, and passengers into custody. Fort Mireshadow's tiny holding cells were barely enough for the first ship, let alone the others that followed.

We were forced to construct a sort of makeshift transient camp within the training yard. That soon expanded to the stables. It wasn't long until we were building hastily constructed timber walls to house the ever growing population of halfblooded monsters.

Captain Illska was determined to “contain this blight" here, in Mireshadow. He claimed to work on the orders of King Rosklig, but something seemed off. The captain appeared unconcerned, almost uncaring of the conditions of the camp.

With winters approach, food had already been rationed to ensure a steady supply during the cold months, and that was before the first ships arrival. Now, with nearly no food to distribute amongst the camp, a horrible situation was forming.

Stronger, more violent prisoners would prey on the weaker. Some would just devour the corpse after brutally savaging them. Others would merely take a weak one's acquired food.

Disease ran rampant amongst the population, as well, and the cold was hardly held at bay by the hastily constructed shelters.

If we didn't start releasing prisoners, or at the very least, improve living conditions, then there would be a riot.

“Captain Illska is awaiting word on aid from Eastwald. Sent a rider few days back." Brunis stated, trying to sound reassuring. It did little to calm the feeling of unease that nagged at my mind.

“I may be the newest Knight in the garrison, but I'm not foolish. Supplies take time to gather. As does the security to transport such supplies. I doubt we'll see aid for another moon cycle."

Sir Brunis frowned. He leaned in close, eyes scanning the crowd of prisoners nearest us.

“Perhaps we could speak of such things later, when we are not in danger of being overheard?" He whispered to my ear.

I nodded, scanning the crowd myself.

Word was put out that supplies were being assembled, and that had done some good in calming the more passive beasts. Even some of the brutes, like that lion-man, had been pacified with the word. If they heard the misgivings of one of the knights, it could potentially be disastrous.

Hours later, I found myself pulling my swordbelt off and placing it by my shield beside my cot. The barracks and main fort were the last of the garrison to not be converted over to a holding camp.

If current trends held steady, I'd be sleeping at the inn soon.

A small chuckle escaped my lips, as I collapsed into the poorly made bed. It had been a long day, and I was looking forward to some long awaited rest.

Tokala

“You were right." Fyrsil whispered, peering through the slats of the poorly constructed wall. I couldn't help but chuckle at how absurd he looked, what with his long, rabbit-like ears and curled goat horns. He was short, even more so than myself, standing at only about three feet tall. His short fuzzy tail wagged uncomfortably. “Looks like shit."

We had just watched as one of the human knights drew his blade on one of the prisoners, a large lion-folk.

“Definitely hybrids. Likely come from the same dungeon as you." He continued, turning to me. Today, his face appeared as if you mixed a goats with that of a goblins.

Fyrsil was a phooka, a shapeshifting fey that could take the form of almost any animal native to this land. Though he could appear human, he enjoyed using this ability to create a strange assembly of features. Could never get him to tell me why.

I don't remember much about my place of birth. Only what Cesan told me. How he carried me away from the dungeons with him, when he escaped. They were foolish enough to try and enthrall one of the fey. While Satyrs may not be the master enchanters that Nymphs or Nereids are, he was not defenseless against their attempts at mind control.

I'd heard the story so many times that I could recite it now by heart. How he laid eyes upon the pathetic male fox-kit, crying out to the darkness. How he could sense the fey blood that was somehow woven together with that of the natural beast. How he couldn't leave it there to suffer some unknown fate.

He often speculated that I had to be the offspring of a nymph or nereid, because of my natural skill with compulsion and illusion magic's.

Fyrsil would joke that it was really because of my otherworldly beauty. I would punch him. Then he would act all indignant, saying that with a name like Tokala, It was easy to mistake me for a girl. I'd punch him again.

“You think the word is true? That Manir has fallen?" I asked, leaning against the wooden wall.

“Would be great. It's a shame the fey are far too reclusive and homebound. Father would have likely lead an army across the sea, had we the numbers and ships."

The image of various types of fey, all marching rank and file was almost too much.

“Could you imagine old Eika aboard a ship?" I laughed.

“Poor dryad would be hopelessly lost. I don't understand how they can stand being bound to their damn trees. I love the forest and all, but haven't any of them ever wanted to see the world?"

Most fey didn't like to wander far from their homes, as Fyrsil had pointed out. No, most seemed content to live a life in the shelter of their wild places, far from the lands of humans. Perhaps it was because his father was a satyr, but Fyrsil had always been stricken with a sense of adventure and wanderlust that just didn't fit with the rest of his kind.

“Well, what do you think?" He asked.

I glanced back through the wall.

I'm sure there were some truly despicable creatures caged up behind these walls. Some that shouldn't be set free on the world. But there were likely plenty of decent folk, creatures that were brought into this world against their will, by sorcery and magic. They didn't deserve this fate.

If the fey, creatures of nature themselves, found it in their hearts to take in some poor helpless fox-folk like myself, then surely I could try to alleviate some hardship here?

“I'm not saying we should wage war on these humans, or anything. But suppose someone were to play a few harmless jokes?" I grinned wickedly.

“You know I'm always game for a good joke." The phooka smiled. “What do you have in mind?"

Ciara

The crackling of fire was all that kept us from pure silence. That, and the occasional rustle of the wind as it kicked up powdered snow from the trees.

I glanced up from the snowshoe hare that was roasting in my small cooking fire to the large winter wolf that sat off beside the great boulder at the border of the grove of aspen trees that overlooked the lake.

I gave a quiet sigh, accompanied by a small frown. Our entire journey thus far had been one of silence. Perhaps that is what one would expect from a wolf as a traveling companion, but Aatu was certainly no regular wolf.

On their own, winter wolves were intelligent and formidable foes. Aatu made his regular kin look like dumb brutes by comparison.

The son of an alpha wolf and a powerful arctic elf druidess, he seemed, from my personal experience, to be more cunning and dangerous than any of his lesser kin. Trained in druidcraft, he could do what most, including myself, could not.

“Aatu. Would you like some food?" I called to him.

“No thanks." He replied.

Save for his deep, wolf like voice, his words sounded all too human. It was often unnerving.

“You need to keep up your strength."

He did not respond, eyes gazing out over the Freshwater.

I sighed again. The entire journey thus far had been like this. I couldn't blame him. Not really. Just in the short amount of time I'd known him, he'd lost his mother. His friend, the druid Fornvarr, old me of the destruction of his pack. How Aatu himself had almost killed his own brother.

I'm not exactly certain how winter wolves normally mourn their fallen, but I'd always assumed they were far less impacted by death, seeing as they struggled against it daily. But then again, Aatu was no normal wolf.

It is why I chose to come along on this journey. Never thought I'd pledge my services to a beast though. The thought gave me a slight chuckle.

I've been in the employ of humans and elves and dwarves. Some more honorable than others. Even then, none had come to match the wolf's loyalty and kindness.

The term “beast" had definitely come to change meanings since I'd known him.

“We've covered much more ground than I would have expected." I stated, hoping to break the silence. “Reached the Freshwater in only two weeks? Suppose having a druid around is real handy."

The freshwater was a massive lake in the plainlands south of the Sutvald Mountains. Lake didn't do the waterway justice, as it was as large as some of the southeastern saltwater seas. It was fed by two major rivers, and was the main crossroads for inland travel.

Our tiny camp was located on the northern edge, just outside the town of Lakeshire, which was in the distance, appearing to be well asleep under a covering of freshly fallen snow.

The wolf grunted in reply.

I didn't know what to do. The poor creature mourned, and I was helpless.

I drew my small knife, severing a large hunk of rabbit.

The wolf didn't even budge as I came to sit beside him.

I was rather short, even for a Halfling. I glanced up at the large beast. He was easily the size of a pony. For probably the hundredth time since meeting him, I couldn't help but feel grateful that he was as kind-hearted and gentle as he was.

“Hey. Please?" I asked, holding out the hunk of meat for him. He finally broke his vigil over the icy lake, glancing down at the offered scrap of food, barely a mouthful for the wolf.

He exhaled a quivering breath, slowly reaching down and taking the meat gently from my hand, extremely careful not to take my arm with it.

I smiled. “Thanks."

The wolf devoured the meat with a gulp, eyes moving back out over the water.

“Do you think the sightings are my siblings?" he asked distantly.

It was the first time he'd really initiated any conversation since we set off from Rainhaven.

I shrugged.

“It sounds promising. It's been years since any winter wolves have been seen in the Frostbogs. Besides, that port was one of the main travel routes the slavers took departing for Manir. If they escaped anywhere around there, that would make the most sense."

When his mother, Eluniss, died, she told Aatu that his brother and sister were still alive, and that they had somehow managed to escape the clutches of the Manir slave trade.

The Elvish Lords of Rainhaven had been kind enough to gather information on the wolf's behalf, and that is how we had learned of the wolf bandits of the Frostbog.

Apparently, trolls, accompanied by winter wolves, had been raiding the roads just south of the marshland there. Troubles in the port town of Mireshadow had rendered them unable to properly patrol the roads lately, and that made the travelers easy prey.

“It's been a long time since I've seen Cadno and Melrakki. If it is them, I fear what their violence may bring." He said at length, worry in his voice.

“Hey. Like your mother said. Guide them home." I said, running my fingers through his thick white fur.

The wolf fell silent. I cursed myself. Probably not wise to remind he beast of his mother.

“I'm sorry. You should be with your brother. You sought him for so long, you should be at his side, not some somber wolf." He stated.

“Aatu. I asked to be here. I love Camden, and I'm glad he's safe, but he travels with a Naettura! I trust that Aklys will keep him safe. It's you I'm worried about. Not because I doubt your abilities, mind you, since I've seen firsthand what you are capable of. No, I'm here, because I wouldn't be if it weren't for you. I want to help you find your kin, if I can."

He glanced down, examining my face.

I could almost see a small smile come to his muzzle, though it was often difficult to tell on the wolf.

“Thank you." He whispered before returning to his vigil. I shivered against the cold.

Envious of his thick white fur, I retreated back to the small cooking fire, pulling my fur cloak tightly about me.