Shattered Isles Chapter 0: Meeting like this...

[Dragon]

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As Luna, the celestial sovereign, garbed in a silver luminescence, claimed the vault of the evening sky, her resplendent illumination graced the tranquil expanse of Noldorin. Her beam, gentle yet authoritative, cast a ballet of contrasting shadows beneath the forest's cryptic emerald canopy, engaging in an ethereal dance with the enigmas that lay hidden within.

The onset of twilight had drawn a blanket of profound silence over the landscape, intermittently perforated by the solitary cries of twilight-loving creatures. The kingdom of flora, standing as silent sentinels, was privy to this serene spectacle, their outlines stretching and pirouetting in the lunar glow, meticulously weaving an intricate tapestry of light and shadow upon the undulating woodland carpet.

A quaint, winding path, carved by the perennial passage of rustic carts and the rhythmic cadence of equine strides, meandered through this halcyon panorama, its rugged surface glinting subtly under the sympathetic lunar luminescence. The encroaching foliage, luxuriant in its verdant splendor, bent inward with an air of inquisitiveness and protective duty, their leaves reflecting the moon's glow as they danced gently in tandem with the refreshing sea breeze rolling in from the proximate coastline.

Nearby, the babbling brook lent a voice to the tranquility, whispering harmonious tales to anyone patient enough to listen, amplifying the aura of peace blanketing the scene. At a distance, the relentless ocean performed a celestial serenade, its cadenced waves orchestrating a symphony that spoke of adventures far beyond the discernible horizon.

Dominating the scene were towering trees of magnificent stature, their longevity dwarfing the nascent settlements they dutifully shielded. Each rustle of their aged leaves was a secret shared, stories of antiquity carried upon the wings of the breeze. Their time-etched trunks bore scars and marks of bygone epochs, standing testament to the myriad histories they had silently observed.

However, beneath the veneer of serenity, the atmosphere was charged with a subtle undercurrent of expectancy, a sense that the forest was collectively drawing its breath in anticipation of unknown events. Despite the mildness of the night, the air pulsed with a palpable apprehension, heralding the cusp of a decisive juncture in the storied chronicle of Vitka.

The once serene woodland was abruptly shaken by an alien sensation—an impending storm of energy foreign to its bounds. Similar to the subtle shudder that preludes an earthquake, the pervasive, underlying tension within the landscape escalated suddenly.

Peace was fractured as powerful yet unyielding vibrations echoed through the environment. An inexplicable low, rhythmic hum saturated the air, springing from no evident origin yet seeping into every cranny. The tremors permeated the terrain, dislodging a shower of leaves from the lofty trees and hurling pebbles across the path.

Alert to the unfolding supernatural event, the local fauna erupted into movement. The nocturnal serenade of the forest stilled, supplanted by the frantic stirrings of unsettled vegetation. From the smallest bug to the mightiest predator, a wave of unease overwhelmed the woodland creatures, spurring them into retreat and leaving behind an unnerving silence.

The atmosphere itself appeared to shudder, and then, sparks began their ballet. Filaments of energy birthed from nothingness crackled and slithered through the air like glowing serpents. They flickered and spun, inscribing luminescent trails against the obsidian sky, an enchanting yet terrifying spectacle.

Suddenly, in the midst of the deserted pathway, the fabric of reality warped. A fissure rent through the essence of the world, the boundary between dimensions splitting to form a rift. It was like a wound inflicted upon the earth, a yawning void rimmed with fluctuating, indescribable hues foreign to human vision.

The rift stood defiant on the pathway, a vortex of pulsating light and chaos, stark against the surrounding tranquil forest. It was a doorway, an interdimensional breach rebelling against the laws of this realm, presenting a passage to the enigmatic beyond.

As the rift found stability, the vibrations dwindled, leaving behind a foreboding quietude. The forest collectively held its breath in anticipation, waiting for the next sequence in this grand display.

From the roiling, iridescent turmoil of the inter-dimensional breach—an exquisite maelstrom of swirling pandemonium and variegated hues—an apparitional pair of equine figures began their manifestation, their ghostly faces surfacing as though born from the very fabric of surrealism itself. Their phantasmal forms wavered inconsistently, akin to the last gasps of embers in a twilight hearth, their fluctuating glow casting an eerily enthralling diorama against the tapestry of this uncharted astral dimension.

These were no ordinary steeds, confined to the commonplace reins of earthly existence; these were spectral couriers, bridging the unfathomable abyss between invisible, untouched dimensions, their otherworldly profiles reflecting an ethereal beauty rarely witnessed by mortal vision. They were luminous constructs of pale, silvery light and intangible substance, each reflecting the other's spectral luminescence with an almost sacred synchronicity far surpassing human comprehension.

The numinous entities were charged with the unceasing pull of an earthly carriage—a tangible, well-worn relic—that followed in their spectral wake. Crafted from robust, weather-beaten timber, the carriage bore the scars of countless journeys. Its wooden beams, groaning with the weight of untold tales, were seasoned by the elements, each scratch and chip told of its enduring service in traversing manifold landscapes.

As the spectral stallions navigated the unblemished path of this foreign expanse, an unusual symphony—reminiscent of ancient scrolls rustling in a gentle breeze—permeated the atmosphere. Indeed, where the hooves of their tangible kin might have kicked up dirt and gravel, these celestial beings seemed to gently kiss the very soul of the realm, the faintest murmur of their passage stirring echoes of long-lost tales into the ether.

Perched atop the ethereal chariot, silhouetted against the luminous backdrop of a moon-soaked evening—a painterly fusion of silver and ebony shades—were two unassuming figures of immeasurable majesty. The first, a nexus of ancient wisdom and raw power, was shrouded in undulating robes of the deepest obsidian—a living enigma spun from materials foreign to terrestrial craftsmanship. He personified serene dominance, the tranquil eye amidst the whirlwind of chaos enveloping them.

His head, a repository of clandestine knowledge and mystic might, was subtly inclined, emanating an aura of meditative tranquility. It was as if he partook in hushed conversations with a divine entity beyond the comprehension of lesser beings, his silent exchange punctuated by the symphony of the cosmos itself.

His arms rested in the sanctuary of his garment—a vast universe of stitched symbols and mystical motifs, each an homage to bygone epochs and untamed forces. These symbols, faintly perceptible beneath the layers of his attire, murmured quiet tales of the past, a complex lattice of hidden wisdom and forgotten lore.

Amid the arcane splendor surrounding them, the mage remained a beacon of stoic vigilance, his gaze piercing the cosmic veil as he navigated their journey through the misty expanse of the interdimensional corridor. With a charm both unseen and palpable, he had cast a spiritual bulwark to safeguard their vessel and its occupants from the lurking monstrosities that inhabited this liminal realm, unseen horrors that skulked this borderland betwixt the tangible and the ethereal. Yet, in the face of this daunting task, the mage held firm, his aura radiating a ceaseless serenity that mirrored the unchanging calm of the cosmos itself.

Adjacent to the mage, perched with the nimble grace of an arctic lynx, was an entity of no lesser enigma—a figure of the Drow Elf lineage. His midnight-toned dermis, reminiscent of the sable velvet of a moonless night, was set against the silver cascade of his hair—a spectral waterfall, luminescent under the celestial glow. His sanguine ocular orbs burned with a hypnotic intensity, their blazing contrast to his sorcerous companion creating an image of stark, yet harmonious, juxtaposition.

This Drow's penetrating gaze flickered with an almost predatory acumen, alternating its focus between the stoic magi and the encroaching wilderness—an eternal tableau of verdant mystery and looming silence—that surrounded them. The secrets of the shadow-shrouded forest were laid bare under his perusal, each hidden narrative and cryptic whisper unraveled beneath his unyielding scrutiny.

Within his nimble digits—a study in elegance and lethal precision—he cradled a whetstone, methodically honing the edge of a dagger that exuded a cruel beauty, as mesmerizing as it was disconcerting. This tool of death, its surface kissed by lunar rays, gleamed with an ethereal light, its deadly allure a silent testament to the countless lives it must have silenced.

His every motion echoed an unseen rhythm—an uncanny nocturne, whose melody was weaved from the threads of shadow and silence, a song known only to those who danced with Death herself. Each stroke of the whetstone, each shift of his gaze, played into this spectral symphony, his movements a choreography of calculated precision, as captivating as it was unnerving, adding an additional layer of mystery to the grand tapestry of their otherworldly journey.

With the abruptness of a lightning bolt severing the serenity of a stormy night, the Drow's sonorous timbre punctuated the crystalline silence, melding seamlessly with the crisp nocturnal air. His voice, smooth yet assertive, possessed the same lethal elegance as the blade he meticulously tended—a cold whisper slicing through the ether, yet reverberating with an undercurrent of concern.

"How fare thee, Seer?" he posed his query, his syllables intertwining with the symphony of their spectral surroundings. His query was not devoid of perceptivity; he was acutely attuned to the cruel toll arcane practices could exact from their devotees, a reality his keen scarlet eyes would have scrutinized in the somber, tranquil countenance of the magi.

His words hung suspended in the interdimensional air—an uncanny mixture of concern, respect, and anticipatory silence—awaiting the mage's response as the cosmic winds continued its dance around them, each element of their journey reflecting a fragment of the enigmatic puzzle they were yet to decipher.

Breaking free from the soothing clutches of his meditative isolation, the mage—this embodiment of arcane enigma—lifted his head, revealing to the moon-drenched ether, a pair of ocular orbs as liquidly silver as the gleam of Luna herself. They shimmered with an inner radiance, the spectral glow hinting at the formidable reserves of cosmic energy he had subjugated within the crucible of his psyche.

"I find myself in good stead, Rael," he declared, his voice a calm, languid torrent winding its way through the stillness of their surroundings, akin to a gentle zephyr that rustles through a slumbering forest. It echoed softly, an ethereal melody woven from tranquility and serenity, yet there was an unmistakable hint of tension—a spectral thread of unease—that wove itself into the fabric of his spoken reassurance.

"The most arduous part of our journey," he continued, each word measured, yet flowing with a natural grace, "now lies consigned to the echoes of our past." His proclamation hung in the air, a delicate balance of relief and foreboding, its implications reverberating through the otherworldly landscape that bore witness to their extraordinary voyage. Yet, despite the soothing resonance of his declaration, the undercurrent of tension remained—a ghostly specter of uncertainties yet to unfold.

At the mage's words, the Drow released a subtle chuckle—a fleeting specter of amusement that resonated briefly in the otherwise stolid silence. His sanguine eyes sparked momentarily with a sardonic humor, the ruby facets dancing with an uncanny fire that seemed almost at odds with the spectral tranquility of their voyage.

"I find such assurances hard to believe," he riposted, his voice a symphony of dry wit and subtle defiance. With an expert final glide of the whetstone along the deadly length of his blade—a final caress that sang a lullaby of imminent danger—the weapon disappeared into the welcoming shadows of a concealed sheath, a final flourish to their deadly dance. Leaning back, the Drow resumed his silent vigil, his keen gaze resuming its relentless scrutiny of their path—a tapestry of shadow and mystery that stretched into the embrace of the unknown.

As the spectral chargers maintained their ghostly advance, the age-worn carriage—an unassuming vehicle spun from the yarns of enigma—continued its moonlit voyage, carving a determined path through the mantle of the night. Their destination, a cloistered secret swathed in layers of enigma and anticipation, was an illustrious locale whispered of in tales and legends—the Dragon's Den.

In a past expedition the mage found himself engaged in a coiled ballet of diplomacy with the den's custodian, a character of significant sway within their eccentric fellowship. Their discourse unfolded under the vast cosmic expanse, their uttered phrases sculpting trajectories of destinies yet to unfurl.

Following a period of profound reflection, a rhythmic choreography of negotiation resonating with the inherent equilibrium of lucrative gains, they attained mutual comprehension. An agreement had been forged, a pact that augured prosperity for all involved parties. Thus, under the celestial canopy of the night, illuminated by the ethereal luminescence of the starry night sky, their journey persisted, pressing forth towards the realization of a treaty birthed from the desire for greater and grander pastures.

 

[Script]

The clear blue waters of Haven Bay shimmered with the reflection of the afternoon sun high overhead, shining bright from a cloudless sky and casting refractive sparkles in every spray kicked up by the sea’s rolling waves. The air was tranquil, if far from quiet, an ever-present chorus of gull cries forming a familiar backdrop to the creaking of the Lazy Fisher’s deck and the crash of the waters against its hull.

The spray of a more sizeable wave breaking against the ship’s prow rose high enough to rain down upon Kalei where he leaned off of the deck’s handrail, hanging low over the water in a way sure to have any responsible sailor shaking their head disapprovingly, but the gentle shower of water was nothing but a refreshing sprinkling of cool to offset the summer heat beating down from above.

“I’ll never wrap my head around why you can’t just stand on the deck like a sane man, lad,” Captain Prior called to him from the till as Kalei shook his hair off, scattering droplets of water from the fan of damp gold tresses. “One of these days your grip’s going to fail you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Captain Prior,” Kalei called back, flashing a smile over his shoulder. “Even if that did happen, there's no harm in a little dip in the bay, is there?”

The older man just shook his head and chuckled, murmuring something about ‘young folk’ that Kalei didn’t quite catch over the wind. Turning back to face ahead, he let his hand that wasn’t gripping the ship’s rail stretch down to brush his fingertips over the water’s surface. Ahead, the bustling docks of Cirdan’s Haven were drawing quickly closer.

The town was nestled in the coastline, rising from the water’s edge over several tiered districts all the way up to the heights of the cliffs that framed it. The faded pastel facades and terracotta roofs of the town’s buildings painted a delightful vista of colour into the cliffside, all arches and curving stonework. It might not have held a candle to the decorative frescoes, pristine white stonework and elaborate water features of his home, but it had its own charming beauty all the same.

As the Fisher drew into port, Kalei hopped deftly from his perch on the ship’s side onto the old pier, catching the tethering rope that Captain Prior threw his way and fluidly weaving it around one of the pilings to tie it tight. On the far side of the wooden walkway, Mrs. Marquella - an older woman with her hair pulled up in a loose bun - was seated on the deck of another vessel, where she was sorting through the last of a crate of debris from the seafloor, dividing it between the unremarkable on one hand, and a rainbow of colourful shells of all shapes and sizes on the other.

“Good fishing today, boys?” she asked, looking up from her work to greet them with a smile.

“As always, Mrs. Marquella!” Kalei replied cheerfully, hopping back up onto the Lazy Fisher to help Captain Prior hook the net containing their haul onto the ship’s crane and pulley, so that it could be unloaded onto the waiting cart. “How about you?”

“Oh, yes, Tielo brought in his crab traps today, and they had quite the haul. We’ll be having good eating tonight, between him and you two, I expect.” she answered warmly. “And I’ve found some real beauties myself this afternoon,” she added, tapping the box of shells to her side with satisfaction. “I think they’ll make for some wonderful pieces. I might even add one to my outfit later, if I have time.”

“That’s great! Oh, I picked you out some from our nets as well, here!” Flitting over from where he’d been helping guide the net, Kalei ducked past an impatient Captain Prior with an apologetic little smile in order to pluck a smaller box from the deck, filled with a smattering of similarly pretty shells. Mrs. Marquella was a jewellery maker, who worked with shells collected either on her beach walks, or in amidst the debris that came up with the fishing nets. Her craft was humble by the standards of the great artisans in his homeland, but none the less worthwhile for it. Kalei was wearing a pair of her shell bracelets himself, and there weren’t very many people in town who couldn’t claim to own at least one of her works.

“Oh, you are a sweet boy, Lei,” the older woman cooed. “Thank you ever so much.”

“It’s no trouble, Mrs. Marquella!” He reassured her, darting across to deliver the box of shells to her with a smile before hurrying back over to finish helping the captain with their fish. “It’s more than worth it to see more of your jewellery, after all.”

“Could you focus for one moment, lad?” Captain Prior interjected with an amused sigh, waving his attention back to helping him lower the netful of fish onto the cart. As they did so, the pier groaned loudly under the weight, and Kalei felt it sway ever so slightly beneath him. “Steady, now!” Captain Prior cautioned. “Darn old pier, I’ve been telling Gomez it needs fixing up going on a week now, ever since Colin’s son ran his ship up into it…” He grumbled and sighed. “I’ll have to nudge the Fisher over to the next one, and I’d suggest you do the same, Liselle.”

“Oh, don’t worry, dear,” Mrs. Marquella gave him a shake of her head. “We’re just stopped here while Tielo makes his delivery. We’ll be heading back across to our little dock at home soon enough.”

“Would you like me to help, Captain?” Kalei asked. “I can take the catch up to the fishery while you redock?”

“No no, lad, you’ve helped me out plenty already,” Captain Prior replied with a wave of his hand. “I can take things from here. Arlo from the fishery’s coming down to collect the cart, in any case, and you have to leave me some of the work to do, or I’ll feel I’ve not put in my fair share!” He chuckled. “You go on back into town, I’m sure Nolani could use your help up at the inn more than I need it here. Oh, and tell her I’ll bring up the best of the catch for her when I come home.”

Kalei beamed, and dipped his head in a bow. “Yes, sir! I mean, captain! I’ll see you later, then!”

He was already halfway up the dockside before Captain Prior had a chance to reply, giving him a quick wave over his shoulder and setting off at a jog onto the busy waterfront. The hot afternoon sun kissed his skin as he went, quickly drying the lingering damp of the fishing trip away, and the stone street was pleasantly warm beneath his feet. He gave each dockworker and fisherman he passed a smile and a wave of greeting that they returned in kind, a chorus of friendly acknowledgements following in his wake. If there was one thing that Cirdan’s Haven had that larger cities lacked, it was its sense of community. Even as a sizeable port town, it wasn’t quite so big that it had lost that feeling that most everyone there knew everyone else.

Of course, despite being relatively new in town, he supposed that more people probably knew him than most. It had been a few weeks since he’d saved the baron’s daughter from the band of pirates that had been harassing the town’s merchants and fisherfolk for going on a year, and brought the whole merry band in to the authorities in the process, and it seemed like everyone in town knew about it. He stood out enough to be easy to recognise, too – he’d picked up a few outfits in the local style, but still preferred to wear the ones he’d brought with him more often than not, and both in their bright colours and loose-fitting, little-covering style, they didn’t exactly blend in by any measure.

“Kalei, dear!” A woman’s voice called down to him from atop one of the buildings he was passing. He glanced up to see one of the local carpenters, Bernadette, working on the rooftop and flashed her a smile.

“Afternoon, Miss Bernadette!”

“I’m sorry to trouble you, but I’ve only gone and dropped my hammer off the edge here– you wouldn’t mind getting it back up here to save me clambering all the way down, would you?” She sighed, gesturing down to the base of the house, where spotting the fallen hammer was easy enough.

“Sure thing, can-do!” Kalei swerved off of the street to pluck the hammer up, then - with it in hand - took a short run up on the wall in order to vault up it, rebounding a couple of times between it and the next building in order to deftly reach the rooftop’s edge and hand Bernadette back her hammer. “Here you are!”

She covered her mouth with a laugh. “I’ll never get tired of watching your acrobatics. Thank you, Kalei, you’re a good sort.”

“I’m just happy to help, it’s no trouble,” he answered, flashing her another grin before hopping back down to the street below, landing lightly in a crouch and setting forth further into town. He hadn’t been walking for more than another couple of minutes before he heard his name being called once again - this time by a small chorus of voices.

“Kalei! Kalei!”

A gaggle of a half dozen kids and young teens came barrelling down the sloping street toward him, hardly giving him a chance to wave and greet them back before they’d swarmed around him.

“Can you show us the water trick again?”

“No, I wanna see you jump up a building!”

“You should show us how you punched up those pirates instead!”

Kalei laughed, holding his hands up defensively. “Hey, hey, one at a time! I can’t do everything at once! Besides, I told you all before, watershaping isn’t something just to do magic tricks with…”

“Aw…” a disappointed chorus answered him, and he smirked.

“...but, I guess I can make one more exception, just for you guys.” He grinned, and while the kids let out a collection of celebratory whoops, he reached his hand down towards one of the waterskins at his hip, focusing a thread of power and drawing out the water within to swirl up through the air like a shimmering serpent.

With his audience enraptured, he threaded the trail of water through the air a few times, performing a few loops and tricks with it, before shooting it straight upwards to scatter like a geyser in the air, spreading apart into hovering droplets that each caught the light, making them appear like a shower of sparkles frozen in the air.

As the kids showed their appreciation with laughter and applause, he swirled the droplets back together and down into the waterskin again, just as a broad-shouldered woman emerged from one of the nearby houses with a basket of laundry.

“Are you kids pestering Kalei again?” she called out with an arched brow. “Be off with you, now! The young lord has things to do! Go on, git!”

With a mix of snickers and genuine reproach, the group of kids scurried away, leaving him with a barrage of farewells.

“Bye Kalei!”

“Show us how you fought the pirates later!”

“You should make it rain all over Mrs Anatola’s washing!”

He laughed and rubbed at the back of his head bashfully as they went. “I don’t mind them, Mrs Anatola, really. And, ah, I’m not any sort of Lord, really!”

“Lord or no, you shouldn’t be going around indulging them every time they ask you to, or they’ll start treating you like a performing sideshow act,” the gruff woman noted with a shake of her head. “Those littleuns are menaces.”

“Ah, well… I’ll keep that in mind,” Kalei answered with a sage nod. Mrs Anatola gave him a flat look that told him that she had her doubts he would, and… well, she wasn’t really wrong to. He didn’t see much issue with indulging the kids - it was fun! He ducked his head and, with an apologetic grin, continued on his way.

Before too long - but not before several more stops to exchange greetings with the locals - Kalei arrived back at the Lazy Fisher’s Rest, the sleepy small-town inn that he’d been calling home since he’d arrived in Cirdan’s Haven a month or so back. The stone walls were decorated with a faded-but-beautiful mosaic of flying fish leaping from the waves, and a well-tended garden stood out front, complete with a pair of tall olive trees that cast pleasant shade over an outdoor bench.

The front door was propped open, so he called out as he slipped through the thin curtain that covered the entryway. “I’m back, Nolani!”

The inside of the inn’s main room was small, barely more than a couple of tables set out to serve guests their meals and a short bar-counter that barely qualified as such that separated them from the doorway into the kitchen. He slipped through, following the enticing smell of spices and grilling vegetables to where his host was busy at work.

“Ah, Kalei, welcome back.” Nolani’s voice was deep and warm, matching her smile. Her dark hair, woven into twisted locs, was tied back with a red cord woven with a few polished shells - Mrs Marquella’s work, no doubt. “You had another good trip, I trust?”

Kalei nodded, drifting through to take a heavy box of potatoes out from her hands as she made to lift it over to the counter, grinning as she raised an amused eyebrow at him. “As always. Any trip out onto the sea’s a good trip, in weather like this.”

“You want to watch Edric doesn’t try to keep you, if you’re to keep acting as his lucky charm like this,” she noted with a chuckle, following him across the kitchen and waving for him to set the box down. “If you’re going to insist on helping, you can start peeling those. And watch that I don’t try to do the same thing.”

“Aye aye, ma’am,” Kalei gave her a quick salute and laughed. “You say that like I’m planning on leaving soon. I like it here!”

“Oh, I don’t think you’re planning on it, Lei,” Nolani flashed him a knowing smile. “I know your sort, though. You don’t plan anything. One day, you’ll get tired of having been in one place for too long, and the lure of the open road or the open sea will take you away just as it brought you here.”

“Ah…” Kalei ducked his head, looking down at the potatoes as he started to work at quickly taking their skins off with the small knife Nolani had set down for him. He couldn’t exactly argue with that. As much as he was happy here, he hadn’t left home to settle down somewhere else forever. He’d already stayed longer than he’d planned to, just because the people were so nice. “Maybe. But I really don’t think it’ll be that soon.”

“I suppose only time will tell that truth,” Nolani hummed thoughtfully, crossing the kitchen to tend to where a large panful of spiced onions and other vegetables were cooking over the fire. “We’ll all be sad to see you go, of course, but I’m sure I’m not the only one who knows we’re too small a town for someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” Kalei looked up, quirking an eyebrow her way. A slight uneasiness rolled in his stomach, but he ignored it.

“The kind of person who can take on a shipful of pirates alone and unarmed, make water dance in the air, and climb a sheer wall with his arms tied behind his back,” Nolani replied, returning his look as if to question whether it wasn’t obvious to him.

He flushed and let out an embarrassed laugh. “Ah, I don’t know… I don’t think things like that make me too important for anywhere, or anyone. Being able to do impressive things doesn’t make me better than anyone else, or too good for anyone.”

“Would that more people in the world who could do such things thought the way you do,” Nolani sighed, patting him on the arm as she slipped by him to start rolling out pastry on another countertop. “We would live in a better world. But no, I don’t mean that. I just mean that our town doesn’t need someone as capable as you. Having you is a blessing, of course. But you and I both know there are places that need heroes more than Cirdan’s Haven does.”

Kalei furrowed his brow, continuing to focus on the methodical peeling while he chewed on her words. People kept bandying about that word: hero. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the sound of it, not at all – it made his heart swell, and occasionally threatened to make his ego swell with it. But it also came with a whole lot of responsibilities. People looked to him to solve anything and everything, and while he liked helping them, he wasn’t sure about it being some kind of duty to do so.

But, then, didn’t he also believe that the strong had a duty to the weak regardless of title? It wasn’t so different, really, not at the end of the day.

“You’re probably right,” he admitted after a minute, smiling over at her and shrugging. “But we don’t need to think about that stuff right now! The festival’s later, that’s more important.”

“True enough,” Nolani huffed a laugh - her knowing look told him she was more than aware of his strategy of avoiding big decisions by finding anything else to talk about instead, but despite it, she conceded to go along with it. “Oh! Actually, that reminds me. A letter came for you while you were out.”

Kalei blinked, shooting her a confused look. “A letter?” It hardly made sense that anyone in town would write to him, given how easy it would be for them to walk up the hill to the Fisher’s Rest and find him. And as far as he knew, nobody else had any idea he was here to write to him.

“It was strange,” Nolani nodded, as if reading his thoughts. “I heard a horse and rider outside, and made up a cool drink to welcome them in. I waited a few minutes, and nothing– so I go to look, and nobody’s out there. Just the letter, left on the porch.”

“Whoa.” Kalei felt his eyes widen, unable to help the flicker of excitement at the idea of what mysteries might be behind the letter - although there was an edge of nervousness to that excitement. There weren’t a lot of people out there who would be looking for him, and he wasn’t thrilled at the idea that one of them might have found him. Hopefully that wasn’t what this was. “Where’s the letter?”

“I slid it under the door to your room,” Nolani answered. “You should go and take a look– ah, after you finish those potatoes, if you can. Mother below, I do appreciate the extra pair of hands to get everything ready in time. Did Edric say when he would be back?”

“Ah, no, sorry,” Kalei shook his head, turning his attention back to his work with greater vigor now that the mystery letter was waiting for him. “He was taking the catch over to the fishery, but he said he’d bring a big one up for you to cook.”

“He’d better bring it quickly, if he wants it cooked for tonight!” Nolani huffed a sigh. “And had better not get lost on the way and find his way into the tavern,” she added with a grumble. “There’ll be plenty enough to drink at the festival.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back as soon as he can!” Kalei protested, smiling. Captain Prior might have had a little weakness for drink, but it couldn’t compare to his weakness for his wife.

“Hmm,” Nolani hummed doubtfully, but the upturn to the corner of her mouth made it clear she didn’t truly expect her husband to dally overlong. Kalei was very fond of the relationship between his hosts, and how comfortable and trusting they were with one another. His parents had always been more distant and emotionally restrained, so being around the two of them and their far warmer romance had been a refreshing change.

With his newfound motivation, he peeled through the pile of potatoes in record time, deftly spinning and slicing at them in a way that probably would’ve seemed showy to an onlooker, but in reality just made things quicker for him. With the last one done and ready to go, he gave his hands a rinse in the washbucket, then went for the door. “I’ll come back down to help once I’ve read it!” he called over his shoulder as he went.

“Take your time, chico,” Nolani called after him. “I hope it doesn’t disappoint your imagination.”

Kalei cut a quick line back through the front room across to the narrow staircase that led up to the inn’s second floor, where a short hallway led to four rooms: Nolani and Captain Prior’s room, a bathchamber, and two guest rooms - one of which was his own for the time being (and as long as he wanted it, Nolani had said, after his rescue of the baron’s daughter). He stepped in quickly and nudged the door shut behind him, grabbing the envelope from the floor by the door and sweeping across the room to flop on the bed and examine it.

Just from the outside, it was interesting. The paper was of much higher quality than almost anything anyone in town used, and a blue wax seal with an unknown symbol promised its contents had yet to be viewed by any other than the sender. Kalei turned it over a few times in his hands, examining it all over, but other than noting that it was surprisingly pristine – most letters found at least a little wear and tear on their journeys – there was nothing else remarkable about it from the outside.

Nothing else to do but open it, then! Kalei carefully pried the seal up, reigning his enthusiasm in to avoid tearing the expensive paper, and unveiled the contents. Within, there was simply a folded slip of paper - a letter, obviously. Part of him had been hoping for something inherently unusual, though he wouldn’t have been able to tell you what. With almost reverential care, he unfolded it and began to read.

‘To the Brave, the Daring and the Crafty…’

The more Kalei read, the more intrigued he got - though at points, that intrigue came bound together with confusion. The letter’s writer - who introduced themselves only as ‘guildmaster’, wrote with an artistic flair, but even allowing for that, it struck Kalei as strange the way they wrote about the cataclysm.

Everyone knew about it, of course. Even the most unlearned farmer had probably heard stories about it at some point. But the letter’s author talked about that centuries-past event as if it were a recent thing, still fresh in the minds of folk. And sure, the stories said that once upon a time the world was a more connected place, the wilderness more tame and the empires vaster and more unified, but those were old stories… was it really such a worry to some people that it had happened?

Kalei had never been one to dwell in the past, least of all a past that he’d never known. His home was grand and prosperous, and Cirdan’s Haven flourishing. His teachers had talked about the cataclysm, and how it had changed everything, but for the most part people both at home and here didn’t seem to dwell overmuch on it.

But then, his teachers had also told him that the kingdoms of the mainland were rife with chaos and instability, thanks largely to their lack of strong traditions. He’d never put much stock in that, but maybe that was the sort of thing that the letter was talking about – that the cataclysm was still responsible for the way that those places failed to achieve the kind of longevity and stability of the people that had come before.

So maybe the writer had a flair for the dramatic, talking about taking a stand and all, against something Kalei’d never felt much need to stand on account of. But the world was a big place, and like as not there were plenty of places that could stand to have someone taking some kind of stand. Or just someone outstanding?

…he was confusing himself.

The important part, as he saw it, was whoever this was seemed to be looking for people for adventures. Uncovering lost secrets and exploring unsettled places were exactly the kind of thing he’d daydreamed about back home, lurking shadows or not. He was pretty sure one of his teachers had called him ‘an adventurer with an insatiable curiosity’ before, word for word. Well, maybe he’d used a few more words like ‘foolish’ or ‘irresponsible’, but the essence of the description had been there!

Nothing in the letter, however, gave him even the remotest clue how – or why – this Guildmaster had sent it to him, specifically. Because as much as the letter itself might have been a generic advertisement for its lack of personalisation, there was no doubting that it was his name (and full name, at that) scrawled in elegant lettering on the envelope, along with the inn’s name and that of Cirdan’s Haven. They’d known where he was, and apparently who he was, and that was… weird. To say the least.

Still, he supposed all things were possible with the Source. It was the why that left him short of any kind of answer. How did they even know about him? It wasn’t like he’d done anything of that much note since leaving home. Stopping a pirate ship might’ve been big for Cirdan’s Haven, but someone on the other side of the continent wasn’t going to have any idea it had happened. Surely it wasn’t for anything he’d done back home. He hadn’t done anything but alternate between being cooped up in a room for lessons, and running off to avoid being cooped up in said room by disappearing into the wilderness for a few days at a time.

Kalei sighed, scratching at his head. He wasn’t going to find any answers just sitting here boiling his brain in a soup of questions. By the sounds of it, there was only one way he was going to do that– and that was by going to this ‘Dragon’s Den Inn’. He’d have to ask at the local school or the town hall if someone better informed on mainland geography had any idea how big of a trip he was looking at.

But just then, as if prompted by him thinking about it, the letter shifted before his eyes; the words crawling across the page and merging together to shape themselves not into a written message, but a map of what he recognised to be Noldorin. Much of the continent was devoid of any noted detail, bar that which lay between two points. The first, on the northern coast, was Cirdan’s Haven. The second, some ways to the southwest near the base of Mount Alqualondë, was marked as “Dragon’s Den”. A route was plotted between the two, following what few roads existed where it could, and otherwise cutting what he presumed to be a path of least resistance through the wilds where civilisation dwindled.

Kalei blinked down at it, taken aback. It wasn’t his first run-in with that kind of magic, but he’d far from been expecting it. “Yai… I guess they’re pretty serious,” he murmured. The journey wasn’t vast, but it wasn’t small either. It would take at least a few weeks by foot, and would leave Cirdan’s Haven far away – not to mention home even further.

With a shake of his head, he set the map aside. He could think about this another day, but not today. Today was the Fishermen’s Festival Feast – the biggest (and most alliterative) celebratory feast of the year in Cirdan’s Haven – and he didn’t need to be worrying about mysterious guilds and big journeys. They could all wait till when he was ready to consider moving on anyway.

Tucking the letter back into its envelope and sliding it into his travel-bag, which rested idly in the same corner he’d left it since first arriving, Kalei made his way back downstairs to help Nolani with her food preparations.

 

[Script]

Unsurprisingly, Nolani had no greater insights into the contents of the letter than he did, and could only agree on its strangeness. She hadn’t heard of the Dragon’s Den, and neither had Captain Prior when he returned shortly after. As enticing as the promise of a new adventure was, it didn’t take long before being swept up in the festival preparations pushed the letter out of his mind altogether.

A few hours later, Kalei had stepped out the back to take a break from the kitchen’s heat, leaning onto the edge of the inn’s small well and letting the slightly cooler late-afternoon air refresh him from the time spent working. From this vantage point near the highest level of the town, the inn’s yard provided a beautiful view of the verdant cliffside beyond the town’s eastern edge for him to gaze at. The sun was hanging low in the sky by now, casting the shadows of some of the larger buildings in town onto the treeline, and tinting the light with the beginnings of a sunset orange.

Wait. The beginnings of sunset?

Kalei jerked bolt upright and cursed, darting back inside at a run and almost startling Nolani into dropping one of the pies she was taking out of their oven. “Mother’s ice, Lei, what are you rushing for?” she exclaimed.

“I’m sorry!” Kalei was practically jogging on the spot as he stopped to apologise. “I just remembered I was meeting someone before the festival! And I’m almost late! Sorry, can you bring everything down without my help?”

Nolani let out a sigh that was equal parts fond and exasperated. “Of course we can, don’t worry about that. Go on, go, get ready before you let helping us make you late. Silly boy.”

“Thank you!” He called over his shoulder, already scrambling up the stairs. Back in his room, he shed his by-now well-worn and sweat soaked work clothes and used a swirl of water from his belt to clean himself up as best he could, before pulling on one of his nicer outfits out from the closet. He hadn’t had many occasions to wear the colourful silks since setting out, but a festival was as good as an excuse as any.

Within a few minutes of hasty preparation, he was on his way down the stairs and slipping out the back past Nolani and Captain Prior again. “I’ll see you guys down at the festival, bye! Good luck with everything that’s left to do!”

“Have fun now!” he heard Nolani call after him, the laughter that followed quickly lost to the wind as he set off at a run, vaulting over the back wall and down the slope beyond it without so much as slowing for the sheer terrain. He wore a broad grin as he went, the wind rushing through his hair as he swept through the town’s outskirts, startling the few festival-goers whose paths he crossed, to whom he offered hurried apologies yelled over his shoulder.

Kalei’s dash took him not towards the waterfront, where the festival would just be beginning to stir in preparation for the feast an hour after sundown, but off to where the town’s buildings gave way to mostly-unconquered wooded hillside. He slowed his pace as he moved from the level stone streets to the uneven, angular forest floor, and the canopy closed loosely overhead, but only by just enough to weave through the trees and over the rocky formations without risk of dirtying his clothes.

He didn’t delve deeply into the treeline – his destination wasn’t far beyond the town’s borders, and well before he reached it, the unmarred forest gave way in places to the remnants of an ancient stone road. Now little more than scattered glimpses of half-buried stonework in the hillside, the thicker foliage nonetheless had yet to swallow it entirely, allowing it to continue to mark a path of less resistance through the trees.

The broken road led on to old stone stairs that wound back and forth up a steeper section of hillside, and here - nearing the meeting point - Kalei slowed to a less urgent pace, letting his breathing steady as he made his way up at a jaunt, finally cresting the climb just as the sunset began in earnest on the western horizon.

The ancient steps led up to a plateau of worked stone, long overgrown and riddled with cracks where the plantlife had begun to reclaim it, but far more clear in its purpose than the other scattered half-ruins in the area. It was an old shrine to some forgotten - or at least unrecognisable - deity, the cracked altar and weathered statues laid out as you would expect for a place of worship, the former raised slightly off of the ground on a dais at the ruin’s head. High walls had once closed the shrine in and shielded it from the elements, but they were long-crumbled down to barely more than a skeletal foundation, peppered here and there with dips and arches that were recognisable as once-windows, now simply oddities in the wall’s shaping. The only other feature of note, and the only evidence of regular visitation, was a faded old rug laid out on a mossy patch of stone to one side of the shrine.

Just a few feet beyond the altar, the stone dropped away abruptly, into a sheer drop down the hillside into the canopy below. It jutted out over the forest proudly, and Kalei couldn’t help but think it had earned that pride by merit of having held steady over however many years it had been since its destruction in the fall of the old world, and whatever force had wracked the land then. Now, its deity lost or forgotten, it served little purpose other than to offer a beautiful vantage point from which to look out over Cirdan’s Haven and the waters of Haven Bay.

The townsfolk knew about it, but it was very rare for anyone to visit. Which, combined with its beauty, was why Kalei and his waiting companion had made it their place of choice to find time alone over the past weeks.

Speaking of whom, perched on the remnants of the wall with one leg tucked up under his chin as he took in the view, Elio was halfway silhouetted by the sunset’s glow, the light painting his tousled brown hair with shades of copper and auburn. The loose-fitting white shirt he wore was decorated with twinned lines of colourful floral embroidery down its front, where its neckline parted in a low v. The traditional style was common locally for celebratory occasions, and though Kalei preferred to wear the attire of his own home for such events, he could appreciate its appeal. Particularly given who was wearing it.

“Sorry I’m late!” He called, announcing his presence with an apologietc smile.

Elio turned to face him, his expression lighting up with a warm smile to match. “It’s alright. I haven’t been here long. Busy day as usual?”

“Even busier, actually!” Kalei let out a breath that was half-sigh, half-whistle, meandering his way closer over a pile of old rubble, arms spread out as much to trail through the wind as for balance’s sake. “Nolani’s been making a lot of dishes up for the feast, and Captain Prior had to bring in a catch, and then Bernadette needed help with her hammer, and some of the kids wanted a show…” he counted off the day’s errands on his fingers, though he wasn’t complaining – everything had been his own choice to help with, after all.

“You’re too helpful for your own good,” Elio remarked with a quiet laugh. “I don’t know how you find the energy for it all. It tires me out just working my days at the orchard.”

Kalei grinned, hopping down from the rubble pile and crossing over to lean onto the wall next to him. “I help out lots of different people in different places, but I probably only work the same amount as you do in one place overall.”

“That’s not even half-true, and you know it,” Elio reached over to tuck Kalei’s windswept hair away from his face affectionately.

“... alright, fine,” Kalei laughed, lifting his hand to lace their fingers together. “I don’t know. I have more energy than I know what to do with, so I might as well use it to help folks! Right?”

Elio just shook his head, still smiling. “Whatever makes you happy, sunshine boy. Just don’t go getting taken advantage of.”

“No way,” Kalei shook his head. “I’m pretty good at telling when someone actually needs help. It’s harder than you think to pull the wool over my eyes! It’s a no-wool-zone up here!” He grinned and lifted their hands together to rest on the side of his face level with his eyes, prompting another laugh from the other boy.

“You sure?” Elio teased. “I find it can be pretty easy sometimes to fog you up. Like this, for instance,” he declared, before leaning forwards to press a kiss to Kalei’s lips. “See?”

Feeling his face turn quickly red, and quite frustratedly proving Elio’s point, Kalei spluttered for words for a moment before letting out a flustered huff. “That- that doesn’t count, most people aren’t gonna do that!”

“That’s true, I suppose,” Elio snickered into his other hand. “It’s a good thing I don’t plan on taking advantage of you, then.”

It was Kalei’s turn to smirk a little, batting his eyelashes at the other boy. “Really?” he asked, affecting disappointment. “Not even a little?”

He was rewarded with Elio’s cheeks colouring just a touch, before his expression turned more sultry. “It’s hardly taking advantage when you sign up for it,” he murmured, lifting himself more fully off of the wall and leaning into Kalei, catching him in another kiss. “Or are you going to pretend that’s not why we’re here?” he asked after they’d parted, staying close enough that Kalei still felt the warmth of his breath as he spoke.

Now feeling hot for more reasons than just the weather, Kalei pulled the other boy close. “I’ve never been a liar, y’know…”

The back and forth of words didn’t take long to be abandoned in favour for another kind of dance, as they tangled together there on the floor of the old shrine for far from the first time. Elio was just one more reason why Kalei would have to think twice before moving on from Cirdan’s Haven. The two of them weren’t all that much more than good friends who had discovered they both enjoyed one another’s company in more than one way, but for Kalei that kind of closeness - fond and loving, but uncommitted - suited him just fine. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in love or commitment, or even that he couldn’t see something like that happening with Elio if they both wanted it to, just that…

… well, Nolani had hit the nail on the head earlier when they’d talked. He wasn’t ready to settle down anywhere yet, let alone with anyone. He was lucky to have found a companion happy to take their friendship-come-romance one day at a time without worrying for commitments or leaping into feelings at the deep end. Kalei had made that mistake before, and still regretted it a great deal.

By the time they were laid out together upon the old rug - which they’d brought up themselves after the first time one of their visits to the old shrine had turned intimate and left them with scuffs in all kinds of undesirable places from the rough stone - the sky had darkened, leaving only a few faint remnants of the sunset to add hints of colour to the encroaching night.

Elio sighed contentedly, resting against his side and idly toying with his hair, while Kalei basked similarly in the moment of quiet closeness. But as comfortable as the moment was, they couldn’t stay there for long tonight, or they’d risk missing the start of the festival proper.

“We should probably get back moving soon,” he murmured into the other boy’s hair.

“Mmmn,” Elio murmured a discontented groan. “Must we?”

“Soon,” Kalei conceded, laughing quietly. “We have a few minutes, still.”

Elio hummed something that might have been acceptance at that, but it was a little hard to tell for lack of any words to accompany it. Kalei smiled and tilted his head back to gaze at the sky overhead. Though the sun had set, the night wasn’t black – the clear skies left the path for the bright moon and multitude of stars to grant the landscape illumination enough to see by just fine.

They lay in contented silence for a while longer, while Kalei’s thoughts wandered back to earlier - to the letter, and even before that, his talk with Nolani.

“I’ve been thinking,” he spoke softly, breaking the still silence.

“That’s rare,” Elio mumbled, a lilt of mischief to his voice that crescendoed into a squeak as Kalei jabbed him lightly in the ribs. “Sorry, sorry, okay. What have you been thinking?” The other boy shifted to drape himself half atop of Kalei, resting his chin on his chest and looking up to meet his gaze.

Kalei hesitated before he went on, debating once more whether he might want to consider staying at Cirdan’s Haven long-term. But as soon as he’d had the thought, he knew the answer. It was a lovely town, but Nolani was right. It was too quiet. Parts of him, he realised, had already begun to grow restless with it - which was probably half of the reason why he’d been spending as much time as he had doing all kinds of errands for the locals to keep himself busy. He’d stayed still for too long, and his wandering spirit had begun to crave a change.

“I might not be staying here for all that much longer,” he finished quietly, looking down to gauge Elio’s reaction. As much as their romance might have been casual, he wasn’t quite naive enough to think that the other boy wouldn’t be sad to see him go - just as he would be sad to leave him behind.

And, indeed, after a moment of surprise, Elio’s face did drop a little. “So soon?”

Kalei gave a tentative nod. “I don’t mean right away, but… sometime soon. Maybe in the next week or two. I … only really realised today, that I’ve been thinking about it. Where to go next.”

Elio was quiet for a few seconds, then sighed, turning his face to the side and resting on Kalei’s chest. “I knew you would be going eventually, but I thought it would be further away. I’ll miss you. Nobody in town is as fun as you, or as kind.”

“That’s not true,” Kalei nudged him gently. “Well… maybe the fun part,” he admitted playfully, earning a smile. “But there’s tons of kind people here. It’s a real nice place! I’m just…”

“A free spirit,” Elio finished for him, smiling again. “I know. You said as much when I was first getting to know you, so…” he sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t be around forever. I’ll still miss this, though.”

“There’s plenty of other nice, handsome guys in town that I’d bet will be aaall over you before a year’s out,” Kalei remarked with a grin. “Especially now that I’ve taught you all my sexy wisdoms.”

That got a snort of laughter. “Right, those. Of course, how could I forget? Wisdoms like ‘don’t chafe your ass on ancient flagstones, or-”

“Okay, okay, we don’t have to talk about the wisdoms!” Kalei interrupted him before he could bring up anything else embarrassing. “Just, you know, you have them now. But uh, really… thanks for understanding.”

“It would be pretty difficult not to understand you, Lei,” Elio looked back up at him with a fond smile. “You wear the way you feel like a badge. It’s one of the things I like about you.” The other boy yawned, then pushed himself up into a sitting position and stretched. “Come on, then,” he ran a hand through his hair and started gathering his clothes back up. “If you’re going soon, then that’s all the more reason to make some more good memories with you tonight.”

Kalei beamed at him, hopping up to his feet and quickly pulling him in for another quick kiss before he could react. “And that’s one of the reasons why I like you,” he noted after pulling away. “You’re all about making the best of the present, and not letting the past drag you down, or the future make you scared! Not many people can do that, you know? So that makes you pretty amazing, in my books.”

“Aw, come on, you’re being sappy now…” Elio mumbled, but his smile was all-but radiant. They shared one more warm moment of closeness there before they each set about getting ready to head back into town.

Kalei had just pulled the last of his clothes on, and was fixing his hair back up with a tie, when something caught his attention off of the shore. If he hadn’t been gazing out at the bay with the firm intent of imprinting its late-night vista on his memory, he might have missed it; it was scarcely more than a sleek shadow on the water at this distance.

A ship; one that hung no lantern to mark its passage, nor any flag to announce its affiliation. And - though it was even harder to make out the colours from here - he was fairly sure that its sails were black.

Pirates.

“Oh, no,” Kalei gripped the edge of the shrine’s wall, dread building in his stomach. With all the lights on the shore, the townsfolk wouldn’t see the ship out in the dark until it was practically on top of the town. And if no alarm had been sounded already, then any sentries on duty had either missed it, or been otherwise disposed of.

“What is it?” Elio came up alongside him, noting the shift in his expression and following his gaze out into the bay. “Is something there?”

“Look. Moving down near Keeper’s Rock.” Kalei pointed.

It took him a moment, but when Elio’s face paled, he knew that he’d seen it to. “Oh, Mother take me, is that? It is, isn’t it?”

“They must be friends of the ones I caught,” Kalei started toward the steps as he spoke. If he was fast, he might be able to get there in time. Might. “Here to break them out, or for revenge, or– for nothing good!”

“My family’s down there!” Elio was hurrying after him. “I have to-”

“I’ll handle it!” Kalei glanced back at him and shook his head. “You– you should go to the baron’s keep, at the top of town! Fetch his guards, let them know what’s happening!”

“I–” Elio stammered briefly, then nodded. “Right! I’ll do it. You– you’ll be safe, won’t you?”

Kalei flashed him a reassuring smile. “I’ll do you one better than safe– I’ll win. You be careful too, the slopes are hard to cross quickly in the dark. Don’t run until you’re back on even ground.”

“You mean like you’re going to?” Elio gave him a nervous frown.

“... well, yeah, but I can run up walls, El,” Kalei shook his head. “Don’t worry about me. Hurry, but hurry safely!”

“Okay…” Elio nodded. Right before he was about to take off in a run, Kalei felt the other boy catch his wrist. “Wait, before you go,” he leaned in and gave him a quick-but-fierce parting kiss, accompanying it with a nervous smile once he’d pulled back. “For luck.”

“Luckier for it already,” Kalei replied, flashing a grin in return and squeezing Elio’s hand for a final few seconds, before he let it fall and turned his attention forwards.

Alright, Lei. Time to do what you do best.

He gathered his focus, steadied his breathing, and - eyes set on the dockside, where the festival carried on in blissful ignorance of the danger approaching through the water - coiled himself like a spring. Holding that tension for just long enough for the night’s breeze to lick through his hair, he drew on that same freedom of motion - the speed of the wind - to resonate with his form.

Fly free.

He sprung. Just like earlier, as he rushed to reach his and Elio’s hideaway before he was late, he let his body flow into motion guided more by instinct than conscious thought. Unlike earlier, though, now he drew on the spiritual powers he harboured - that he’d learned to wield back home - to augment his instincts with feats of movement otherwise impossible.

He hopped down the steep stone stairs up to the shrine a flight at a time, bypassing their switchbacks and all-but gliding down the sloping descent to drop gracefully into the treeline below in just a few short moments. From there he sprinted through the trees, skimming over the uneven terrain unhindered. Each obstacle in his path only served as a launch point to gather more momentum.

When he broke from the treeline and back out into the streets of Cirdan’s Haven, he swerved sharply, directing his dash straight down towards the docks. The streets were empty this high in the town, its residents all gathered near the water for the feast. Unarmed, and unsuspecting.

Faster, damn it!

Even fast as he was, even skipping swathes of slope and jumping down from the streets of one tier to the rooftops of the next, it took time to cross the length of a town - time in which the pirates drew closer. They could already be at the docks, and he wouldn’t know. Tonight was supposed to have been for making happy memories, and he was not going to let whoever these people were turn it into a tragedy.

Finally, he reached the edge of the final tier above the docks, where he could get a good view of the festival and the bay beyond. The long tables for the town-wide feast had been set up all down the dockside, and hanging lights and decorations were scattered all over the streets. He spotted stalls for festival games and trinket sales, a large cooking fire to warm the dishes that the townsfolk had brought to share with their neighbours, and smiling faces everywhere he turned.

Disaster hadn’t yet struck, but he wasn’t a moment to soon. A short way down the dock from where he was, he spotted the beginnings of a disturbance, as a few people were moving from their seats at the table to point and look out at the end of one of the district’s longer piers. And there, coming to a halt on the dockside, was the ship. It hadn’t even come to a complete standstill before Kalei saw a few of its more eager crew begin to disembark, jumping onto the pier and starting towards where the townsfolk were beginning to realise these new arrivals were anything but friendly.

Kalei hissed a curse, and once more he leaped down from his overlook to thud onto a rooftop below, rolling to soften his fall and straight back up into motion. He skimmed over the rooftops, feet barely grazing the tiles as he shot toward the burgeoning conflict. People were beginning to scatter, but confusion was still rife. Not everyone realised what was happening, and they wouldn’t, not until the raiders were too close to escape!

No!

He wouldn’t let that happen. Drawing on more of the source, Kalei gathered the wind about himself, a burgeoning windstorm that swallowed him for a moment before flowing as he commanded it. Back, to send him onwards with its roar.

He pushed, and a blast of wind erupted behind him loudly enough to be heard over the chatter and music below, and dozens of gawping faces looked up to watch as he sailed like an arrow over their heads, shooting across to where the small, five-strong gang of eager raiders was just reaching the end of the docks. An equally small group of locals there had taken up dinner knives, oars and anything else they could find in readiness to hold them at bay while others fled.

Kalei landed into a skidding slide between the two groups just moments before they met, kicking up a small cloud of dust and startling the men at the front of the pirates’ haphazard charge enough for them to stumble to a momentary halt.

Letting out a long breath, Kalei straightened and let the source he’d gathered flow away from him. Not entirely, but enough that he could release his tension and drop back into a more familiar, loose and flexible stance. He stretched his legs out, then his arms, then turned to face the raiders.

“Phew! Almost didn’t make it here to greet you guys!” His sunny greeting only served to throw them off even further, and they exchanged a few uncertain looks amongst themselves. Kalei nodded behind them to the ship, where more of the crew had begun to lower the boarding ramp so they could join their overeager vanguard. “I don’t suppose I can convince you all to just turn around and go away, can I? That’d be a lot easier – for you, I mean! I promise.”

“Who is this kid?” one of them muttered.

“A dead man,” another replied, irritated.

“Think this is the one that took down One Ear’s lot?”

“Don’t be stupid, he’s a kid. And that rumor’s not worth the air it’s spoken with, anyway,” one of the men, slightly older and more confident in his stance, spat on the floor in front of Kalei. “You’ve made a poor choice getting in our way, kid. Our captain’s not too keen on this town locking up his old pal. So we’re here to teach a lesson in respectin’ who owns the seas.”

“That’s funny,” Kalei flashed him a lopsided grin. “Cause that’s why I’m here, too. And uh, it’s not you. That’s the first lesson.”

“Enough of this,” the man drew a chipped cutlass from its sheathe and stalked forwards. “Once I’ve put the funny man in the ground, we make for the pris-”

Kalei didn’t let him finish his sentence before he’d darted forwards, ducking under the man’s responding hasty swing of his blade and slamming his palm into his chest. The man choked as the wind was pushed out of his lungs, and he was hurled back several feet, landing hard on the ground with a wheezing groan.

The moment of stunned confusion it took each of the others to process what had just happened was all Kalei needed to seize the upper hand. A quick sidestep brought him to the second man, whose wrist he caught in the beginnings of an attempt to drive a dagger towards him and twisted, pulling his arm back behind him at a painful angle before driving his other hand in a swift chop to the back of the pirate’s neck that had him drop limp. Before he hit the floor, Kalei spun with him and planted a foot in his back to launch him into the path of the third man, tripping him over mid-charge and giving Kalei a window to face the other two that were still standing.

He wove fluidly to the side of one’s rapier thrust, catching his arm and swinging it up to parry the downswing of the other’s scimitar. The rapier snapped in half at the impact, while Kalei pulled its wielder around with him like a dance partner, pushing off of him to lend momentum to a swift roundhouse kick into the scimitar-wielder’s head, knocking him down and out for the count.

The same momentum was enough to twist the rapier-wielder’s arm painfully out of its socket, and he let out a pained shout, dropping the remnants of his blade while Kalei let his arm go and swerved to the side of a desperate punch of the pirate’s off-hand before a quick elbow to the face took him down as well.

And that left… Lei wheeled around just in time to drop to the floor and avoid a wild sweep from the axe of the man who he’d barreled over with one of his comrades a few moments ago. He pushed himself forwards, taking advantage of the man’s poor stance – too wide – to slide straight between his legs, and with a deft spin on the ground he was able to swing one foot upwards and deliver a shattering kick to his groin.

The man let out a high-pitched squeak that trailed out into a wheeze, dropped the axe, and then dropped to the floor in a curled-up ball himself. He was out of commission.

By this time, the first man had pulled himself back to his feet, still gasping the air back into his lungs, but Kalei had no intention of waiting around for him to fully recover. He dropped into a charge, and before the pirate could ready a defense, he had delivered a quick series of precise blows across his torso, finishing with a solid punch to the jaw that spun him off of his feet to land hard again in the dirt. This time, he didn’t stir.

A chance to breathe would have been more than welcome at this point, but he was in no such luck. Those five had just been the undisciplined, eager ones. He wagered there must be at least another dozen or two now piling off of the ship toward the shore. Not ideal odds. Not insurmountable, but not good.

The townsfolk - those that hadn’t already scattered - lingered nearby, watching with wide eyes as he took on the raiders. Some had found weapons and seemed poised to help him, but he could tell they didn’t know how to use them. And even if they had, why did there have to be bloodshed on what was meant to be a night of celebration?

No, he would handle this! He would stop the raid before it began, and let the festival continue. It could be his final service to this town that had welcomed him so readily, even before he’d done anything to help them, before he left it behind to serve his wanderlust.

If I’m going soon, that’s all the reason to make sure the last days are filled with nothing but happy memories.

“Yenai,” he whispered, the Goddess’ name falling from his lips with the weight of one unspoken for months of silence. “I might not be the greatest messenger you’ve ever had, but please, lend me just enough strength to deal with these murderers before they spill any more blood into your waters.”

He didn’t know whether the prayer would do anything, but if there was a chance, then there couldn’t be any harm in trying. Right? He hoped so.

Freshly resolved, he started forwards; if he was going to meet these people anywhere, he was best off doing it on the pier, where there wasn’t room enough for them to press their numbers against him.

A click from above, on the deck of the ship, alerted him to a more immediate danger before he closed the gap with the rest of the pirates. His eyes flicked toward it just in time to see one of the pirates - dressed in a fancy-looking long coat - pulling the trigger on a crossbow pointed straight at him. The next instant, time seemed almost to slow down to a crawl.

The trickle of source still resonating within him snapped tight like a bowstring of its own, pure instinct taking command of his muscles and tugging his arm up to snatch the crossbow bolt out of the air, where it vibrated fiercely in his fist a few inches from his head.

Several of the pirates stopped to stare.

Even Kalei was surprised for a split second. It wasn’t the first time he’d caught an arrow, but every other time - in training - he’d had warning. And the arrow’d had a padded end.

He guessed the training had paid off.

Narrowing his eyes, he snapped the bolt in his grip and let it drop. The world flooded back into motion, and so did he, ducking down to snatch up a coil of rope from the dockside - a spare mooring line, complete with a tied loop for fastening about a piling. Once more letting his instincts and the source guide him, he twirled the rope around his head like a lasso once, then a second time, then let it fly - sailing through the air to where the crossbowman was cranking a second shot. The looped rope landed perfectly around his neck, and in the same instant that he looked up in shock, Kalei pulled it tight.

With a panicked cry, the man tumbled from the ship’s edge and into the water, disappearing with a splash along with his weapon.

One of the other pirates let out a startled shout. “Captain!”

Oh. That had been the captain? Well, then. That had been easy. And that just left the rest of them.

Kalei took in the small mob of armed men and women scattered along the length of the pier and the ship’s boarding ramp. There were only, what, a couple dozen? Give or take?

…yeah, he was going to need a better strategy than just trying to take them all on in a straight-up fight.

The pier groaned as the gang of raiders piled onto it and those at the front broke into a run to rush him, and Kalei felt it shift under him– in a way that was suddenly very familiar.

Of course! The pirates had picked out an empty pier for their ship to dock at, not realising that it was the very pier that he and Captain Prior had pulled into earlier and realised was too unstable to safely use for mooring.

Too unstable for mooring, and maybe – with a little nudge from him – too unstable for a gang of charging pirates.

Kalei grinned in the face of the approaching raiders, drawing once more on the source to reach out for the waves beneath them. These people were about to learn why you never tried to fight a watershaper on - or anywhere near - open water.

Answering his call, the waters of the bay kicked up rapidly into a churning, swirling current that sent shuddering vibrations along the length of the pier. The shaking was enough to unbalance the pirates and draw them to an uncertain halt.

“What’s he doing? Stop him!” One of them yelled, but it was too little too late.

With a heave, Kalei pushed with all his might, and the water surged with him. The already unsteady pilings of the pier splintered and collapsed, sparking a chain reaction with the other supports as one by one, they failed to stand up against the unnatural current and the weight of the boardwalk’s occupants. The pier collapsed, spilling the raiders into the water with a chorus of angry yells, while Kalei stepped nimbly up onto one of the two pilings nearest the shore that he had guided the currents to leave untouched.

“Get out!” he growled, sweeping his arms back to draw out five tendrils of water that lashed onto the shore to grab the prone forms of the pirates he’d already brought low, yanking them back into the bay to join their fellows. “Leave these people alone!”

Once more, he pushed his arms forwards, this time sending the water of the bay crashing forth in a single, directed wave, catching the pirates up in its surging current and pushing them back out to sea. Their ship too, now unmoored, drifted out in a slow spiral away from them as the surging tides clipped its hull.

The pirates were scattered and adrift, struggling to stay afloat against the unnatural current that had carried them out far into the bay, and many of their weapons had been abandoned to sink beneath the waves. Their threat might not be completely over, but by the time any of them could make it back to shore, they would be met not by revelling townsfolk, but by the baron’s guards - and picking them out of the water one at a time as they washed ashore would be a damn sight easier than handling a full-sized raiding party head on.

The worst of the danger had passed, and Kalei let himself relax, releasing his grip on the source and on the bay’s waters with a sigh of relief.

When he hopped back to the shore, exhausted, he was greeted by a roar of cheers and applause from the townsfolk - many of whom had watched the clash from the dockside. He was too drained to do much more than offer them a tired smile and wave, but thankfully, he didn’t have to do much more, as Nolani and Captain Prior quickly broke from the crowd and hurried over to his side.

“Kalei! Are you alright? You look pale, were you hurt?” Nolani fussed over him, scanning his body for any sign of injury.

“I’m okay,” Kalei shook his head. “Just tired. Shaping that much water, oof, it takes it outta me… you know water’s actually pretty heavy?” He rubbed at his head, then glanced over at Captain Prior with an apologetic smile. “Ah, sorry about the pier Captain Prior, I kind of… uh, it’s gone.”

“That thing was going to collapse before anyone got ‘round to fixing it anyway,” the captain shook his head, clapping him on the shoulder. “Don’t you go apologising for anything.”

“The baron’s guards are here!” Someone from the crowd called, and Kalei glanced up to see a dozen or so men in armour hustling onto the scene, only to look a little nonplussed that there was no chaos to reign in. He supposed that they probably didn’t see a lot of action, given how quiet the town usually was.

“I’ll explain things to them,” Captain Prior said, patting his arm. “Take the boy to rest, Nolani, he looks like he needs it. Get some food in him, maybe.”

“I’ll do just that. Come now, Lei, sit down over here.” Nolani ushered him away from the scene, leaving the captain to meet the guards and answer their quick barrage of questions. The onlookers gave the two of them space as they headed over to one of the now-abandoned tables and he slumped into a seat, the day’s exertions catching up to him all at once now that adrenaline was no longer driving him onwards.

The next hour or so passed in a bit of a blur. The buzz of the grateful townsfolk around him continued until Nolani was able to chase them away to give him a chance to recover, and the festivities were put on hold until the baron’s men and a selection of the town’s militia had sailed out into the bay to round up the washed-up pirates to be hauled off to the jail.

He started feeling a bit more human again after he managed to put away a bowl of stew and a mug of tea, and after a relieved Elio arrived on the scene to his own round of commendation for having brought the baron’s men to help. Once the clamour had died down and the situation was under control, the town collectively made the call to let the festival continue, and - albeit a sight later than it was supposed to - the feast went ahead as planned.

Nolani couldn’t keep the people at bay forever, alas, and much of Kalei’s night was spent shaking people’s hands and accepting their gratitude for stopping the attack before it started, but he wasn’t too bothered by it. Every face that came to give him their thanks was another face that might have lost their life that night otherwise, and in his view, there was no better reward than seeing them all smiling.

That said, the few moments that he found the chance to slip away to enjoy the festivities without it turning into a meet-and-greet were just as enjoyable. Throwing hoops and hooking wood-carved toy fish with a model fishing line alongside Elio, Nolani and his other friends in town was a memory he wouldn’t soon forget - and all the moreso for the knowledge of what the night very easily could have turned into instead.

__________

It was just over a week later, having dallied and delayed longer than he’d intended to make sure no more trouble surfaced unexpectedly in the aftermath of the festival, that Kalei finally decided that his next morning in Cirdan’s Haven would be his last. Doing the rounds that day to say his farewells was an emotional affair, as many of the townsfolk he’d come to know weren’t quite as insightful as Nolani, or as close to him as Elio, and his departure took them very much by surprise.

He had to fend off a great many requests that he stay for this occasion or that, or just stay permanently altogether, but his resolve was firm. The world was, after all, a very big place. And there were bigger things to worry about than pirates, that maybe – just maybe – someone like him could help with, if the magical invitation he’d received was anything to go by.

The next morning, in the twilight before dawn, just three people saw him to the town’s southern gate, where the road lead further on to the mainland and toward the grand mountain rising in the distance.

“It’s a long way you’re going, Lei,” Nolani said, her smile sad, but no less warm for it. “But don’t think I’m not expecting you to write. If your guild can send out magical letters to find their way here, you’d best make sure you get them to send some our way to let us know how you’re doing.”

“Don’t worry, Nolani, I will,” Kalei grinned at her. “I’ll be sure to include all the best bits of the adventures, too.”

“Not too many details, I hope,” she murmured with a shake of her head. “I’d like to be able to sleep at night and not be kept up for worrying.” Sighing, she clasped her hands on his shoulders, then pulled him into a tight hug. “You take care, alright? Feels like it’s been a lot longer than three months since you first walked in through my door, and I’ve come to care for you a great deal.”

She leaned back and rested a hand on his cheek, smiling with teary eyes. “I told you before that me and Edric’ve always wanted kids, but on account of my past self it’s never been possible. Thank you for giving me a taste of what it’d be like to have the sweetest son in the world.”

“Nolani…” Kalei’s heart melted a little, and he darted forwards to pull her into another hug. “I’ll come back and see you again, I promise.”

He felt a firm hand come to rest on his shoulder, and glanced up to see Captain Prior’s normally stoic face cracked with a warm smile and glassy eyes of his own. “We’ll be looking forward to it, lad. It’s been an honour to have you aboard my ship these past months. I hope you find what it is you’re looking for out there.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Kalei replied, smiling up at him. When Nolani stepped back from their embrace, he gave the older man a stiff salute, and then - before he could protest - ducked in to give him a hug too. The captain softened immediately and gave him a firm squeeze in return, patting his shoulder and surreptitiously wiping his eyes.

“No, thank you, my boy. I know I speak for the whole town when I say you’re more than welcome back any time.”

The pair of them stepped back then, arm in arm, to give him a little space for his last goodbye. Elio had been lingering on the fringe of their farewell, and now met his eyes with some trepidation. “Already time, then?” He asked in a soft voice. “Funny how a week can feel like a blink when you don’t want it to end.”

“It was a good week, though, wasn’t it?” Kalei smiled, taking the other boy’s hands in his. They’d spent much of their last few days venturing out further into the woodlands and the ruins therein, making as much time for exploring and wandering in one another’s company as they could. “Plenty of happy memories?”

“Yeah. You’re right,” Elio sighed, pushing a smile onto his face. “It was.” He shook his head, stepping in to lace their fingers together and press their foreheads together. “I knew you were never going to stay. You’re like a whirlwind, Lei. Crashing into our lives and making everything all kinds of exciting for a while, but gone just as fast.”

“I… hope I didn’t break quite as many things as a whirlwind, at least?” Kalei cringed a little at the metaphor.

Elio laughed, though there was a sadness to it that he couldn’t hide. “No. You’re not that sort of whirlwind. Just the kind that people like us could never hope to keep up with. Captain Prior said it best, I think. I hope you find what you’re looking for out there. And I hope you figure out what it is, before you end up losing it.”

He leaned in to press one final, brief kiss to Kalei’s lips, then stepped back. “Goodbye, Lei,” he said, his voice a little shaky.

“You’ll see me again, El, don’t worry,” Kalei tried to reassure him with a smile. “I promised Nolani, and I mean it.”

“Then I hope the next time you come rolling through town, whirlwind, that it’s as much fun as it has been this go around,” Elio replied. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll find someone out there who’s crazy enough to stick to you like a storm chaser, too. Good luck. And take care?”

“I will.” Kalei nodded firmly. He would – he’d be back before they knew it, with a fresh boatload of adventure stories to tell. This wasn’t goodbye. It was just…

“I… guess I’ll see you all later, then,” he said, looking up with a sad smile at each of them. “Till next time.”

“Till next time,” Nolani repeated with a tearful nod.

And… that was that, he realised. He stood there dumbly for a few moments longer, before he was finally able to wrench himself away and start off down the road, ignoring the sting of tears in his eyes as he did.

How did this feel more like leaving home than leaving his actual home had done? That just didn’t seem fair. It was supposed to get easier, not harder.

He had to force himself not to look back, not until he reached the crest of a rise some five minutes down the road, beyond which he realised he wouldn’t be able to see the gates if he turned to look. When he did, all three of them were still there watching him go. Nolani had an arm around Elio, and Captain Prior’s hand was resting on her shoulder, and it stung all over again to see them so sad over his departure. Almost enough to make him turn right back around and declare it had all been a mistake, and he was going to stay.

But no. He couldn’t. He wasn’t going to find what he needed in that little town, as wonderful as it was. Captain Prior had been right, and so had Elio. Out there, somewhere, was something that would lead him to the answers he needed.

And between here and there, hopefully, was something that would help him figure out what exactly it was he needed answering.

Often as not, answers come not from the destination, but from the journey. That was something Elder Liko, one of his teachers back home, had told him once. Maybe she’d known even back then that he would end up like this – she always had seemed to know him better than he knew himself. So maybe he just needed to keep on journeying until he felt like he’d journeyed enough.

Gathering his resolve one final time, he swallowed, turned to face forwards once more, and stepped off of the rise, starting down the road down the far side. The next time he glanced back, nothing was there to meet his gaze but the road already travelled.

And with time, he told himself, that would hurt a little less.

____

Kalei had travelled before, and a great distance at that, but this was the first time his travels had taken him over quite so much land. Navigating the open waves on a skimmer was a lot more enjoyable, in his books, than trudging down the road for hours at a time, even if the sights and views were more varied than the expanse of blue that he was used to.

A week in, his feet were sore and his legs ached, and he was beginning to wonder if he would be better off waiting until some kind of magical maritime adventuring organisation got in touch with him instead. Who even wanted to be this far from the sea anyway? What was there worth going inland for? Mountains? They were just big rocks! And they had plenty of them closer to the water anyway!

What’s more, until now, he hadn’t understood the fascination of inlanders with sitting on top of animals like horses instead of relying on their own two feet, but after experiencing this, he most suredly recanted every joke he’d ever made about them lacking sea-legs because they didn’t even use their legs on land. He would have traded his whole bag of belongings for a horse to ride at this point, but going by the magical map from his letter, there wasn’t going to be any kind of settlement, outpost, or even an inn between here and his destination.

Who even put an inn this far in the wilderness? Who was supposed to be staying there? The trees?

Grumbling thoughts like this accompanied him throughout his march, even as he grew more used to the exertion into the second week, and learned to better pace himself throughout the day. As his path took him away from the nearby river, he grew increasingly grateful for the fact that he’d learned to hunt on land out of a desire to go on self-sufficient expeditions into some of Kanateka’s denser jungles, while most of his people never needed to ply anywhere but the waters for their food. Being able to use his watershaping to coax drinkable water out of the local plantlife was a gift from Yaien too. Literally, in this case.

By the third week, when he was drawing close to his destination, he had a newfound respect for how anyone managed to survive this far from the ocean. However, it still didn’t make sense why anyone would want to.

He made his last camp stop for the night - or what he presumed would be his last stop, at least - in the depths of a stretch of woodland that his map didn’t give a name. The next morning, he judged that he’d emerge from the woods out into the stretch of open land where he’d find the Dragon’s Den waiting on the edge of yet another forest.

That was another thing about inland. There were far too many forests. Whoever said that the ocean was boring and featureless clearly hadn’t spent that much time looking at the ten-billionth dull brown tree trunk along a hike. At least the ocean was bright, and refreshing. Most of these trees were dull and gnarled, like a sunburned old man’s elbows!

“You hear that, trees?” he grumbled to himself as he lit a fire and started fashioning a spit to cook the rabbit he’d caught earlier in the day. “Old man elbows, the lot of you.”

Talking to himself had also become a habit sometime in the second week, after not running into any more travelers since the end of week one, when he took the fork in the road that led him away from the next town and out into the aptly signposted ‘Beyonde’.

“Beyonde anywhere anyone would want to go, that is,” he grumbled.

Yaien’s depths, he needed to talk to someone soon or he was going to fall apart. If he arrived at this supposed inn tomorrow and found out it had all been a ruse and there was nothing there, he was going to walk straight back to Cirdan’s Haven and swear off of travelling for the rest of his life. He’d settle down with Elio and become a domestic housewife if he had to, just no more of this.

A quiet skittering noise drew his attention up to a nearby tree branch, then, where a squirrel had paused in its travels to peer down at his fire. “How do you manage it?” he asked the little furry thing. “Do you have squirrel friends and squirrel conversations? Or does your little squirrel brain just not get lonely?”

Predictably, the squirrel did not reply. A short few seconds later, it scampered away again, disappearing into the foliage.

“I’m… going crazy,” Kalei murmured. “It’s official.”

Tomorrow. It would be all worth it, tomorrow. He just had to keep his head on the right way around till then.

 

[Tiko]

Maria was seated at a campfire watching the dying glow of the embers in the dark. The fire had gone out some time ago, but she had not risen from where she sat. The battle scarred warrior could often be found in such a state, lost in her memories. The light of the embers grounded her and as long as their red glow pierced the darkness she would remain transfixed, un-moving.

To an observer she appeared calm and her expression devoid of the turmoil that rolled within. Even this new world had failed to lift her from the haze of anguish that haunted her. Her thoughts had grown darkened by the maelstrom of regret, sorrow, anger, mourning, nostalgia, and more that enveloped her over the years. The more she had tried to separate herself from the present, the more lost she became in the past.

She had become little more than a ghost, moving from place to place scarcely leaving a trace of her passing.The fauna of this world seemed to recognize a kinship with her and gave her a wide berth. A predator passing through. Prey were quick to make themselves scarce, and predators observed her from afar, content to leave her to move on from their territories and avoid direct confrontation.

She could not recall how many days had passed since her arrival here, nor had the vision that drew her here returned.

"Taima..." she thought.

The draconian warrior of Maria's visions had once stood as stalwart companion from what seemed like eons past. She was a relic from another time, another life. She was also dead. She couldn't shake the dreams though. For reasons unknown to her, Taima had reached out and was pulling her, somewhere. Where though? Why?

She tried to focus on the present, but mulling over her questions was like grasping at smoke. They slipped between her fingers as she found her thoughts wandering to battles won and lost, and times that most scarcely remembered anymore.

She likely would have remained in her current state for hours yet if not for the sudden disturbance within the dying campfire. The glow of the embers grew hotter and a red scrawl of words began to etch themselves into the air. As the words began to take form, a parchment formed beneath them and fell to the earth.

As Maria picked up the paper, the fiery words had faded and all that remained was what appeared to be an ordinary paper with a letter addressed to her. Her eyes followed the words and a frown furrowed her brow.

"What are you up to, Tamia," she thought to herself.

Part of her thought to toss the paper onto the hot embers and put it from her mind. Taima be damned. But a part of her that yearned for a life gone was drawn to the intrigue of the letter. The old draconian always did have a way of drawing out the best in people. An uncanny talent for finding what made a person's heart beat strong in the face of adversity.

She sighed at last and stood up from her place on the ground and kicked some dirt over the embers.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she said aloud as she began her trek, vanishing into the night.

___

Maria was unfamiliar with the lands she now traveled, but a mystical compass etched into the parchment of the letter guided her, and her intuition and instincts saw her safely through her journey. Used to wandering the wilds for years at a time, the weeks it took to reach her destination came and went far too quickly though.

The closer she drew to her destination the greater the sense of unease built within her. She had no cognitive awareness of how far the Dragon's Den lay, and yet there was a palpable sense of anticipation on the air. Her senses could not detect the source but the air was heavy with it. Her steps slowed as she fell to a crouch. It was the same instinct that drove the animals of the wood to fall silent.

For a moment all lay still, and then all manner of life around her scattered into the night. The air was filled with the sound of startled birds, and panicked animals. The ground tremored beneath her feet and swarm of glowing insects rose into the air from the disturbance. A small deer like animal erupted from the foliage and bolted past Maria. She did not move a muscle though, her hand resting atop the hilt of her hunting knife. In the dense wood, her sword would prove ineffective.

The vibrations faded but Maria held her position for a time longer. She inhaled deeply. The earthy smell of rotted wood and the distant saltiness of the ocean where the dominant scents, but the faint smell of smoke reached her also. Kalei's campfire was nearby. She listened too for the sounds of movement or anything else that might shed light upon what had just transpired, but only the sounds of rustling leaves and the distant ocean reached her ears. Still she did not move until the sounds of the forest began to return. The buzz of insects and the croaks and trills of the night fauna signaled her to rise from her crouch.

She proceeded cautiously though, her footsteps silent and carefully placed. The wolf in her told her to turn back and to disappear into the night, but the humanity in her was drawn to the campfire and what she might find there. Perhaps an answer to the mystery of the letter? She stopped at the edge of the darkness, just beyond the light of the fire. There was a wolfish gleam to her eyes as the flames reflected in the golden hue of her irises.

 

[Script]

The stirring in the forest hadn't gone unnoticed by the boy who slept by the campfire. While any experienced survivalist would have chided him for sleeping beside a lit fire in the open without so much as a cave mouth to ward off predators or bandits, Kalei wasn't expecially concerned about such things. Even in his sleep, he wasn't about to miss the warning signs of approaching trouble.

And so as the forest grew tense, his sleep had grown more shallow, and when that tension had finally shattered into activity, his eyes had snapped open.

Sleepily, he rolled into a sitting position, blinking around at the dark of the woods. Despite the disturbance, there didn't seem to be anything obvious happening nearby. The forest had quieted again as quickly as it had wakened. He yawned, rubbing at his eyes and shaking his head. Maybe it had been nothing?

He was about to curl back up and return to sleep when he noticed he wasn't alone. The stranger was silent, and nary a leaf whispered a betrayal of her passage, but there was no mistaking the presence of another person -- not to someone who knew spirits like Kalei did. Her spirit was a proud one, albeit one burdened by a great many weights - and they must have been heavy, if he could tell that much already. Importantly, though, while he could tell there was a wariness to her, he didn't sense overt hostility.

"Hello there!" Kalei called out, not quite so loud as to disturb the wilderness quiet too much, but loud enough to make sure he was heard wherever she was. He could tell the stranger was close by, but not exactly where she was in the darkness that extended beyond the light of his fire. "Are you looking for somewhere to stop for the night? You can come share my fire if you want."

 

[Tiko]

Maria remained silent a moment longer before she stepped forward into the light. She had the look of a wanderer who had not set foot among civilization for many moons, but she did not seem fatigued by her travels.

Her eyes shifted away from Kalei, searching the vicinity for signs of others. The lack of bedding and additional travel packs suggested he was indeed alone. His youthful appearance could be a ruse, but she did not get that impression. He was not who she was seeking she determined. Perhaps though, he had information.

"I am looking for the Dragon's Den Inn," she answered.

 

[Script]

"You are?" Kalei's face lit up excitedly. Just hearing another person's voice was a relief in and of itself, but that they were going to the same destination seemed like something close to providence. "Me too! Or, not so much 'looking' as, I just haven't got there yet. I know the way. I think we're only a few hours out? Oh!"

Another thought occurred to him, and he leaned over to rummage in his pack for a moment in order to pull out the slightly-crumpled letter, now a map, and holding it out so Maria could see it. "Did you get one of these too? I knew I couldn't be the only one! I thought I'd have run into more people by now, but maybe we're running late..."

He smiled brightly. "I'm Kalei, by the way! It's nice to finally find another person out here, I've been walking on my own for weeks..." Trailing off as he took in Maria's weathered appearance, he laughed bashfully. "I guess that's not all that long, but I'm not really used to being on my own."

If nothing else was immediately apparent about him... he was definitely a talker.

 

[Dreamless Realm]

The sound of the main doorbell interrupted Senda's sewing. Startled by the unexpected noise, he pricked a finger with the needle. It barely hurt, and a dark droplet was all that came out of the minuscule wound. He licked it clean and wrinkled his nose. It tasted awful, like rotten flesh, a sign that he should eat soon. He had been spacing out more and more lately, but at least he just worked through the missed time. This wasn't good though. He put the sewing kit aside, as well as the sock he was mending.

His lantern was on the floor next to him. He was sitting on a very large cushion. A comfortable spot for him to lay down his deer half while he worked, and his place to be in while he was in the living-room. He would rather work in a less transited space, but he also had to be easy to find and available for anything the family or their guests might need.

The artifact was a beautiful thing. With three cylinders of a transparent material that regularly spawned pixies in the tubes. When he willed it, Senda could just reach in and grab a few. His hand phased through the walls of the lantern. He took a fistful of pixies that screamed, terrified. They weren't the brightest, but they were sentient. The cerv had almost starved himself several times in the past to avoid killing them… but his Master hadn't allowed it. He shuddered, shaking his head as he remembered the man's venomous words at the time. He shoved the little specks of light into his chest-mouth. A long tongue came out of it and licked his hand clean before it started chewing. It didn't matter how many times he went through the process, it never got less unsettling. But it did make him feel better in a different way. It helped him forget what he had just done, imagine that it was just his heart beating a little bit weird.

RRRRRRRIIINGGGGGG

"SOMEONE GET THE FUCKING DOOR"

Screeched Yvette, the master's eldest daughter. She had always had a strong voice, since she was a little baby. Senda's upper ears perked up. The others must be busy. He sighed with his ears pinned back for a moment before they returned to the neutral position he always tried to keep them in. He attached his lantern to the belt around his upper waist and got up. The sock was almost finished anyway. Then, Young Master Julien could wear it again. His ugly lucky socks had been plaguing Senda and the rest of the house staff for years. And they were all plotting for the smelly garments to disappear. Hopefully sooner than later, because otherwise they would join them in their undead lives. Without the help of a ritual.

"Here lad…" Senda was given a small stack of letters and a package from an old man. It was one of those errant couriers. He signed the delivery form and bid him farewell with a nod. It was known the servants in their area couldn't speak to strangers. So he was glad the man didn't expect him to. He closed the door. The letters were color coded for each member of the family. Some servants couldn't read, and the package was for the Master. One of the envelopes was an odd color, but he just focused on the colors he recognised. He could deal with lost mail later. First, he went to Young Master Julien's bedroom and knocked very gently, as he could hear him snoring from the other side of the door. There was a red envelope for him, and he slid it under the door and into the room. The next three envelopes in dark blue were for Young Lady Yvette, he delivered them without trouble. She was in the music room, murdering her new piano key by key. The green one was for Mistress Fiona. Senda took a deep breath and knocked on her bedroom door.

"Come in~" Came her musical tone from the other side of it. He walked in, mail in hand.

"There's a letter for you, Mistress." Said Senda, just loud and clear enough that she would hear him.

"Give it to me, dear, thank you. Can you tell the kitchen staff we'd like something warm for lunch? It's getting a bit chilly. But not enough for soup!" She laughed and took her letter from Senda's hands, stroking his fingers a moment too long. She was only halfway dressed, and the cervitaur averted his gaze out of politeness and disinterest. But he didn't miss the way her eyes shone when she noticed the gesture.

"You're looking a bit withered, darling. Have you been eating well?" She asked, placing her hand on his chin and turning his head to inspect his face.

"I just ate, Mistress. I'm okay." He whispered back, just loud enough to be heard. She giggled and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. He kept a practiced neutral expression and closed his eyes. The doe did too.

"Good!, just don't forget the message for the kitchen staff when you're done with the mail, okay?. And remember, Yvette can't stand mushrooms…" She let him go, and he opened his eyes. Fiona got back to what she had been doing before.

"Yes, Mistress." He knew that. He knew them better than she did, he had helped deliver them before she even became part of the family. He had been serving the Master since before she had been born.

"You can go" He nodded and left. He ignored the pitying looks from the few other servants he crossed paths with on his way upstairs. She must have left lipstick residue on him when she kissed him. Next, he knocked on the door to his Master's study. There were black letters for him. He walked in without receiving an answer, as always.

"Your mail, and a package for you." He announced. His Master didn’t answer, instead he tapped twice on his desk with a finger. Senda walked up to him and left the two black envelopes and the package there. Then he laid down his deer half on the floor and waited. The four or five birds in a cage nearby chittered and tittered, welcoming Senda in. Because he didn't leave, his Master ended up looking at him ten or so minutes later. He noticed the green lipstick stain on his lips, clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes.

"Again? How many damn times do I have to tell her you're not a toy…" He grumbled with a disgusted expression. He took some perfumed wipes from a drawer and cleaned Senda's face. The cerv closed his eyes and parted his lips a little until his Master was done.

"Stay here while I work. Did you have any other tasks to finish before dinner?" Asked the man. Putting the wipes away.

"Mistress Fiona asked me to deliver a message to the kitchen. She requests a warm meal but not soup, and no mushrooms. I must finish mending one of Young Master Julien's favorite socks as well. I left them in the living-room while I took care of the mail." Answered Senda in a soft voice, as they were pretty close.

"I'm sure someone has put away those disgusting things by now, before they stink up the entire house. And I don't think Fiona deserves a warm meal. Mishandling a perfectly good focaria... You haven't- what's that?" He said, seeing the one white envelope still in Senda's hands. The cervitaur opened his eyes and looked down at the letter. He couldn't have prepared himself for what he saw.

"What is it??" Asked his Master again. They never got white envelopes.

"It's a letter for me." Said Senda, with trembling hands. "I didn't write to anybody, I promise! I haven't talked to anyone without permission much less given them your ad-" He flinched as the letter was snatched out of his hands and ripped open, before he could finish his sentence. He flinched but he didn't raise his arms for protection. He stayed very, very still while his other heart beat rapidly in his lower chest. Any anger dissipated from his Master's face the moment he saw the paper, though, and he let out an annoyed sigh.

"It 's blank… and most likely a joke from Julien or Fiona. I'll give them a stern talking to, pet. Don't you worry, and don't be scared when you know you've done nothing wrong…" he said. He sent the letter to the trash outside from a little waste chute on the wall next to his desk and pet Senda's head. The cerv relaxed a little and leaned into the gentle touch. He was allowed some time off as long as he stayed, until dinner. His Master had him rest his arms and head on his lap. He stroked his hair while he worked, read through his letters and opened the package. It was a camouflage cloak, infused with invisibility magic. But the order was wrong, a few sizes too big. His Master complained and told Senda to return it the next morning. That meant he would have to make a short trip to the nearest town. He almost smiled.

"Yes, Master." He said. They stayed like that, in comfortable silence until dinner time.

The little bell that announced the meal was ready brought Senda out of the lethargic state he had slipped into. Once they were downstairs in the living-room, they learned that someone had kidnapped Julien's sock. The plan was afoot!. He and the First Maid shared a look, just not quite dead enough that they both knew the other had gotten the message. Mistress Fiona complained about dinner; mango and cheese salad with croutons, sweet and sour duck feet with cold soba and steamed egg pudding. His Master reminded her that her actions had consequences. Good. Senda could do without kisses, even if he knew he should always kiss back. At least he didn't have to. This time, he didn't have to. The food smelled delicious, and he tried to shift his thoughts to any other topic. To make the undead stand in during their luxurious and delicious meals was a daily torture he didn't understand the need for. Suzuka, the First Maid, said it was a subtle way to remind them of their place. But everyone in the house had their own theory. Fiona was mad at their Master, so there wasn't a lot of family activity once they were done eating. Suzuka left to empty the trash and then retired to the room she shared with her wife, Genevieve. Senda made sure everything was in order after the rest of them went to sleep.

He was about to leave, he slept in the stables and he had some anecdotes to share with Kirelion before he was ready to rest. But the fight with Fiona must have left his Master feeling fiery and possessive, because he called him to his bedroom and didn't let him go until hours later. I should have kissed her back. Was Senda's last thought before he joined him. He would rather be stained green, from head to tail, before spending a night with his Master. A thousand times over. By the time he was allowed to leave his stomach felt so full… His chest was drooling blood. It burped little bone fragments. He almost tripped on his way down the stairs while he undid the intricate braids he had put in his hair. Fiona watched him from her barely open bedroom door. He could smell and hear her. But he didn't look at her on his way out.

Instead of heading directly to bed, he followed the houses' wall to the left. He couldn't see well from the tears, so he used his hand to guide himself. He kept the tips of his fingers on the wall until he reached the trash bins behind the building. They were empty, and he vomited into the biggest metallic bucket. Black goop came out of his chest mouth, while he sobbed. It was an arrhythmic mix of punching himself in the stomach to force it all back up, holding his chest mouth open and making it gag. He cut his fingers on its teeth and fangs several times. What came out was all a chunky mess of bones, cartilage, blood, the odd stray feather… Senda shuddered and heaved until he couldn't spit out anything else. He hugged himself, bloody fingers and all. The immaculate white color of a crinkled envelope drew his attention away from his own misery. The letter. His Master had said it was empty and he had thrown it away. But it sat on a wooden crate by the bins, and someone had tried to straighten it up a bit. Senda wiped the blood off his hands on his own fur, and left.

It didn't matter if his Master had lied to him or not. There was no point in reading random fake letters addressed to him. Everyone he knew lived in that house, if they wanted to send him a message they could just talk to him. They could order him to do their bidding. Or-or they could write him a note. The cervitaur shivered under the cold water stream of the garden's showers. They were little more than a rearranged water hose, the ones they used to wash the horses after a good walk. Or to cool them off in the summer. He let the water and some horse shampoo run all over him. He lathered, washed and scratched himself until his skin was raw and red. Then he rinsed what was left of the dirt and the shampoo. He felt much better as he trotted around the gardens and used little spells to dry his hair and fur faster. Before it was completely dry, he went back for the white envelope. He didn't open it, and just trotted to the stable at a brisk pace with it in hand. He put it inside his pillowcase.l and left it there. The few hours he had left he spent snuggled up to Kirelion, the Master's massive steed. They rested together in a bed of straw, and Senda fell asleep with the horse gently grooming his hair and fur. He scratched Kirelion's nose with affection and fell asleep with a little smile, under his herd's watchful eye.

In the morning, the horses' hungry noises woke him. The sun was rising. He had barely slept, but he had chores to do. He tended to the animals first thing, cleaning the stables. He changed their water and fed them before he released them to the field next to the gardens so they could get some exercise and socialize. Kirelion didn't want him to go. The stubborn stallion huffed and whinnied in defiance, following him around until he jumped over the fence to get away. Senda grinned, giving the surprised animal a teasing look. He was still smarter and more agile than him. His good mood persevered while he went back to the stable, to brush straw, dirt and dust off of his fur and hair. Then he picked up his lantern and a messenger bag, ready to go get the magical cloak and run to town to exchange or return it. And who'd care if the bag wasn't empty, if there was a white envelope inside?. He could not stop thinking about it anyway. Could he open it? Should he take a look at it for himself?. If nobody saw… it would be as if he hadn't done it.

"Senda" Someone called him the moment he walked into the house. Lucky for him, he could breathe easy. Suzuka stepped out of the shadows, cloak in hand. She must have picked it up from their Master's bedroom. The cerv smiled, feeling a bit emotional about it. She had saved him from having to go upstairs again. From having to see him so soon after last night.

"Are you okay? Gen saw you leave." She asked in hushed tones, because they were close by. He walked even closer, just in case.

"Gen?" He asked in return.

"She was up, smoking, when… when she saw you come out and go out the back. I'm so sorry, we didn't see it coming. We would've hidden you. You know we would've." She whispered. Senda could almost taste her worry and sadness. "It's okay, we can't always predict him. Otherwise we wouldn't still be here." He whispered. It wasn't their responsibility to keep him safe.

"Anyone who finds a way out should go without looking back." Said Suzuka a bit suddenly, grabbing him by the band of the bag he was wearing. Senda furrowed his brow, because he didn't understand.

"Yes? That's what we promised. I don't…" It had been a long time ago, when he had had more hope and less sadness in his heart. His disgusting heart. They looked each other in the eye, holding it until Senda blinked. Why the contest? Why now??. She huffed through her nose in anger and shoved the folded cloak against his chest. He grabbed it on instinct.

"Then you know what to do!" She hissed, hissed! At him through her teeth. Why was she so angry??. The undead human left and he was left there, dumbfounded. He still left before he could hear any noises of the family waking up and requiring more of his time and attention, though.

With every step away from the house that he took, the letter felt heavier. The further he was from the house, the easier it should be to stop and read it. He could go anywhere. But the neighbors knew who he belonged to. His Master's shadow was long and dark. There were few places it could not reach. Anxious and afraid, because he could feel his desire to read the letter grow, he ate pixies. He picked them one by one and threw them into the chest-mouth. He was literally carrying an invisibility cloak. Even if it was defective… There would never be a better chance. Not in a very long time. So he took a turn that surprised even himself. He crossed a creek painted in the colors of the sky. Onwards the forest grew thick and dense. It was noisier. It was comfortable and smelled of home. Senda lit a small blue flame for comfort. One became two, then three, then… too many to count. He let himself go, his laughter crystalline and full of mirth. Sitting in the middle of such a nostalgic scene, he unfolded the cloak and put it over himself, becoming one with the forest. He heard the soft rustle as he grabbed the envelope. He took the paper out, genuinely surprised to find actual words on it, and started reading.

There were tears rolling down his cheeks by the time he was done. It was confusing, overwhelming and very sad. Because regardless of how much he would love to escape and join this strange Guild… he didn't know how. So the hope they had was lost on hi- wait. He watched, his four eyes full of wonder as the words disappeared and a map was drawn on the piece of paper.

"Wait… come back." He whispered. They were his favorite words that he had read in a long long time. And this map wasn't- oh. Was it the house?. It was. It was his master's house. There was the living room, his cushion was in that corner. And there were Miss Fiona's Lady Yvette's and Young Master Julien's bedrooms. The kitchen, the service rooms. There was a red line that went from the entrance to the basement and disappeared down the stairs. He didn't know what to think. He hadn't been down there in decades, and a piece of paper had just read his mind and answered a question. The poor confused cervitaur took off the cloak, ending his childish escapade. The willow look alikes were snuffed one by one while he folded the cloak and hid the paper. He ate the envelope, he put it into his chest mouth and let it disappear. The paper by itself was more innocuous than the snow white envelope. He remembered when his father used to be the one to lift the blankets. He'd take their books and scold them firmly, and then admit he understood. He had been young, and done the same things. He wished he was there with him now. But instead, he had to put an end to his fantasy by himself. To put it aside, at least for now, and return to the real world. So he retraced his steps and crossed the little creek. He went into town and returned the invisibility cloak, did some shopping and tried to sweat out the guilt by running back to the house. Back to his Master, with a very heavy conscience and an insatiable need to know where the drawn trail would end.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. His mind was so alive that he ignored Fiona's flirting and the kids' bickering. They weren't kids anymore, but in his mind they would always kind of be that. He still avoided his Master as much as he could, with the help of Suzuka and Genevieve. He didn't look at him, his disgusting face and hands that made him want to force everything out again. Had he read the letter at all? Was it invisible for him in some way?. Had Suzuka read it??. He eyed her suspiciously the entire day, but she didn't budge and they couldn't talk about that anyway. Their master didn't care about a little harmless plotting, or Senda being comforted after suffering his cruelty and desire. But he would care about betrayal.

In the evening, the cervitaur let the horses into the stables again. He fed them, brushed them, cleaned up after them again. Kirelion tried to be stubborn and stay mad, but he didn't even last five minutes before he was trying to groom his hair and make him laugh. Senda would miss him, all of them really. His own little herd. The horses, Kirelion, the house staff. Yvette and Julien. He shamefully realized he would also miss Fiona, in a way. He would miss his master too wouldn't he?. When he wasn't a horrifying monster, he could be such a comforting figure… and the only bit of stability Senda had permanently had with him in the last 50 years. Once he was back in bed, he closed his eyes, tried to sleep, and promptly didn't.

When he couldn't wait any longer, he quietly got up. The only thing he had in hand was his little paper map. Senda nuzzled Kirelion in apology for leaving and got a sleepy snort in response. His hooves itched for him to move. So he did. He quietly walked back into the house, tense and listening for any movement. He could hear Julien snoring, and Yvette's even breathing. Fiona had found another bed partner that wasn't the Master. Poor soul, whoever it was… but it meant she was busy. And upstairs, his Master was writing or reading. Maybe both. He could hear paper and the sound of pencils scratching against it. The door to the basement opened quietly and the cervitaur quietly thanked whoever kept its hinges well oiled despite its lack of use. Stairs made for humans were tricky, especially in the dark. So he lit a small willow to accompany him. The wooden beams soon turned into dark stone. The temperature was noticeably colder. His map no longer showed the house's first floor. Now there was the basement which… was far bigger and dungeon-like than Senda could've ever imagined. But the way was clearly highlighted, so he listened to his curiosity and disregarded his concerns and followed the trail. He passed empty rooms, corpse-filled cells and what looked like various chemistry labs of different tiers. There were new smells, colors, and only one way for him to go. As much as he wanted to stop and investigate, to learn. He didn't have the time. The trail ended in a room full of very different… doors?. There were at least twenty, in many colors and designs. Made of different materials. He was apparently meant to go through a wooden door. Old, but well maintained and adorned with various metals. He wanted to see what was beyond it. And then he could get back and tell Sazuka and Gen all about it. He could- he could try to organize an escape for them all. It didn't matter if they weren't brave, daring or crafty. Neither was he!. They could start anew anywhere else. His heart was like thunder in his chest. So many possibilities!!. He bit down his bottom lip, full of nervousness, and scratched the floor with one of his hooves as he reached for the handle and-.

"Did you really think I had no way of knowing if someone unexpected came here?" His Master's voice sent a shiver down his spine. He didn't grab the handle. He didn't even turn around. He had fucked up. He knew he had fucked up really, really bad. Shit, fuck, he had been so excited about this that he hadn't even considered…

"You're not even going to try and apologize? You ungrateful, mindless beast?. You… you should be at my feet, begging." He lifted a hand and shackles appeared around Senda's wrists and ankles. He was actually forced down to his knees as his Master pulled him back with magic and dragged him so he'd lay at his feet. He dropped the map.

"How far back have you regressed in your training? My time is wasted on you. So useless…" he growled, nudging Senda's face with his boot. He kicked him in the face and then pressed the sole against his mouth. The cervitaur whimpered in pain and closed his eyes. He was shaking with fear.

"Kiss it, lick it" The man ordered, and he did.

"That's it, good focaria, deep down you know where you truly belong…" The cerv stopped shaking. He gritted his teeth. Now that he knew freedom was a possibility for his herd and for him, he wouldn't back down so easily.

His eyes, all four, opened with a new flame of determination burning in them. He broke the chains around his wrists with an enraged bellow. Just like a beast, he bit down on the boot that had been shoved against his face. He rejoiced in how surprised the other man looked and grabbed him before he could recover. He put one hand around his ankle and the other on his knee and pulled him closer. He made him lose his balance. It just made it easier to get his boot off and shove his foot into Senda's chest mouth. His master screamed in pain as it started chewing.

"Wait, WAIT NO, NO, STOP PLEASE STOP" He howled and hit him several times, trying to pull away. But it was alright, he wasn't doing it on purpose. He was in so much pain after all. His leg slowly disappeared into the cervitaur's chest. Senda finally shoved him back roughly when he had devoured up to the middle of his thigh. By then the poor man had passed out from the pain and fear. Judging by the smell, he had pissed himself too. The cerv healed what was left of the leg and left him with a stump. After all, lessons were lost on the truly dead.

Senda had just picked up his map when his ears twitched. He could pick up some noises, others were coming to investigate the screams. He sighed and got up. His stomach felt so full… as always after a night with his master. The cerv snorted, he had to go, now. There would be no goodbyes for him. He started crying, unable to and unwilling to stop the tears. He broke the rest of his chains and ripped off bits of them. But the shackles were a different story. He didn't have the time. He grabbed his Master's cloak to cover his chest with since it would be so easy to recognize and wrapped it around his torso a few times. In a hurry. Then he rushed to the door and opened it, white and blue light engulfed him completely as he passed through it.

The embers of the fire that had fueled his revenge didn't make it to the other side of the door. It was cold, dark, and he could hear a river nearby. River. He made his way over to it having no idea where he was, and checked his map under his lanterns' light with shaky hands. The trail continued in a new direction. He didn't have anything else than that, so he'd follow it. He would, really, after a bath. He had blood and more stuff to wash off of himself. He carefully left his lantern over the map so it wouldn't fly away with the wind. He unwrapped his chest and cleaned himself thoroughly in the river. Then he came out, using his easy little spells to get his hands dry at least. Before he grabbed his lantern and the map. He wrapped his chest again in the dark fabric of the stolen cloak and got moving. He stayed on the edge of roads and forests, like a ghost. Away from eyes, avoiding people, eating only pixies. He was terrified that the moment he stopped, his master would find him. Eventually he would. To make him pay for the leg. Senda both regretted and didn't regret his actions. What he didn't do was vomit. This time he made sure he didn't waste the food. It was the one time he had taken something back and he wasn't going to throw it away.

Hours of travel turned into days. He never stopped moving once he started. He mainly avoided villages, but did investigate one very late at night. He stole a shirt. An old brown shirt of good quality material that could be opened in the chest without taking it off completely. He suspected it was for breastfeeding.. But it worked for him as well, so he substituted the cloak for the shirt. He also stole an old messenger bag that he could use to hang his lantern from. The band had been broken, and he fixed it so it'd last a little bit longer. He wasn't proud of becoming a thief but… he also didn't want to show himself to these people. So he remained as a ghostly figure among the tree lines. He had seen some variations of humans. Like different flavors that he had never seen before, and he was intrigued. But no centaur or monsterkind. At least not yet. Now he was close to the inn, he suspected, and he could see human fire in the distance. Directly on his way. So he quietly and carefully approached it, with his lantern
s glow muted to avoid detection. His ears perked up and he sniffed around in case it was dangerous.

 

[Tiko]

Maria glanced to the letter in Kalei's hand before pulling a worn and folded one from where she had it tucked into her belt. She could easily press on through the night she thought briefly at the news that her destination was only a few hours off. But the talkative youngster could perhaps prove a useful source of information before she reached the Dragon's Den Inn.

"This place. What is it called," she asked.

She frowned at the vagueness of her own inquiry as she tried to elaborate. Conversation was not one of Maria's strong points. She had spent far too many years in her own head where the need for explanations did not exist.

"This world," she added. "And these lands."

 

[Script]

Kalei blinked a few times while processing the stranger's initial question. He was halfway through wondering whether the forest had a name before she clarified, which only perplexed him further. "This world?" He repeated back, tilting his head. Was this stranger someone who could walk between the realms? Surely that was the only reason you would ask such a question. Kalei remembered stories of people who had journeyed into the realm of the dead in search of lost souls, or sought to ascend to the heavens to beseech the gods of the sky, or even crossed over to the realm of spirits, but he'd assumed most of them were metaphors.

"This is... Aiyana?" he ventured after a moment. "The land of the living. That's what my people call it, at least. As for the lands, we're on one of the great mainlands, Noldorin. I don't think there's any people who live nearby here, though. If the forest has a name, I don't know it! We're just in the great wilds, a long way from any towns or anything like that. It's a weird place for an inn, don't you think? There's not even a road or anything!"

Kalei shook his head and sighed. "Mainlanders really don't make any sense with where they build things."

 

[Tiko]

"I see. I am Maria," she replied. "What do you know about the lett-"

Maria broke off as her senses picked up on the sounds of something approaching. It moved quietly but the soft rustle of the undergrowth gave away its location. The scent that reached them upon the air was unfamiliar to her, but that was not unusual in this strange world. There was a great deal of flora and fauna that were previously unknown to her. Where others may have mistook the rustle of plants for the wind, Maria's lack of familiarity kept her sharply tuned to her surroundings for signs of unfamiliar dangers. She turned her head slightly to one side to better track the sound of the approaching animal. No, not an animal she realized. There was the sound of metal links. It was a sound she knew all too well.

"Do you travel with another?" she inquired of Kalei without looking back to him.

 

[Dreamless Realm]

As quiet as he tried to be, Senda's chains gave him away. But he was so used to the sound by now he didn't notice he'd be so obviously out of place to anyone with a sharp ear. It had been a while since he was last in this kind of situation, sneaking around, living on his own. How long would his former master take to come take him back?. He sighed, knowing he shouldn't think like that. He was free now. Free.

Now that he was closer, and he could see them, in the orange firelight.. who were these humans?. He was still concealed from their view, in the darkness of the forest. A grey-ish face in the shadows, with two sets of eyes that would reflect the fire's light. Should he come out? What if they were scared or... Attacked him?. He'd keep watching them for a little longer at least, leaning against a tree. He focused again, alright, okay. What were they talking about?. The land of the living? Other travelers?.

 

[Script]

"I wish," Kalei huffed a sigh, shaking his head. "No, whoever's out there isn't anyone I know." Staying seated, he leaned to one side to peer past Maria into the dark, locking gazes with those pale eyes in the dark. After a brief moment, he smiled brightly - he didn't find any hostility in their gaze, or in their presence, even if they did feel quite strange. "You don't have to stay out there in the dark! There's plenty of room around the fire!" he called, lifting a hand to wave.

To Maria, he added "I don't think they mean any harm. Maybe they're here for the same reason we are?"

 

[Dreamless Realm]

So much for hiding... Senda let his lantern come to a full shine again, bathing him and the trees around him in a cold blue light.

"I don't mean you any harm, no..." He said, speaking softly. "Uhm. Thank you for the invitation" He added, as he came out of the forest slowly, to join the two humans. As nice as the young man was trying to be, Senda didn't have it in him to smile back. His chest was covered, and now... Well. Now he would find out how common monsterkind was in this world. Or at least centaur-like creatures.

He stood a bit awkwardly a few steps away from the other two, messing with the shackles around his wrists. Just in case they wanted to withdraw the invitation.

 

[Tiko]

Maria gave Senda the same silent inspection that she had given Kalei. The new arrival did not portray any hostility in their body language and they certainly didn't move in a predatory manner. She did not let her guard down though. These days danger could come in many forms, and not all of them deliberate. The shackles upon Senda's wrists suggested he had escaped from somewhere, or something. And that something may well not be far behind his trail.

The idea of remaining stationary by the fire for the night ran contrary to her instincts to keep moving, but neither could she ignore the likelihood of the three of them crossing paths at this very moment so close to their destination. Ever suspicious of the machinations of the godly beings of her own homeland she couldn't help but suspect that this was not happenstance.

Her own body language didn't suggest aggression. She was tense and ready to act but not blindly so. The way her eyes moved with intent and the subtle shifts of her head to better pick up distant sounds from the woods reflected how keenly aware of everything around her she was, but in a way that suggested she was calculating rather than reactive.

"Are you being followed?" she asked.

Greetings and pleasantries were lost on her.

 

[Dreamless Realm]

Senda swallowed, hesitating. What did he know? Was he being followed? He didn't want to lie about it, not when it was so obvious.

"Not... Immediately, as far as I know. But I think there will be someone looking for me in the near future if they aren't already." He said, even if it was for his own detriment. His ears hung low, all four of them, and he looked down, embarrassed by what he had just admitted. That he was a liability, and therefore not the best companion to spend the night by.

 

[Script]

Kalei's eyes had widened a little when Senda emerged from the darkness. He'd heard stories of half-horse creatures, and had plenty of encounters with the merfolk whose lower halves were those of the creatures of the sea, but never any that had an extra half a head on top of their own. He might have mistaken it for a headdress were it not for the fact that its ears and nose moved just as if it were alive. It took him a moment to realise he was staring and blink, pulling his eyes away and back to the rest of the new arrival.

His brow furrowed when he noticed, as Maria had, the stranger's shackles. There were only a few things that could mean, and none of them were good. "If you're in trouble, all the more reason to stay with us," he declared firmly, then paused for a moment to think. "As long as you're not a runaway criminal or something... then we might have to talk about what you did before that," he added more hesitantly. "But if you're innocent, no way I'm gonna let anyone cause trouble for you while I'm around. My name is Kalei, I'm-- uh... a traveler. And this is Maria! We just met a minute ago, but turns out we're both looking for the Dragon's Den 'cause we got invited to join an adventuring guild! Did you get an invitation too? I can't think of many other reasons anyone would be out here. Oh, and what's your name?"

 

[Tiko]

Maria scowled, an expression easily mistook as directed at Senda. In truth though she was scowling at her own inner turmoil. She could press on and finally have an answer to what lay at the conclusion of this journey or she could remain here for the night. She was restless these days and struggled to remain in one place for longer than necessary, but these two hardly looked fit to be surviving out here on their own. There remained still the mystery of the quakes that had shaken the forest.

She offered no further words to the pair and instead turned away from the cervitaur. Her acceptance of Kalei's invitation was made apparent as she seated herself at the edge of the fire's light where she could better see into the shadowy darkness of the trees beyond. She did not sleep much these days, and it kept the dreams at bay to simply remain awake.

She left the matter of Senda's predicament to Kalei, seemingly indifferent towards the pair as she let her attention shift to the distant sounds and smells of the forest.

 

[Dreamless Realm]

Shit, the woman scowled and turned away. And Senda didn't know what to say. He probably was a criminal. No, he was, he definitely was. He had stolen and he had hurt his ex-Master. But his actions hadn't been committed because he enjoyed them or wanted to hurt anyone. The young man's attitude kinda reminded him of his brother Klaus, before he turned bitter.

"I... My name is Senda. Senda In Verno. But call me Senda... And..." He scratched at the ground with his front right hoof and flicked his ears. The doe kept her eyes on Maria while he addressed Kalei.

"I've had to do some things I'm not proud of lately, in self defence. I got a letter, and I want to get to the Dragon's den as well. I don't know how the letter itself got to me though. I've been an unwilling servant for the past uhm, 50 something years.. My former master and I, we didn't part in good terms." The orange fire was unsettling, maybe they'd let him change the color if he asked nicely. That was if they let him stay of course.

 

[Script]

Kalei's eyes widened slightly. Fifty years? This person had been a captive for more than twice as long as he had even been alive. The thought was almost enough to make him queasy. "Anyone who thinks they can 'own' another person deserves whatever payback they get," he stated firmly, his face an indignant scowl. "The gods didn't make the sky so big just for people to be kept from whatever part of it they want to walk under."

The bluster and quiet anger lingered only for a few moments before he let out a measured exhale, tempering his feelings. He didn't want Senda to think that he was angry at him, after all. Once he'd taken a moment, he smiled to the deer-taur again. "Seems like we're going the same way, though, so you should definitely stay here for the night to rest! We can all head to the inn together tomorrow."

His eyes slipped down for a moment to the shackles, and his brow knit together again. "Do you want me to help you get out of those? I know a couple neat tricks for picking locks, if you'll let me."