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Vailadriel

“Mother!" I cried bursting through the door of her study with little ceremony or grace.

My private guardsman rushed behind me, muttering apologies to the Lady of Autumn.

“Vail?" She asked alarmed, quickly taking her feet at my sudden entrance. “What's wr—“

“What do you know of the Land of Shadows?" I asked, interrupting her.

She frowned.

“Vail. You must move on. He's gone."

“You and Lady Eava have spent hours researching it. What do you know?" I demanded.

“I've told you everything I know. Everything that Aklys knew. Even if we knew how to enter the land of the dead, it would be impossible to find Rekkdyr."

I slammed the large ring down on her desk.

“This was on my desk!" I cried.

Her eyes widened. “Rekkdyr's ring? The one you made?"

“The one he was wearing when he drove his blade through the Harbinger's back!" My chest was heaving with fear, excitement, and dread all at once.

“Aklys said he had lost a hand shortly before their encounter with the Harbinger. Perhaps it was on that hand?" my mother asked, though even she didn't look certain.

“Aklys' also claimed it was this ring that shielded him from the magic of the Harbinger!"

My mother's frown deepened. I could not quite read the emotions that crossed her eyes.

“He has to be alive!" I snapped, growing impatient.

Never before had I ever spoken to my mother in such a way. I almost expected her to shout back. She merely lowered her gaze.

“I fear the reappearance of this ring may not mean what you wish, Vail." She whispered, raising her hand to my cheek.

I pulled away with a glare, tears rolling freely down my cheek.

“He's alive. I know this in my heart." I exhaled with a quivering breath, attempting to compose myself. “I will do whatever it takes to find him."

Before she could argue, I scooped up the ring before turning on my heel to leave the study. I made an immediate path to the library, my guardsman jogging to keep up.

Moments later, I found myself in the Palace Library of Rainhaven, peering through the bookshelves and tables for the antlered orc. I quickly found her sitting at a table with a new stack of books before her. She was grumbling as she slammed one closed, before rubbing her eyes.

“Wait here." I ordered my guardsman.

“Yes, m'lady."

I approached Skempta, who hadn't noticed my arrival. I pulled the chair out opposite her, which drew her gaze.

“The princess finally sets foot outside her chambers." The orc stated, placing another book in the pile.

“You seek information on the Land of Shadows?" I asked, eyeing the books.

“Trying. Be much easier if I could read elvish." She growled.

“There are many here that could translate."

“None willing to translate for an orc, even one who is feyblooded." She reminded.

“I could have."

“You were locked away in your study."

I lowered my gaze.

“It matters not. I'm beginning to realize that I'm not going to find answers here." She said, leaning back in her seat.

“Besides, I think I've overstayed my welcome." She added, eyes darting to the guardsman who watched us from across the room.

“Where will you go?" I asked.

“Probably return to Avaltiss Reach. There is one there who may help." She replied. “I thought that while I was here, I could try to find anything in the library, as Rainhaven is renowned for its library."

“If you could travel to the Land of Shadows, would you?" I asked.

She eyed me suspiciously. “For the gnoll, yes. Why?"

I placed the ring on the table between us. Her reaction matched my mothers.

“Where did you get this!?" She demanded.

“It was placed on my desk in my chambers."

A look of worry crossed her face, much like my mothers. She rose suddenly.

“I fear I must push up my departure." She said.

“Wait." I stood, catching her arm.

“I'm coming with you." I whispered, careful to not let my guard overhear.

“Absolutely not!" Skempta growled, turning to me.

“I will not have an elvish city hunting me down, because I allowed their princess to follow me into the untamed Reach."

“I'm not asking." I glared up at the massive orc. She glanced cautiously over at the guardsman, who was watching us, hand resting on his sword.

She sighed, glancing back at me.

“Fine. But be ready to leave before first light." She whispered.

For perhaps the first time in weeks, I felt a small smile growing on my lips.

Perhaps it wasn't the undeniable evidence he was alive that I sought, but it was enough, and I was taking action.

Camden

The Frozen Wastes were a stretch of near permanent sea ice that bridged the span of the northern sea between the land of Ryze and the Northern Expanse beyond.

As far as the peoples of Ryze were concerned, the Northern Expanse was a stretch of wilderness long forgotten. Just the journey across the waste was enough to turn aside most adventurers. Besides, the Sutvalds themselves held no shortage of wilderness and adventuring opportunities.

According to myth, the old kingdom of Ryze once stretched across the sea, with the very capital of the kingdom somewhere in the large expanse. The war with the Lord of the Shadowlands had changed all that, with the destruction of the city, and the abandonment of the lands to the north.

Word said that the world never knew the colds of winter before those days. That when the legions of the damned marched on Ryze, the world was cast into a frozen darkness of which the effects could still be felt to this day.

Aklys claimed that there was a small shred of truth to that, that the lands to the north had indeed been cursed. That the winters here were not always so harsh.

She spoke of long green summers, we autumns, and mild winters. So long ago.

I gazed out at the shoreline before us from my perch atop the great cats back. I could feel the harsh northern winds cutting through the thick winter clothing that adorned my tiny frame.

Shivering I glanced down at the magnificent Naettura beneath me. If the cold bothered her, she did not show.

“Here we are." I shouted against the wind.

You sound cold. Aklys stated.

“Hey, I'm but a poor Halfling. Not every species is blessed with a fine winter coat."

We will find shelter on the mainland. She replied, bolting forward with great bounds.

I was rather surprised at how quickly she bound up the shoreline, coming into the shelter of snow crusted trees.

“How far from here?" I asked.

I'd say about a week, if we maintain our current pace.

She slowed to a trot.

It would have probably been quicker if she had come alone. The thought had crossed my mind a few times.

Aklys had no need of tents, or fires, or the like. She would not have had to bear my weight, as well as the weight of my pack.

I was glad to be there, by her side, but I couldn't help but feel guilty. As if I was slowing her for the sole benefit of being in her company. How could I be so selfish?

If you are selfish, I am just as much. Truth be told, I was elated when you demanded to accompany me. Her voice cut into my mind. I groaned.

“It's not nice to eavesdrop on people's thoughts, Aklys." I laughed. “But thanks."

I gave a long yawn, slumping forward slightly. It had been weeks since I'd had a full restful sleep. Every time I finally succumbed to exhaustion, I would quickly be woken again by those nightmares. Memories.

That wasn't you. Aklys told me for perhaps the thousandth time. You need to sleep.

“I'll be alright." I reassured her.

I heard no response in my head. I could almost feel the tension rolling off of her, however.

Even with everything that had happened in my life, I felt blessed.

I had been kicked out of the most prestigious academy in the world, captured and tortured by psychopaths, and disowned by my own father. Still.

I had a sister who followed me into exile, loving me unconditionally. Aklys, worshipped by many as a goddess, she my lover, never pulling rank or age, despite her vast experience.

I was not worthy of such a life.

Aatu

We had seen the last of the Freshwater nearly three days back. Now we travelled the open plains, though with the heavy snowfall it seemed more like a sea of endless snow about us.

In the distance, a dark line cut its way through the landscape, the Cathasach River was the last obstacle separating us from the Frostbogs.

It was the halfway point between the Freshwater and the Coast, at least, that is what the elves told us as we prepared for our journey.

Ciara had wanted to stop at the town of Lakeshire for a few days, to rest and recover.

From everything I'd learned of the men of lakeshire, they were a less hardy folk than those of Drifa, located so far from the frontier as they were, and on a main crossroads no less. I doubted I would receive as warm a welcome among them. She agreed, though reluctantly.

The snows had been falling for most of our journey, though varyingly in intensity. The roads were snowed over and deep, much too deep for the tiny Halfling to wade through easily. I had asked her a few times if she wanted to ride on my back, but she seemed reluctant to do so.

I suspected that she was afraid I would be insulted.

Could I really blame her? I had been quite solemn this trip thus far, and not particularly the best of company.

I would see her watching me out of the corner of her eye, a look of concern on her face. Any reassuring I did seemed to be half-hearted though, and I knew she could tell.

Finally, as the winds gusted harshly from the north, and the snows began to tower up to the Halfling's chest, she accepted my offer.

I knew my father would likely not approve of me bearing a humanoid creature like a faithful horse, but I cared not. My father would have not approved of most of the things that befell me in my life.

“How many more days would you guess?" the Halfling asked from my back.

“Leita." I whispered, a small gust of frost escaping my lips with the muttered spell.

It was a handy spell the half-dryad Lady Eava taught me. One to help in discerning distance, direction, and general orientation. According to the spell, we only had about half a day of travel till we reached the bridge.

I told her as such.

Sure enough, a few hours later we found ourselves coming upon the river, and a small stone bridge.

To my surprise, though, it wasn't empty.

“What is this?" I asked.

Men milled about the bridge, and it appeared a small tent city had been set up on the opposite bank.

“I am unsure. Their banners mark them as men of Eastwald." Ciara informed me, though I could do little with the information.

“They are friendly to most, though I'm unsure why they are camped so far north, and on a bridge crossing no less."

“Is there any chance of finding another place to cross?" I asked.

“Unlikely. The river is large enough, and the air mild enough that I doubt it is frozen over. We could always try to fly, if you are certain you can bear my weight with you." She replied.

“You don't weigh much. Though I'm unsure what form I could take that would be sufficient." I told her.

“We could always trust they are not hostile?"

“I could take the form of a dog or pony?" I suggested.

“That may be best. Most men from the southern lands are unfamiliar with winter wolves. They may not attack because I sit on your back, or they may attack out of fright."

A moment later, I was a large wolfhound, like the ones humans often raised to hunt my kind. It somehow felt wrong.

“Pretty handy little trick." Ciara whispered as we bounded through the snow, which was much more difficult now that I wasn't quite as large.

“Can be disorienting adjusting to such a sudden shift in awareness." I told her.

“You make it look so tough." She laughed.

I forced a strange canine chuckle.

Ever since our stay at the camp outside of Lakeshire, I'd been trying to be more sociable, though it had proven tough. My mind constantly drifted back to my mother, and the pack I had lost. To the mission at hand.

Then, the words of Fornvarr would echo in my head, and the guilt that my mission was somewhat selfish, if indeed the darkness that grew out of Manir was as dire as he felt.

Then guilt, knowing that there was more I could have done.

To save my pack.

To save my mother.

I gave a small shake of my head.

“You grow accustomed to it quickly when you leap off a cliff as a wolf, and have to catch yourself on the wings of a raven." I told her.

She chuckled. “Have you actually done that?"

“My first successful change."

“No! Putting a lot of faith in your abilities?" she said in disbelief.

“I'll tell you about it sometime. I suspect a talking dog will be just as suspicious as a massive winter wolf." I said before falling silent as we approached the bridge.

The bridge itself had been kept relatively cleared of snow by the men who milled about it.

One of the men stepped forward. He was dressed in chainmail and furs, and wore a sword strapped to his side.

“Hail, friend!" he called to Ciara.

“Well met, sir." She replied.

“What business brings a lone Halfling and her riding hound out on such a winter evening?" he asked.

“I travel to city of Mireshadow." She grinned in an attempt to appear friendly.

“Well, I should warn you. The roads to the east have proven to be unsafe. Wolves and trolls have been descending from the Frostbogs to fall upon hapless travelers. They may find a lone Halfling lass such as yourself a tempting target." He warned.

“There are few things Aatu and myself can't handle." Ciara laughed, patting the side of my neck as she did.

“No doubt. Quite the hound." He grinned. “Say, you haven't seen a caravan on the road, have you? Particularly from the Kingdom of Duskshire?"

“A caravan, this time of year? I thought I'd be the only one daft enough to travel through the winter storms." She replied.

“Aye, thought it strange myself, but a rider has come through from Mireshadow bearing news of their diplomat's safe arrival. Guess she was separated from the rest."

“The road has been clear, other than the deep snow." She replied.

“Come, spend the night with some fire and mead." He offered.

“I'm sorry, sir, but I should move onward. Still a few miles to travel yet, and I yearn for the comforts of the inn." She replied.

“I don't blame you. I was not reluctant to take this posting on the bridge here, midwinter."

“What brings you so far north?"

The knight frowned.

“Well, troubling rumors have reached us of armies on the move. Akarshan has called its banners, for what purpose, we know not. We suspect they will march on one of their neighbors come spring. As one of those neighbors, we do not wish to be caught off guard."

“What of the rumors coming out of Manir? I've heard the entire royal family lies dead?" Ciara asked, knowing full well the truth of her own words.

“Best we've heard is ships bearing strange creatures have been arriving at various ports across the eastern coast. I'm not certain how true any of these are, but perhaps you can learn of it when you arrive in Mireshadow?" he grinned.

Well, thank you, sir. May I cross?"

He stepped aside, and allowed us to trot across.

Once we arrived to the other side, we were escorted through the small tent city, to the border and sent on our way.

Once we were a good distance from the encampment, and I was certain the white hills shrouded us from view, I regained my normal form.

“Akarshan's calling their banners?" I asked.

“It means they have called all their subordinate lords to gather their armies. It's typically done in preparation for war." Ciara explained.

The wars of men very rarely concerned the winter wolves of the tundra, though there was some nagging dread at the back of my mind. Something wasn't right.

I tried to shake the feeling.

I glanced to the north east, to the large expanse of the Frostbogs there.

My siblings were supposed to be there, amongst the frozen marshes and mires. I was unfamiliar with the local area, and did not know what to expect.

“If only Camden were. He is well read in the history of the bogs, and the types of beasts that reside there." Ciara said, following my gaze.

“Perhaps the people of Mireshadow will know more?" I offered.

With that, we set off, trying to put as much ground between us and the river camp before the final rays of sun fell beyond the western horizon.