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Ciara O'Conor

Aatu had once again adopted the form of a large wolfhound like the kinds humans often used for hunting and war.

I had dismounted as we approached the gates of the garrison, seeing soldiers milling about.

“Doesn't look very welcoming." He whispered to me, noting the sealed gate and large quantity of armed men. I could feel him tense next to me.

“This gate is nearest the Frostbogs. Trolls used to raid often from those swamps." I replied.

A man strode down the road to meet us, dressed in a fine chainmail hauberk with a sword strapped to his hip and a round shield slung across his back.

“Well met, Halfling. It would seem our roads are unseasonably busy this winter." He said with a slight bow.

“Hail friend, is this the town of Mireshadow?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Indeed. You've found our sad little garrison." He replied. “What brings you to our gates?"

I took a deep breath, shivering as a small gust cut across the open plains behind me.

“I am a game hunter, if you would believe it. My hound and I have heard talk of a rare thing indeed. Rumor is northern wolves have set upon travelers on your roadways?" I lied.

Aatu and I had agreed that we would omit our true intentions with finding the winter wolves.

I could feel my canine companion tense beside me as I spoke.

Even if he was in on the lie, I did feel somewhat wrong pretending to be a pelt hunter.

“There is some truth to these rumors, though I find it hard to believe that such a young lass is capable of taking down a full grown winter wolf." He said, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

I felt anger boil in my chest, but I forced it back.

“You've clearly never seen a hound as good as ol' Aatu here." I said, ruffling the animals' ears. “And this bow ain't just for show."

He grinned, obviously attempting to hide his skepticism.

“Of course, I apologize. He surely is a handsome hound. He may be a match for a winter wolf, though you must not underestimate such fiends. They are devilishly intelligent, and kill for the soul pleasure of it." The human warned.

Really glad we decided to conceal Aatu's true nature. The wolfhound next to me gave a low moan, as dogs do.

“Ah, I know, boy. It's been a long road." I told him, patting him patronizingly. I was certain the wolf would never speak to me again after this encounter.

“Please, sir, we seek to stay at the inn, and perhaps rest up a day or two. You said there is truth to these rumors. Would there be someone to speak with who would set us on the right path?" I asked.

“Of course, lass. We won't turn away such a small thing, especially if she seeks to rid us of a nuisance." He said, turning back toward the gates. “Sir!" he called.

“What is it?" a man called, coming from the small shack by the gate.

He was dressed in an even finer chain than the soldier I spoke with, however he had a slightly worn, weary look to his face, with a somewhat shaggy overgrown look beginning to take hold.

“The Halfling," he turned to me, “what did you say your name was?" he asked.

“Ciara. Ciara O'Connor." I replied.

“Ciara O'Connor says she's here to rid us of our wolf problem!"

It may have just been me, but it almost sounded as if the man had a tone of mockery.

The man left the pathetic shelter of the shack, coming down the path towards us.

“Let her through, Tenris." He snapped somewhat short.

“Yes, sir, of course." He nodded, stepping aside.

“Ciara O'Connor, was it?" The newcomer asked.

“Yes, sir." I replied.

“I am Sir Brunis of Eastwald." He stated. There was little warmth or welcome to his voice. He seemed distracted.

“Greetings, Sir Brunis. My companion and I seek to stay at the inn, and perhaps seek information on these wolves that have been plaguing you." I repeated.

“Grim times have fallen on Mireshadow, Ms. O'Connor. Be gentle with any judgement you may pass on this post." He warned, leading me toward the gate.

That seemed rather ominous.

“You mean the wolves?" I asked as soldiers pulled the gates open for us.

“Somehow, the wolves have fallen down our list of grievances quite a ways. I would stay clear of the barracks and the large compound off the docks, if I were you." He said pausing just inside the gate.

“The inn is just up the road. You'll see a small paddock and stables. It is the main structure just beyond that." He explained, seeing me off.

I thanked the knight, turning for the snowy road that wound its way further up the hill.

As we ascended the path, I gave a side glance to the large wolfhound beside me.

“I'm sorry. It didn't feel right, pretending to be a hide hunter." I told him.

He exhaled a burst of air from his nostrils with an audible snort.

“I understand our need for secrecy. My presence does not make our task easier. It's just an unnerving thing, to pretend to partake in the hunting of my own kind."

“I can only imagine. Still, I'm sorry." I told him. “That conversation must have been hard for you."

He gave a strange, humanlike shrug, which somehow looked even weirder on a dog than it would have on a wolf.

“Don't worry yourself with it."

We quickly came to the inn, just beside the stables Sir Brunis had described. As I was about to pull the door open, I heard a loud horn being blasted from further up the hill, and glanced toward the direction of the barracks. It appeared people were gathering in large number.

Forgetting about the inn for a moment, I rushed up the hill, Aatu trotting easily beside me.

“What is it?" he asked.

“I'm not sure." I replied, coming to a stop at the back end of a mixed group of soldiers and villagers.

I couldn't see above the crowds heads, but the large wolfhound found it simple enough to part the crowd for me, until we found our way to the front of the gathering.

The crowd had gathered in a circle around the barracks courtyard, with a man standing clad in military attire, with a sword in hand. On the ground next to him sat a man who had been bound in thick rope about the wrists.

Behind them stood a burly looking man with a thick leather apron that was singed from the forge, beside him, one of the most elegant and regal looking women I have ever seen, and that was despite the swollen red eyes from the tears that had no doubt been assailing her.

She had auburn hair that appeared a diluted duller version of my own, though her eyes were a bright emerald green, and her flesh a soft cream.

My heart fluttered just looking at her.

I quickly shook my head, realizing I was blushing. I had never been lost in the beauty of another woman before, and it was somewhat unnerving.

The man began to speak when the crowd had quieted down.

“My very own guardsman, Hjalmar, has betrayed his oath to me, and his oath to the King!" The man cried out, brandishing his sword towards the bound man.

“He has thrown himself at an honored guest and Noblewoman from a friendly nation. When she denied his advances, he attempted to run her through! I am here now to pass judgement now." He continued, gazing out about him.

Aatu nudged against me, giving a slight nod toward the woman beside the blacksmith.

I glanced back at her, trying to comprehend what he was trying to non-vocally tell me, but just couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.

“For such crimes, I would pass the sentence of death, for blatantly assaulting a noble!" the armed mans words drew my attention again.

He turned, aiming his blade the bound man's throat.

The woman flinched at the motion, stepping forward suddenly.

“Please, Captain Illska, I'm certain he meant nothing by it!" she said.

“Speak your peace, Hjalmar." He ordered, ignoring her.

“I-It wasn't my fault, sir. She is a temptress!" he pleaded.

“Weylin witnessed the entire event!" He roared in reply.

“I was not in my right mind! She is a witch!" the bound man spat.

“Please, sir, I fear the man is Ill. His actions earlier in the day showed no aggression or ill intent." The woman said, stepping cautiously closer.

“I will not have subordination." The captain replied.

He pulled his blade back, before suddenly chopping across, cleaving the man's head instantly from his shoulders, much to the gasp of the crowd.

The woman turned away with a look of disgust on her face. The woman the man had apparently attacked, even now accused of witchcraft, had spoken in his defense. The man who now lay dead.

“I'm not certain I'll enjoy our stay here, Aatu." I whispered, making our way through the crowd quickly as it began to disperse.

“They seem to fear witches and are quick to execute. That typically does not bode well for outsiders."

“Have you ever seen a creature like that before?" he whispered to me as we quickly approached the inn, cautious not to be overheard.

“Creature? I saw plenty of humans…" I was unsure of what he was referring too.

“The fox that intervened on the prisoners' behalf. I could sense magic was involved. He was invoking some sort of spell."

“Fox?" I asked, pausing in the road.

The large wolfhound halted with me.

“You did not see him?" he asked.

“I saw the woman, a human woman, who tried to stay the executioners' hand." I replied, raising an eyebrow.

“That was no human woman." He said, gazing back up the hill. “Something strange is going on."

“Perhaps the prisoner was correct about witches?" I offered.

“There's more. The strong scent of death and disease is everywhere here." The druid stated, a hint of discomfort in his voice.

“I think we should try to limit our time in Mireshadow."

Ivaylis Silversun

“So? Do you wish to talk about it?" Hestross asked.

I turned to the centaur, who was trotting unnaturally slowly beside me, accommodating for my slower pace.

I glanced forward, back to the mountainous trail before us.

“Talk about what?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

The truth was, So much had happened since our battle in Manir that I had little time to think about our kiss.

The centaur grinned, not a very common expression I'd seen on his face.

“As I recall it, you kissed me back in Manir." He reminded me.

I focused on the trail ahead.

“I'm sure you know that some magic's can inspire an intense arousal, almost acting as an aphrodisiac." I replied.

“Not the sort of magic an Elvish Royal Guardsman is well versed in." he shot back.

Damn. He was right of course.

“As I recall it, you kissed me right back." I accused him.

He grinned even wider.

“Hey, a beautiful elf is offering a kiss, who am I to refuse?" He replied.

I shook my head.

“I thought centaurs were highly selective of their brides?" I asked as much as stated.

“I've heard humans accuse us of being raping marauders who sweep in from the plains to ravage their women." The centaur stated.

“Humans accuse most peoples of being raping marauders." I laughed.

“Well, as my brother says, don't most stories have some basis in truth?" he quoted Riddaris.

I just couldn't imagine the centaur brothers I'd grown fond of in our travels ravaging anyone against their will.

“I'm not certain why I kissed you." I blurted out suddenly. “I'm sorry."

“I'm not seeking an apology, nor do I accept it. I am perhaps equally to blame." Hestross said.

We were silent for a long while, me lost in my thoughts.

Why had I kissed him? Now that I had a moment alone with the centaur, I was able to really think about it.

The battle seemed rather pointless, as I recall. We were both losing our strength to perform magic, and the enemy was gathering all about us. Our only escape had been into the very heart of their compound.

Had it really been the fear of death that drove me to behave so?

I shook my head. There was no way.

I had seen one hundred and thirty-three years of life. Relatively young for an elf, certainly, but still not a child. In that time, I'd faced death often, and never before acted so.

One hundred and thirty-three years. During that time, I'd witnessed my father's betrayal of the Counsel of Seasons, and the subsequent outcast of him and my mother. Instead of joining them in outcast, I chose to walk a different path. I chose to fulfill my duty to the people of Rainhaven.

Duty.

My entire adult life had been one of duty. Since I was able to wield a sword, I was doing so in the name of Rainhaven, and of the Lords of the Seasons. Everything else fell to the background to allow for my training, my duty, to take center stage.

Perhaps that was it. Never before had I really given thought to my own feelings or wants. Perhaps it was a different sort of duty that drove me to kiss the centaur that night in Manir.

“I've never actually kissed anyone like that before." I told him suddenly.

He turned to me, a strange look on his face.

“So, you've never…" he trailed off.

I blushed slightly.

“No, I've never been intimate with anyone before. As a Captain of the Royal Guard, I never really found time for personal relationships."

He gave a slight chuckle.

“My people certainly don't seem to have the same constraints as men and elves. I'm sure that's where the rumors of horny horsemen come from."

“Elves actually are not as constrained as most human societies, it's just that, I've always been so focused on my duties as a Royal Guard, I've never had the time for anything intimate."

“I can understand that, I suppose. My duties with the circle have led me to a rather solitary life myself." Hestross replied, eyes gazing back toward the road ahead.

I matched his gaze, just as the path crested through a pass with raised rocky edges on either side. It was not unlike the pass I'd met the centaur on my first journey through these mountains, though that was much further to the southwest.

No, we drove as eastward as we could, it seemed, and the forested vales hidden between the thick rocky range all slowly gave way to sparse shrub-land. If a thick blanket of snow hadn't rolled across the land, I was certain the air would have a sort of dusty quality to it.

“Duty is important. To fulfill one's obligations to their kinsman is an honorable thing. But so too is the acknowledgement of one's own desires and needs." He continued at length.

My father came to mind once again. He had once served as the Archmage of the Academy in Akarshan, nearly 300 years before my birth. Back when the academy was an institution headed by the elves, when the elves were much more widespread than they are now.

He had delved deep into the most ancient of arts, some dark and terrible. The heavy tome that rested in the satchel hanging at my side was excellent proof of that. The book was an old grimoire of my fathers, and had been given to me by the counsel as a gift when I had set off with Ciara to rescue her brother.

The grimoire began innocently enough, with minor spells my father had either discovered or crafted, along with various rituals and potion recipes. The longer I read from the book, the more I realized how far my father had truly fallen during his time as the Archmage.

Magic, especially the arcane, proved to be a powerful and terrible thing. Its seductive lure lead him into paths none were meant to walk. It was a lesson I learned well, as the last time I saw my parents, I could not recognize them as such. Even after seventy years, the memory gave me chills.

I shook my head, clearing away the thoughts.

“So, these giants. How will they receive us? I'm unfamiliar with their kind." I asked, changing the subject.

Hestross spoke, eyes scanning the cliffs about us. “It's always difficult to predict with them. Once, long ago, our peoples coexisted on this island rather well. They held the mountains in their entirety, and we galloped in the southern flatlands. We coexisted, because we held our own lands, and kept to ourselves."

“But then you were driven to the mountains?" I asked.

“Aye, by the peoples of Manir. When their settlers first arrived, they brought war, to both the centaurs and the giants. We were driven into the mountains. Conflict has defined our relations ever since."

Just then, a large form came into view from the distance. It lumbered up the mountain path.

I had expected to see a hide clad brutish oaf, with sapling slung over his shoulder like a weapon, but was rather shocked to see the well dressed and groomed warrior, complete with large spectacled helm and thick round shield.

I tensed some, seeing the heavy sword that was strapped the massive man's hip.

He had a large whitish grey beard that was flowing from beneath the mask of his helm, and a bluish hue to his skin.

“Frost giants?" I asked.

“Aye." Hestross nodded.

“Ironhoof." The giant called in a deep, booming voice.

“Hail, Vignyr." Hestross replied.

“We received your message. What words have you?" the giant said, coming to a halt close enough to put that massive sword to use. We would still have to close ground.

“My ally and I seek to travel to the ruins of Old Manir. We are on a mission of great urgency, and ask for safe passage through your lands."

The giant gave a snorting chuckle.

“What mission could possibly bring you to the ruins of the old fortress? Pick through the bones of my ancestors?" the giant growled.

“We believe that the abominations rising from the city to the south have something to do with the old ruins." Hestross explained.

The giant thought for a moment.

“We leave the old fortress alone. It would be wise if you do the same."

“Our mission is too vital." I stated.

The giant turned, eyeing me.

“A beast dwells there elf. One that has torn many of my people asunder. A demon straight from the shadowlands." He grunted.

A chill spread down my back, but it wasn't from the cold.

“Exactly why our road leads there now." Hestross said.

The giant thought for another moment.

“Very well. We grant you safe passage. We shall not, however, intervene if you bring draw the wrath of that beast." He stated.

“Thank you, Vignyr." Hestross gave a slight bow.

“Do not thank me, horseman. You may be going to your end. Is that all?"

I moved to nod, but Hestross words interrupted me.

“No, there is more." He stated. I turned to look at him.

“My people plan to move against the city in the south, to take back our lands and drive out the blight of Manir. We await word of aid from the elves of Rainhaven. However, we would also ask for the giants' aid in this endeavor."

I glanced back up into the massive face of Vignyr, which was mainly concealed by beard and that helmet.

“Hestross, why would we pledge ourselves to your cause?" he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Our people have had many conflicts over the years. Many skirmishes and loss on both sides. Before that, we managed to live in peace. Before Manir. The circle believes we can attain such peace again. We only need to drive out the blight that infects these lands."

The wind gust through the pass, filling an uncomfortable silence with its howl. It would have bothered me, I was certain, if it hadn't been for the warmth spell I'd cast earlier that morning.

At long last, the giant spoke.

“You would relinquish your holdings in the mountains?" he asked.

“We have no desire to reside there. Centaurs delight in flat lands, not the rocky confines of the valleys here."

“I will bring this proposal to King Jornkaldr. It is his authority to determine such an alliance. If you are to survive your journey to old Manir, meet me in this place two weeks from now. I shall have your answer then." The giant said, before turning without another word.

“You didn't tell me you planned on diplomacy with the giants over Manir." I said to Hestross as the giant lumbered down the path.

“The circle wished I keep it from you. They still do not trust your intentions, and I am sworn to obey their word." He frowned.

“I watched the entire exchange?" I pointed out.

“Yes, but I'm here to keep an eye on you, perhaps stop you from informing the elves in Rainhaven of our underhanded dealings with giants." He laughed sarcastically.

“I wouldn't call it underhanded. Forging an alliance with strong allies would indeed prove beneficial." I said.

“Don't elves dislike giants?" the centaur asked.

“I don't have warm feelings for them. My people tolerates those who are willing to listen to reason. We may not care for their warlike ways, but we are dwarves, who harbor blind hatred for certain species." I explained.

“Is that why an orc was allowed to roam Rainhaven?" he asked, referring to Skempta.

“Orcs don't always listen to reason. They are a bit harder for my kind to tolerate." I admitted.

“Skempta is different."

“With her lighthearted front, she harbors much honor, and much pain." Hestross commented.

“What do you mean?" I asked, turning to face him.

I had always seen Skempta as an able warrior, for sure, but her constant crude humor, coupled with her indecent nudity never really endeared itself to me.

Then I realized I stood beside a fully nude centaur.

“It's a front. The making light of everything. She chose to follow Rekkdyr into the unknown to what, help elves?" he asked.

“She was loyal to that gnoll. Almost to a fault. Even now, she seeks for a way to follow him into the shadowlands." I thought aloud.

“Would any of us be so blessed to have such a friend? Yet, it is beyond that. There is magic in her feyblood. She is capable of sensing the rising darkness."

“I cannot sense anything. I know there is a darkness rising, because I've seen it, but I cannot 'feel' any aura or presence that hints at its lingering presence." I commented.

“Arcane magic is a strange thing. It's often powerful and incredible to behold, but it is lacking." The druid explained.

I felt obligated to feel insulted at this statement.

“Oh?" I asked, somewhat sarcastically.

“Nature magic, fey magic, it all comes from a closeness to the earth. Ask the wolf, Aatu, and I'm certain he will tell you of the world in a way that you have never heard. The words of the wind, the thunder of drums from the earth. He will speak of the voice of a creature as simple as a squirrel. There is wisdom in such perception. When the world speaks to you, you hear of its ailments."

My gaze fell back to the road before us.

“I'm sorry." I apologized.

“There is no need." He replied.

What sort of beast do you suppose lurks in the ruins?" I asked, changing the subject. We began to make our way down the road once more.

“I fear one capable of slaying a Naettura guardian." The centaur replied.

Lord Aquilis Wintershade

Sitting in the large oaken throne, King Jaris of Duskshire towered above everyone else in the room. He was a tall man, powerfully built, even in his old age. The true physical representation of a king. Perhaps a slightly different upbringing, and he may have made a truly great king.

The great hall was lined with men and women, some clad in iron coats, some wearing the fine embroidered tunics and dresses of nobility, all eyes watching me and the small band of royal guardsmen that accompanied me, as I strode forth to halt before the seated human.

“Hail, King Jaris Feldrin, Gnollslayer and guardian of Duskshire." I said with a slight bow.

The elvish soldiers accompanying me all mimicked my move.

“Lord Aquilis Wintershade, an honor it is to have one of the few remaining elvish lords to grace my halls." Jaris said, the faintest hint of sarcasm detectable in his voice. I could see his confidence had only grown with age.

“King Jaris, I come on a mission of diplomacy in these dark times." I told him.

“Ah, so you seek to form an alliance?" he asked.

“Indeed. You must have heard the rumors out of Manir?" I replied.

The grey-bearded man reclined back, an air of disinterest about him.

“Manir is a far distance away, and word is that Eastwald has been doing an excellent job with mitigating any threat from these demented halfbreeds." He chuckled.

Long ago, nearly seven decades now, this man was born. The counsel had been invited to attend the birth of the heir of Duskshire then, and only a blink in the lifetime of an elf had passed. I had seen nearly nine lifetimes to his one, and still he found it appropriate to condescend.

“Though I fear what constitutes 'mitigating any threat,' I do not speak of the hybrids. I refer to the darkness of the shadowlands, which once again threatens to invade Ryze." I explained.

“I've seen no evidence of any such threat. I fear the elves have failed to remain as influential in recent times, because they fear to release their grasp on such outdated myths about shadow demons and restless dead." The king stated.

This was the real reason the elves had grown so insular of late. Over the past few decades, it seemed the short lived humans had allowed the memory of the first wars with the shadowlands to fall from their minds. There were even parts of Ryze where men had never known magic, and doubted its existence.

“One of our very own have come face to face with the Harbinger. The very Gnoll you carried back from the south gave his life fighting the rising darkness."

“Ah, yes, I hear my little experiment was well received by your people. Gave him a meaningless title and all. Turns out a beast can be taught to walk and talk like a man."

My neck was beginning to ache from tension, as anger filled me. I didn't understand how this man could be so cavalier about the gnoll's passing. Had he only spared the beasts life, as he put it, as an experiment?

“Please, King Jaris, we only seek friendly interactions with the people of Duskshire. Our intention is to keep friendly relations with our nearby neighbors. Do not believe in the return of the Harbinger if you wish, I cannot force your mind. I do, however plead that you consider opening trade once again between our peoples. Foster a relationship of comradery."

“As I recall it, the alliance came to Rainhaven many years ago to ask for assistance against the Gnoll Hordes. We were turned down then. Why, then, should we pledge aid and allegiance to the elves?"

My jaw was hurting now from the constant tension.

“We could not commit the forces. We were besieged by the red dragon, Skranix!"

The king gave a slight sigh.

“I will consider your words. In the meantime, you and your men are welcome to stay in Duskshire, pending my decision. That is all for now."

As the great hall emptied of its occupants, I turned to my guardsman, the spellblade Surva.

“Blasted fool." I whispered to him as we walked from the chamber. “Any word of Vailadriel yet?" I asked.

Vailadriel had once again gone missing, though this time she disappeared right from the Palace of Seasons itself.

“No, my lord. They know she left with the fey-orc. There has been no sight or word of the princess since." Surva replied.

I hadn't wanted to leave after Vailadriel had disappeared. I would have remained behind to aid in the search for her, had my mission to Duskshire not been one of dire importance. Now, it seemed my stay would be lengthened, all awaiting words of what the human king decided.

He was not going to make it easy, I feared.

“Remain in constant contact. I would hear immediately any developments."

Tokala

I never was fond of violence.

I felt my chest quiver slightly as I inhaled, the last images of the man's life flashing in my mind.

Had it been my fault? Were my charms to blame for his actions, or did they merely reveal an inner darkness in the humans heart? Had my carelessness with my magic resulted in his death?

My existence was possible, because of violence.

I was born in the dungeons of Manir, to parents I will never know. The likeliness of their union being willing was questionable at best.

Many humans feared the fey, and their magics. Most humans feared wild beasts. I was a combination of the two, and perhaps represented their ultimate nemesis in a world that grew increasingly afraid of the “unnatural," “weird," or “wild."

“My lady." Captain Illska's voice broke my thoughts.

I glanced up into his eyes.

We were sitting in the main hall at the same oaken table he insist we dine at together. This deception was growing old.

“Captain Illska?" I asked, noting the seriousness of his face.

“I trusted Hjalmar with my life, and he betrayed me. His claim was witchcraft. I have troubles believing such superstitions…" he paused for a moment, eyes never leaving mine. “However, I must admit, strange things have been happening since your arrival. Furthermore, there has been no sign of this caravan of yours."

My heart rate increased slightly. My charms had somehow failed with influencing the captain at the execution, and I was exhausted from the attempt. I was unaware if I would be able to use them now to get out of suspicion.

“I know not what could have happened to them. They were on the road when I was separated. That was the last I saw of them. Do I really appear to be capable of witchcraft? I have only conducted myself with integrity since my arrival!" I said, tears coming to both my illusions eyes, and my real ones.

The sorrow I felt was from both the reality of death and the strong emotions I felt from my thoughts.

The world was a dangerous and deadly place. Growing up among the fey had been a wonderful shelter from the darkness of the world. I was raised to the backdrop of a carefree freedom that could not be found in any other society I had ever encountered. It seemed my home was truly a unique place that could not be reproduced anywhere else.

Indeed, every time I ventured forth from the Reach, I encountered a Mireshadow. A Manir.

Perhaps not to the same extent of their tyrannical torments, but the oppression is nonetheless there.

“Come, my dear Lady Kala. I meant you no offense. I am merely required to consider every possibility in my position." He comforted, sitting beside me on the bench and taking my hand up in his.

I glanced into the man's face. Why hadn't my charms worked in that moment? Just before the sword fell?

I had directed everything I had to save Hjalmar's life, even if he was my attacker. If there was even a chance that my charms were the sole cause of his behavior, he should have been saved.

The attempt had been dangerous, as it was what got me into trouble with Hjalmar to begin with, and it had utterly failed.

I saw a glimmer behind the human's eye as he locked his with mine. It was a faint thing, impossible to notice if you were untrained, but it was there.

The barest hint of an enchantment. A spell, not unlike those that came so naturally to me.

But this one did not originate from me.

And it was subtle. Someone was controlling this man with powerful magic, and they did not want anyone to find out.

“I-it's okay. I understand, Captain." I said, rising to my feet. “I-If you'll excuse me, this has been a taxing day. I would retire early, if you give me leave?"

He nodded, allowing my hand to fall from his.

“Very well, my lady, may the night find you comfort."

As I walked back to my chambers, I had to fight the urge to run. There was something beyond what I had originally considered.

My charms had seemed to work on the human in the past, but perhaps that was because they hadn't interfered with the powerful enchantment that was now placed on him. Perhaps somebody wanted Hjalmar dead, someone with powerful magic.

The type of magic that would enthrall the captain so deeply was far beyond anything most mages are capable of.

The thought gave me chills as I pulled the heavy oaken door closed behind me.

Now in my chambers, I collapsed on the bed.

I was afraid I had stumbled into a situation that was quickly growing into something I didn't think Fyrsil and I could handle on our own. I had to tell Fyrsil of what transpired, and about the captains' enchantment.

One thing was certain, the captain would be watching me much closer now.

Sir Araed Kappis

The day's events had proven exhausting, despite my relatively easy duties. An execution is never a light affair, especially if it is one of your own.

I hadn't known Hjalmar well, only interacting with him on a few occasions, but he never struck me as the type of man to behave so. That very thought is what drove me out of the barracks this night.

I had wandered the streets of the garrison as twilight fell upon us, just dwelling on the strange occurrences over the past few days. Or had it been weeks? Even time seemed to be flowing inconsistently.

I wracked my mind, trying to recall the very first of the strange events. Of course, it would have been the arrival of the ship laden with hybrid monstrosities. But after that? Sure, we had difficulties with setting up a refugee encampment, and keeping the peace, but that was all fairly standard when it came to such things.

No, the first odd event I could recall was the arrival of the lone rider, Lady Kala. Even thinking of the woman, however, I realized that her story did seem to hold up. Strange for a traveler this late in the season, surly, but not unheard of. In fact, Sir Brunis told me just earlier that another lone traveler arrived this morning, perhaps even stranger than Lady Kala.

Items had been being misplaced, which is fairly normal. A forgetful soldier and a lapse of discipline, and a sword may somehow find its way hiding behind a bookcase. Perhaps that is not so normal.

And then the horses getting drunk, and a distinct lack of evidence pointing to a culprit. Auka had indeed been seeing by many individuals at the barracks, and those same men swore he had been in for the night. Yet the stable girl clearly remembered him returning after dark.

I shook my head.

These events did seem to correspond with the arrival of Lady Kala. But really, witchcraft? I've seen some things that were difficult to explain, especially in my time of being garrisoned here in Mireshadow, but mind control through magic seemed…extreme.

Besides, Lady Kala seemed nice enough. Just the thought of her sent a warming sensation through me.

Warming…

The light flickering in the taverns window looked inviting. It was my third lap around the garrison in my mindless wandering before I finally decided to give in and stop for an ale.

The door swung shut behind me as I stepped into the light of the tavern.

“Ah, Sir Kappis, don't see much o' ye around here, milord." The bartender called with a big toothy grin. I was unsure of the man's name, but he seemed a nice enough fellow.

“Mug o' ale exactly the thing to ward off the nights cold, eh?" he grinned.

“My thoughts exactly." I replied with a smile of my own.

I always seemed to get along well enough with the common folk. I often wondered if I were truly better off as the son of a minor lord, or if life would be more, say, carefree as a commoner? It was something my father always seemed to dislike.

I sat at a small oaken table near the bar, and the large bartender came and sat a massive mug of ale down before me.

“Thank you, Mr.?" I asked.

“Oh, forgive me, milord, the name's Calver!" He replied.

I counted out the appropriate amount of coin and slowly began to nurse on the drink, glancing around the room.

As it was to be expected, the room was primarily filled with drunken soldiers, off duty and spending their pay the only way they can in such a remote garrison.

Then you had the random villager sitting about in their clusters, holding various conversations about who knows what.

The newcomer, however, seemed to catch my eye. This halfling Sir Brunis told me about. She was sitting in the corner of the tavern, nursing an ale about the same size as my own, though it appeared much larger in her tiny hands. Sitting at the same table with her was a massive hunting hound.

I actually had to blink to make sure my eyes were working appropriately, as she seemed to be whispering to the hound, who was watching her intently.

I watched them for a while, all the while nursing my ale.

She had long since drained her own massive beverage, before unrolling a large roll of parchment, and pointing something out to the massive hound, who seemed to lean forward to see what she was identifying to him.

Then, she quickly looked around, and I lowered my gaze before she caught me looking at her.

A moment later, I glanced back to see the parchment had disappeared, and she was scanning the room, all the while whispering to the large hound.

I was extremely cautious not to let her catch me watching. She turned her attention back to the hound.

“Another, milord?" Calver asked suddenly.

It was then that I realized my ale was empty.

“Ah, y-yes, please." I stuttered, caught off guard.

“Alrigh'" Calver said, turning for the bar.

“Ah, Calver?" I called him back.

He turned, lowering to hear over the loud din of the tavern.

“Yes, milord?" he asked.

“The halfling lass over there, can she have a hound in here?" I asked.

“With how well she tipped, she can do anything she wants, milord." He grinned.

“I was just curious. Have you heard anything about her? I hear she's a game hunter of some sort?"

“Strange profession for such a young tiny thing, if ye ask me. Though that hound sure looks the part." He replied.

“Yer not thinkin' o' askin' her fer a kiss, are ye?" he asked with a grin.

“Of course not, just curious is all. Not every day you see one of the tiny folk." I replied.

“I jus' askin', 'cause many o' yer lads already have tried. Fiery one, that. Tad too small fer me."

I watched as he left, before turning my attention back to the halfling.

She started laughing, seemingly to the massive dog.

It was then that I could have sworn the dog grinned.

I blinked, giving a slight shake of my head. Either the ale was hitting me harder than usual, or that dog was smiling.

The halfling whispered something, and this time, I watched her canine companion closer, and could just make out across the room the movement of his lips. I glanced back at the halfling, and her eyes met mine, that grin on her face quickly fading to a frown.

By now, Calver had returned with another ale, placing it on the table. I rose to leave, placing the required coin down for the new drink.

“I'm sorry, Calver, but I fear something has come up. Here is coin for this drink, why don't you enjoy one yourself." I said, turning for the door. I gave one last look at the halfling, who was quite now, both her and her companion watching me as I left.

Unnerving.

I was hurrying now, eager to put distance behind me and that tavern. What had I really just seen?

Sure, I've heard legends and myths of talking animals and the like, but never had I experienced it firsthand. I hardly counted the monstrosities in the refugee encampment, because they were all a seeming blend of humanoid races, and thus their sentience could be explained.

But this hound? Had it really been talking?

Could this halfling have something to do with the strange occurrences around the garrison?

I shook my head. A fog seemed to be drifting through my mind, which I blamed the ale for.

That had to be it. The ale was just effecting me more than it should be.

As I approached the garrison, movement to my left caught my attention. It shadow moved along the outer wall to the garrison, and it appeared to be attempting to pry off a broken plank from the wooden palisade wall.

Gripping my sword hilt, I slowly moved forward, trying to keep my chain coat from rattling.

As I drew closer, a large form slowly gave way to the distinct outline of a human.

“Come, quickly, I can lead you to the southern gate. From there, we can make our way along the coast." A male voice whispered.

“W-why are you doing this?" a strange, feminine voice asked, as a second form slowly began to squeeze its way out of the hole made by the humans' attempts. He helped pull her through, and I could make out a strange, short reptile-like silhouette beside him now.

“Because, I-I love y-you." The man said.

I drew my blade, drawing both of their attentions.

“Halt, there." I called, moving through forward.

Sir Brunis came into view, a pale look of shock upon his face.

“A-Araed!" he stuttered, taking a step in front of the same salamander-like creature I'd seen him with a few days ago.

“Sir Brunis. What is going on here?" I asked calmly, trying to avoid any conflict.

“I-I, uh, I'm getting Slana out of here!" he said, finding courage, and taking a threatening step forward.

I stepped back, ready to defend myself.

“You're breaking your oath." I pointed out.

“I did not swear any oath to partake in the suffering of innocents!" he growled.

“I'm certain there are many beasts in that encampment that would willing slaughter you, given the opportunity."

He shook his head.

“All the better reason release the harmless ones!" he argued.

“How do you tell one from another?" I asked, circling around.

“Slana hasn't tried to kill anyone! That's a good start!"

I glanced at the salamander woman, who was clearly terrified, creeping slowly back towards the hole in the wall.

“She cannot stay here, Araed! She requires warmer climates. She is dying! If not from the cold, then starvation!" my friend pleaded, a look of sincere worry on his face.

“You love her?" I asked, glancing back at the creature.

“With all my heart." He stated.

The tiny salamander was far from what I remembered Brunis lusting after at brothels or at the tavern. This was likely why he had been behaving so strangely.

I could see the legitimate fear in the creature's eye behind him, and the look of hopeless despair on my friends face.

I didn't like the idea of innocents suffering any more than this man did, but this was treason! To knowingly break an oath, disobey your superiors, and even desert your post!

I shook my head. If I were to call alarm to his escape, he may confront me, in which case one or both of us could be slain. If he doesn't confront me, then he will be executed, much like Hjalmar had been. It seemed my friends' fate rested on my decision, and I just couldn't decide.

He seemed to realize this, as well, because he watched me intently, almost as if he could see the battle waging in my mind.

At length, I returned the sword to its scabbard, stepping aside.

“I never saw you tonight, you never saw me. If they find you, your life is forfeit. As is mine if they know I let you go." I warned him.

His face lit up slightly, relief more than anything.

“T-thank y-you, Araed. I will never forget this!" he said, placing his blade back in its scabbard as well.

I waited for them to move off, before I too emerged from the shadows. The barracks was not far now.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes. This had been a truly strange night.

Tomorrow, of course, would be even worse, once alarm had been raised about a missing knight.

Sadly, another missing prisoner may be passed off as another slain to feed a hungry mouth.