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Riddaris

My heart thundered with the force of an arctic gale, matching that of my hooves as I galloped as quickly as I could through the tight confines of the centaur camp.

The sounds from the birthing tent sent shivers up my spine. Elska was about to give birth.

Leaping a playing colt with no difficulty, I dove forth through the tents entrance, skidding to an immediate halt.

Gildris and Vissa both stood by the panting filly, who was breathing heavily, groaning in pain with the occasional scream.

"It's time!" Gildris called to me frantically.

"She asked for you, Riddaris." Vissa stated.

An unusual request, as often times, birthing centaurs wanted males far from their tents. But then again, this entire situation was not normal.

"How is she?" I asked, moving to my sister.

"She's in pain." Gildris replied.

"Elska!" I called to her in my best attempt at a soothing voice, taking her face gently in both my hands.

"Look at me. Breath. Gildris and Vissa have done this many times before. You are in good hands." I comforted.

"R-Riddaris! I-I'm scared!" she wept through the screams.

"Shhh." I soothed, brushing her sweat soaked hair from her face. "It will be okay."

Tears of pain and fear were rolling down her cheeks as I held her head against my chest.

What horrors had she witnessed in those dungeons? Why had she been chosen by the fates to suffer so?

Never had I felt such a hatred for any as I felt for Manir. I wished for nothing more than to completely remove every trace of them from the face of Ryze.

"Here it comes." Gildris said near my sisters' rear, preparing to deliver whatever monstrosity my sister carried.

With a final reassuring coax from Vissa, Elska gave another mighty push, and the child fell free of it's mother.

At first, all I saw was a mass of black fur coated in thick birthing fluids before Gildris moved it away to be cleaned up.

"You did well." I told Elska, watching Vissa and Gildris who set to work cleaning the infant.

"What is it?" Elska asked, a minor sense of relief seemingly washing over her, now that the ordeal was over.

"It's...It's a boy." Gildris replied, carrying the child to us once her work had been finished.

The black mass came into view, and I could clearly see a feline tail.

The aging centaur woman placed the child, almost too large for my sister to hold comfortably, into the new mothers' arms.

I examined the infant with my sister, taking in every single feature of my new nephew.

It was appeared to be a panther, as black as midnight.

Its face was entirely feline, though its head sat on a humanoid torso, which disappeared into the body of what appeared to be a giant jungle cat. A quadrupedal panther-like centaur beast.

I glanced up at Vissa, who watched with discomfort and concern on her face.

My eyes fell to my sister, who perhaps held the first grin, if ever so slightly, on her face since her return from Manir.

"Riddaris." Vissa said, nodding toward the entrance to the tent.

I moved to follow, exiting into the encampment.

"Even with Hestross and your accounts, even with the reports coming in from our scouts, I could have never imagined they could be true." She whispered, more to herself than to me.

"It is indeed true. The sins of Manir are great." I replied, feeling the hatred building in me. What had it been? A mere beast ravaged my sister?

"I can sense your rage. In normal times, I would say you must control such emotions, for they may lead to our downfall. But these are not normal times." She said.

"What is that child, Vissa?" I asked.

"As far as I can decipher, a true hybrid of a centaur and one of the shadow cats from a distant land. Natural beasts that stalk in jungles and forests far from this island."

I opened my mouth to speak, but found no words.

"A difficult choice must be made, Riddaris. About the child's fate." She stated.

"I fear I am not the one to make such a choice." I told her.

"Your sister has the final say, though she must be made aware of all the consequences."

I nodded.

"We have no way of knowing if the child retains its beasts mind, or thinks and behaves like a centaur. It may very well be both, which contains many dangers on its own. It may not be able to fight instinct, see a member of the herd as prey. They are predators after all, and feed on the long distant cousins to our kind."

"What if it is truly a monster, and my sister refuses to see it?" I asked, remembering the smile on the new mothers face as she stared down into the face of her newborn.

"Let us consider that if it comes to pass. At this moment, I am more concerned about the child. Even if it retains a full functioning mind, it will always be treated as an outsider. Such is the way for those who are different. I fear such a life will lead the poor child to madness."

I nodded again. I had already met similar hybrid creatures whom seemed coherent or conscious enough, though their upbringing as a specialized slave assassin by the court of Manir left a strange impact. Would a life of social isolation be any different?

Vissa returned to the tent, and I moved to follow.

Elska looked up as we entered, eyes catching mine. Her smile was relieving. I had almost forgotten her smile.

"Riddaris," she said, cradling the infant to her chest, "His name is Cerid."

Camden O'Connor

"Well, M'lady, it certainly is impressive." I commented, sliding of the large cats back.

Impressive was a bit of an understatement. We had finally arrived at the ancient stone circle which had served as our destination for weeks now.

Gazing up at the massive network of branches that served as a surprisingly effective shelter, I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size of the tree.

The large canopy of branches belonged to a massive oak, more ancient than any tree I had ever seen. Its bark was heavily scarred with an old runic alphabet.

Surrounding the tree was a circle of huge stone monoliths, each decorated with similar runic carvings, as well as swirls and stylized animals.

The tree itself seemed to be growing from a shallow mountain stream that snaked its way through the ancient circle of stone, somehow oblivious to the arctic colds that froze many other shallow, slow streams. At its base, the water mellowed into a crystal clear pool.

Aklys approached the massive tree, eyes scanning the runes on its bark. She didn't seem phased by the chill of the water as she strode forth.

It was then that I noticed the simple wooden and leather amulet draped about her neck, runes matching the stones and the tree, started to glow a silvery-green.

The amulet had been a gift, she told me, from the elves as she set out from Rainhaven to rescue me from Manir.

It was an Oakstone, she told me. I had thought the name odd, as there was no earthen component to the item as far as I could tell.

She had explained it was an amulet designed to be used by Naettura by the first druids, who worshipped the nature spirits like gods.

These items were said to serve as a focus for a Naettura's powers, attuning them to the world, and allowing them to better bond their spiritual nature to that of the physical world.

I was somewhat skeptical of such claims. Not because of the mystical nature of them, but because I had known Aklys well before she had this amulet, and in that time, she had never seemed "out of tune" with the world.

"Aklys?" I asked, watching the leopardess. Her glowing eyes now matched the amulet, as well as the runic carvings on the tree.

Silvery-green light seemed to be radiating outwards, until every monolith in the circle hummed with it's energy.

It was then that I noticed the wind, which had been gusting fiercely most our journey, including when we entered the circle grove, had completely dissipated, as well as the frozen arctic chill with it.

I almost felt a soothing warmth come about me, as if I now sat beside a comforting fire.

I inhaled deeply, feeling the clean refreshing quality to the air. The weariness of the road washed away all at once, and a sense of peace settled about the circle.

It was then that I realized I was sitting on a boulder, overcome with an intense feeling of comfort. A large smile was planted on my face, my mouth slightly agape, as I gazed about the beautiful clearing. It was as if pure moonlight was flooding us, casting us in brilliance.

The Circle is a place of peace. The cat's voice echoed in my mind through fog.

"That was some of the most beautiful magic I have ever seen."

Typically, with arcane magic, that which I was versed in, spells were cast with efficiency and potency in mind. Corners would be cut were they could, and there always seemed to be a trade-off--that is, power vs. efficiency.

This, though, this was different. No clear outcome could be seen, but I sensed a difference about us. A sense of power, sure, but all of that power, it was a wild thing, comforting, yet frightening. And in the uncertainty of it, there was a rhythm one could sense, a heartbeat.

I could smell the moist earth beneath the light dusting of snow. The fresh crisp water that ran about the moss covered oaken roots, frosted but living. I could hear the gentle breeze as it gently danced about us, caressing my face with a pleasant touch.

And I could smell the scent of Aklys. At least, it was a scent I associated with the Naettura. It was an aroma of earth and spring flowers. Of fall leaves. The wonderful musk of the cat, and of the forest, the mountains. The world.

It was the scent of nature, wild and sexual, honest and free.

I was laying back now on the large boulder, basking in the feeling of pure joy that washed over me like the feeling of a warm spring sun after a harsh, dark winter.

Camden? Her voice drifted once again through that thick fog.

"Hm?" I asked.

What's wrong? She asked, amusement in her voice.

A different voice found its way into my head, one that echoed a power and wisdom I had never known.

The halfling has never heard the world's voice.

This new voice was masculine, speaking in my head the same way that Aklys did. I sat up calmly, turning to see the newcomer.

A magnificent pure white stag stood at the edge of a circle, its antlers intricate and branching like the limbs of a tree.

Varadyr. Aklys said, turning to the stag

The stag gave a slight nod.

Aklys. It has been a long time.

The beast had no pupils that I could tell, and at first I believed him to be blind, but he seemed to have no issues determining who he spoke to.

Too long, friend. Aklys replied.

You have faced the great darkness of Malmyrkris? He stated as much as asked.

You have seen it? She replied.

He considered her for a moment, before slowly approaching the center of the grove, near her place in the pool at the base of the tree.

The Waters of Sight are shrouded. I can only see those that remain...and sense the emptiness of those who do not.

I was completely lost. I assumed this was another Naettura, which, being that Aklys was the only living one I'd ever met, left me speechless. Beyond that, their words were cryptic. In fact, I assumed the only reason they allowed me to eavesdrop on this conversation was because this Varadyr knew I did not fully comprehend.

We have come to learn of the seals, Varadyr. Aklys stated.

I had grown complacent. I didn't notice the loss of Grandir. By the time I sensed it, it was too late. I have been cut off, bound here. My words cannot travel beyond the woods.

He stepped forward, into the water, and I noticed it did not react to his touch. It passed through him as if he were hollow, spectral.

Aklys noticed this as well, because her eyes widened.

You have lost your physical form? Aklys asked in shock.

The large spectral stag nodded.

"Does that mean, you're...dead?" I asked.

It means my physical form has been slain. Instead of returning to the heart of the world, I am bound by duty to watch over this circle, and the world. The stag replied.

Are all the seals sundered? Is it too late? Aklys asked.

Varadyr turned his gaze back to her.

Three seals have been broken. Only four remain, as do their guardians. A great darkness resides now where the shattered seals once where.

Darkness? Is it a gateway? She demanded, panic coming to her tone.

It is hidden from me. Only emptiness I see when I look into the water.

The stag nodded to the pool the cat stood in.

She gazed down peering into its depths. Her eyes began to glow, as did her amulet once again.

All at once, it seemed the air was ripped from her lungs forcibly, and she slammed violently down with a splash.

"Aklys!" I cried, leaping form the boulder and rushing to the cat's side.

This proved more difficult than I thought, since the water was much deeper than it appeared.

I'm alright, Camden.

I glanced at the stag.

"What happened?" I demanded, question directed at either of them.

Nothing. I saw nothing. A void, as black as the shadowlands. The cat stated, as much to me as to Varadyr.

You are weak? Your spirit diminishes? Varadyr asked, concern coming to his face.

"Diminishes?" I asked snapping my attention back to the cat. "Aklys, what does he mean?"

She is dying, small one. Slowly, but it is inevitable.

His words seemed to blast all of the air from my own lungs, and I just stumbled backwards, as if I had been struck with a war maul.

"D-Dying?" I repeated.

_Camden..._Aklys said, rising to her feet.

"No, I want answers." I demanded, harsher than I intended.

I winced at my own words.

Malmyrkris seeks to destroy all opposition before his arrival. He began by systematically annihilating the Naettura from the shadows. Varadyr stated.

"He is to blame?!" I demanded.

There was a painful knot in my chest, forcing me to tremble. All of the peace that had filled the glade moments before seemed to instantly disappear.

_Camden. Calm down._Aklys voice cut through my mind.

It was then that I realized fire was slowly spreading up from my hands and burning away the sleeves of my elvish robes.

I exhaled, plunging my arms into the water about me, panting with anger and exertion.

"What can be done?" I demanded.

The power of this circle can help refresh Aklys. But she must remain here to mend.

"Done. We will stay as long as it takes." I stated.

Camden. The guardians must be warned. If the seals are being broken, it means they are in danger. Aklys stated.

They have been. Varadyr stated.

"But you said you cannot travel beyond this forest. How?" I asked.

A spirit found me. She is not of the Naettura. She has been my eyes and my voice where I can no longer travel. And where I could never travel before. She is perhaps our only hope now, for she has ventured to the shadowlands, and witnessed the true danger the Lord of Darkness poses.

This spirit, she warned the remaining guardians? Aklys asked.

Indeed. She has been invaluable. I would have sought you out, Aklys, but I could no longer sense you. Nor any of the wandering Naettura. She has been trying to gather them. Those that remain.

"There are more?" I asked.

Not many. But there are some. Those she finds are being asked to travel to the remaining seals.

What seals remain intact? Aklys asked.

Lostwatch, Rainhaven, Duskshire, and this one. Varadyr replied.

"Rainhaven? Duskshire?" I asked. "There are seals there?"

_The ancestors to the humans and elves who founded them were allies to the Naettura. Those that dwell there now have forgotten of their existence. _The spectral stag replied.

"That means a Naettura is in Rainhaven?" I asked. "And Duskshire?"

Yes. Perhaps more than one, if what you say is true. The Council of Seasons can help, Varadyr. They must be informed. Aklys said.

"If the seals are being targeted, then those cities are in danger!" I agreed. I would likely still be trapped in the dungeons of Manir if it weren't for the elves. We couldn't sit by and do nothing.

When the wolf returns, I shall ask her to go immediately. Varadyr said.

Another unsettling thought crossed my mind.

"Aklys. You asked the elf, Ivaylis to travel to Old Manir to investigate the seal?" I asked.

Her eyes widened in response.

That seal is broken. I may have sent her to her doom!

Vailadriel

Even the forests surrounding Rainhaven seemed tame compared to those of Avaltiss. The heavy winter snows had seemingly drowned the entire canopy with a blanket of white, and yet, almost none of it seemed capable of penetrating to the forest floor.

Indeed, a fine layer of frost had accumulated, but little else, casting the forest into a darkness one would almost expect to find in the depths of a cave.

Skempta seemed unconcerned by it, however, as her vision in such darkness seemed superior to mine.

The fey-orc pressed forward, a small limp barely noticeable in her walk. Most of the cuts and bruising had disappeared, and she seemed well on the mend.

Her mood had also seemed to improve somewhat since we had left Rainhaven far behind, though she kept a wary eye on the roads behind us.

Afraid my family would come after us, she insisted I use magic to wipe all evidence of our passing from the snow.

That seemed to calm her considerably, and so she just pressed onwards. Days passed, and we now found ourselves in the shadowy confines of the Avaltiss Reach.

"How much further?" I asked from behind the orc, who was ducking low so that her antlers could clear a low hanging branch.

"Not much." She replied vaguely.

Was this nothing more than a hopeless excursion into a land of witchcraft and fey?

I had asked myself that very question many times this journey. Each time I would, I would reach down to my wrist and grasp the massive ring that fit around my wrist like a braclet.

That was all the reassurance I needed.

I gazed down at the silver piece of jewelry about my wrist. The very same ring I had made for Rekkdyr.

No, I was doing something. Action was better than inaction, no matter how slight the chances.

I pushed the thoughts of despair from my mind once again. I tried to ignore the nagging voice that told me that even if he had survived his initial days in the shadowlands, every moment there is like an eternity in our world.

I shook my head.

"You need to relax, Princess. You're just going to drive yourself to an early grave." Skempta stated for perhaps the hundredth time.

I shook my head.

"I cannot. Not while Rekkdyr may be alive."

I heard a small chuckle under the orcs breath. It was without humor, however.

"Nor can I." she replied quietly.

A noise sounded from somewhere behind me. I whipped around just as a blur of silver dashed between the trees.

"What was that?!" I asked, startled.

"What? I didn't see anything."

"Look, there!" I said, pointing at another blur through some undergrowth.

"There's nothing, elf. Not even tracks." The orc stated. "This is the reach. Fey call these lands home. It may just be some wisps, or perhaps a phooka playing a prank." She explained.

With a lingering look, I slowly began to follow her again.

"Phooka?" I asked, following behind her.

"A fey shapeshifter. Like their practical jokes." She explained.

"You grew up here?" I asked.

"Aye, a bit further to the east. My mother was sold off to my father by the clan before I was born. The way she speaks, though, sounds like she got the good end of the deal." Skempta replied.

"What was your father?" I asked, realizing only afterwards that that sounded rude.

The orc chuckled.

"A fey huntsman named Oddvar." She replied.

"Oddvar? Why does that name sound familiar?"

"Humans believe he used to lead hunts through the Sutvalds, raiding settlements for their woman, and adding those touched by the fey to his hunt." She replied. "Never have gotten him to tell me if it's true or not."

"Wait, your father is the leader of the Wild Hunt!" I asked, stopping in my tracks.

"Allegedly!" she laughed, turning to me. "You can ask him yourself, he's who we are going to meet."

Meeting with the Leader of the Wild Hunt, if the legends had any basis in reality, was not something I wanted to do.

"It's just, I've read some accounts..." I started.

"Of how he ravages the women he takes on his hunts, turns them into brides so that he may give birth to a new generation of huntsmen?" the orc interrupted.

"Y-yes?"

"Well, as I said, I've never seen any of it in my time, and my mother seems to be a fairly preferred bride, as I've never seen any other hordes of women about clamoring for the title. Though, now that you mention it, I should warn you. The fey are a rather...Promiscuous group."

"Promiscuous?" I asked.

"They like to fuck a lot." The crude orc replied.

"I know what it means!" I snapped.

She put her hands up in mocking defense.

"Hey, sorry, you did ask." She turned to continue onward.

"Just don't be surprised if we encounter a horny satyr who tries to seduce you with those big goat testicles of his." She chuckled.

I had slowly been getting over how crude the orc could be, though with some difficulty.

"He would be out of luck." I stated.

"Ah, because your saving yourself for the gnoll?" Skempta asked, a slight tone of sarcasm in her words.

"Is that so wrong? Holding out hope that the gnoll lives?" I snapped.

The orc halted again.

"Look, princess. We wouldn't be here if I didn't have hope the gnoll was alive. He's one tough bastard, and I mean that endearingly. But, even if he were to return without emotional scarring from who knows what torments he endures, do you really think he will just rush in and sink that cock of his between your legs? No, he has that whole 'Honor code' thing."

She turned to continue once again.

I felt tears forming in my eyes. I could handle the orcs crude nature. If everything I'd heard about the fey were true, she was brought up in a world not all that concerned with proper appearances.

No, it was the way she seemed to joke about the gnoll, almost carelessly.

"Ah, fuck, listen, elf, I'm sorry, alright?" she said turning when I didn't respond.

"I can see that you care about the gnoll, and from what I knew of him, he cared deeply for you. All I was trying to do was get you to loosen up a bit, y'know?" she continued.

"It may not be a bad idea to cut loose a bit, relieve stress? By the gods, you deserve it. You've had no small share of sorrow in your life." She said, continuing on her way.

I moved to follow, cathing another sight of a blur of silver.

"My people take physical commitments very seriously." I told her.

"Perhaps. But could you really have a physical relationship then, in the context of your own kind?" she asked.

"I mean, it's easy for me to say, being an outsider, and an orc, no less, but sometimes the so called 'civilized' races may be a little too, well, imprisoned by their own rules."

"Is it not rules that have allowed the elves to prosper, though?" I asked defensively.

The orc snorted.

"And yet, they have somehow dwindled in recent decades. Or Centuries. You and your long-lived folk, I never remember how it works. Besides, I'm trying to offer you a world where you can be with your precious gnoll, and nobody would give a fuck."

"No, you're trying to get me to indiscriminately sleep with anything that comes my way. To 'relieve stress.'" I accused.

She laughed. "I think there may be some hope for you, after all, Fairy."

Just then, a lone figure came into view ahead. I could barely see past the massive orc in front of me, but I could see it was a large humanoid, though seemed to have massive antlers sprouting from its head, much like Skempta's.

"Eika was right. My daughter has returned to her homeland." The man spoke, not bothering to move from where he stood.

"Father." Skempta addressed him with a slight bow.

I moved around to get a better look at Oddvar, the Leader of the Wild Hunt.