Dead in Daylight Part Two

Ash

As I left my bus behind and began the last leg of my trek to Lake Whitetree, I thought about how this would be my first time doing field work alone. As an apprentice, I spent most of my early months working with veteran experts and other recently certified archaeologists. It was on one of these group expeditions that I met my love, offering his usual services as an escort to the scholars. But how I could ever have done this before him seemed to escape me just then.

The lake was silent but for the morning bird songs coming from the trees to the west. I had beaten the weekend tourists who tore up the lake during the day and could not have expected anyone else to be there. But for the beacon that researchers had given up on ages ago, the lake was just a lake. It provided water for Blackstone Farm--and possibly some elven settlements on the other side of the border-- as well as the perfect climate for an afternoon playing in the water. In happier times, I would already be dressed down for a swim because Nathan would never have let me get any work done otherwise. But on this still morning alongside the great lake, I was free to focus as much as I possibly could.

The beacon had fallen back to its original place at the bottom of the lake due to years of neglect, but that was of little concern to me. Using a spell scroll I purchased abroad, I was able to part the water long enough to drag the ancient construct back to shore.  There was little to examine in this object-- a massive yellow crystal sealed in a tarnished cylindrical casing made from brass with spindly legs attached to it--that hadn't already been exhaustively covered in my studies, but with fresh eyes, I located a symbol in the etchings that I had been interested in revisiting. When translated from this arcane language that predates modern scripts, this particular symbol was believed to mean "blood"-- a misunderstanding that has led to many researchers cutting themselves open for the sake of knowledge. But looking more closely at it, I realized that the word could also translate to "ash".

Ash was never mentioned in any source that referred to the beacon, so I knew I had to be on to something. But this only led to more questions. Was I supposed to burn something to activate it? Was this a warning of what could happen to those who did? There were many possible ways to interpret the full line as it was translated now.

"Lost in ash, hope is found"

As I pondered this puzzling clue, I would hear a rustling in the tall grass to the east. My heart jumped as I scanned the landscape. Most people who visited the lake did so with the most peaceful of intentions, but I couldn't discount the possibility of an encounter with a wild animal or mischievous fey; no one is more vulnerable to ridgewolf attacks than the traveling scholar. The source of the noise did turn out to be a person, but he still turned out to be a more frightening sight than a hungry beast.

The man had a somewhat average build, but that was about all I could tell you about him because his entire body was covered in various gloves, shrouds, and bandages. The only physical feature of his that remained visible was his cold, lifeless eyes. My mentor, a sai'mul, told me about how her people would always soaked their body in medicinal bandages to keep their skin from rotting but this was different. The cloth that covered this man's body was completely dry and gave off no scent. Apart from that, he walked in lively strides that most sai'mul could never hope to mimic.

He walked right past me toward the beacon I uncovered. He stared at it lying there on the shoreline for a few seconds before looking right at me. The man's eyes seemed to be searching for something in my own, but he soon began to walk away. Clearly, he knew something I needed to about the subject of my studies, and Nathan would never have allowed me to let him get away. Swallowing the fear I felt at his unnerving appearance, I rushed up to him and begged his pardon while I asked him some questions. But his response left me so chilled that I hadn't even noticed him leaving.

"The dead ones cannot speak."

Dead in Daylight Part 1

Grief

The day I completed the education I needed to become an archaeologist was the second happiest day in my life, just barely edged out by the day I met Nathan. As an adventurer, it was only natural for him to cross my path as I exploring an underground temple outside of Beldor. The ruins were said to have been abandoned since the mythical Age Zero, before the gods gave mortals our independence, but that didn't matter to him. I explained that there was likely no treasure to be found, but still he remained, saying that he was there for the thrill of doing something no one else had done before then. I delighted in the irony behind our respective reasons for being there. I went to that temple to learn what people did there in the past while he seemed to have his hopes on setting a standard for future thrill-seekers.

And there were plenty of thrills to be found. These decrepit halls may have predated the technology behind even the most rudimentary of traps, but they also seemed to predate the age-old techniques of competent builders. After roughly have a millennium, there were more holes in the cobblestone floor than there were unbroken stones. We kept each other alive in this crumbling site and developed what modest people would call a deep appreciation for each other and our work. And at the end of it all, I found a treasure trove of previously unknown information about our tightly-controlled ancestors. That was how we became partners, both professionally and intimately.

This was over three years ago now, which left us two years and five months of excitement and discovery. Nathan, the one with the eye for danger, looked out for me and I possessed the knowledge to make sense of all of the places we have been. It was an ideal relationship for someone who struggled to come out of her shell like me and I like to think the context I could place our adventures in kept him alive.

Until it didn't.

Last fall was our last adventure together, across the southern sea atop the legendary Dragon Pillar. After deciphering one of the ancient glyphs that the windlords had recently uncovered, a tornado formed just above us, threatening to throw all of us into the unforgiving blue. I was the first to be picked up by the wind, but Nathan was quick to grab me. It took all of his strength to pull me to safety in the lower chambers, leaving none left for him to save himself when he too lost his footing.

The search party took a week to reach the Pillar and only two more days to give up their mission. Nathan's last act had been to save me from the inherent dangers of my work once again, but it wasn't long before even I was forced to conclude that there was no hope of finding him. I wanted to throw myself into the sea when they broke the news that they were calling off the search, but even then I could hear his voice in my head, assuring me that would be a pointless and disappointing way to die.

One thing was certain, though: after losing the love of my life to such a random calamity, I couldn't keep exposing myself to danger. What if I were to die on my next outing? Wouldn't I only be wasting the life that Nathan gave his own to save? I returned home for the first time in five years and withdrew into myself, leaving the house only to buy provisions once a week. But I could never settle into such an uneventful life for good. To do so would only tarnish the memories we made together. Last month, I decided to get back to work as I had before Nathan came along but with no clue where to begin anew.

So I returned to my old university to reconnect with my colleagues. The well-wishers and sympathetic ears were abound from the moment I set foot in the halls of my former place of learning, which was the last thing I wanted. I went back with the hope of getting back to normal, but everyone insisted on treating me as a fragile thing, just one odd recollection or insensitive statement from a complete breakdown. In hindsight, I wonder if they were right to worry about me, but since I made it through the next few weeks with nothing but a few spots of irritation I suppose we'll never know.

But still, there was only so much I could take. With no one offering me anything to latch on to besides my own misery, I withdrew my original thesis on the broken beacon discovered under Lake Whitetree over thirty years ago and began to examine my own conclusions. After so many years in the field, what I had to say about the beacon and its hypothetical function seemed rather naive. For that reason, I decided that my next project would be to dive further into this unsolved mystery. With my research already completed, I decided that my first step would be to get a closer look at the beacon to see if there was anything I or the many sources I cited in my work had missed.

But what I saw there, rather than illuminating this mystery of the decades, only exposed me to yet another.

All Gone

Took you long enough.

I'm sorry. I tried to come as soon as I heard, but the road was snowed in until just this week.

You're really not good at your job, are you?

Mind your tone, boy! I've been balancing eight different investigations since most of the spellwarriors left for the Crusade! I'm doing everything I can for dozens of people at once!

Well, you can just drop this one. You clearly can't do anything for my friends at this point and I'm sure you'll need the time for the seven cases you haven't blown.

I can't do that. Not without confirming exactly what happened.

You want to know what happened? First my friend Mel disappeared, then her brother Merric, and now their mum's gone! Nobody here has any new information for you!

That's what everyone else I've spoken to so far has said, but no less than three people have indicated that you might.

I talked to Miss Miranda right before she left. 

Well, whatever you discussed might be the only information I have to close my report. Let's hear it.

...

Joseph, do you have a moment?

Ma'am, I don't think I can tell you anything else. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen!

It's alright, dear! There's nothing to worry about.

But Mel and Merric--

Are gone forever. But I know where. I'm going to see them soon.

If you're sure about that, don't you think you should tell Sir Rain? 

Actually, I was hoping you could tell him!

Why are you laughing?

I have spent the whole winter praying for that man's success! Now I know he's never going to bring my children to me, but I'm going to see them again anyway! Doesn't that seem funny to you or have I truly lost it?

No, that's funny.

When you see that useless oaf again, tell him that my family doesn't need his help anymore. We're all going to be fine!

That book you showed me said the creature only likes children.

You misunderstood. They prefer children for practical reasons, but giving my children everything they want is what this one is supposed to do.

And they want their mum?

Exactly! It won't be long before they're asking for their friend as well. You'd best be keeping an eye out your window at night.

...

Son, you should  not--

I know! I can't speak for my friends and their mum, but there's something untrustworthy about a creature that tricks people into coming with them.

Has anyone ever told you how smart you are for your age?

I think it would have been better to ask if anyone had ever failed to tell me how smart I am for my age.

I'm serious! You have the instincts of a spellwarrior! I know I might not have been giving you the best impression of our order, but we could use more minds like yours!

Is that an offer to sponsor me for the Academy?

I suppose it is! It's the least I can do after failing your friends.

I shouldn't accept without talking to my family first, but I'm definitely interested.

Happy to hear it! We should go now. If your parents are in agreement, I'd like you to leave with me and start your apprenticeship today.

Why the rush?

I know you don't want to follow the nauveil, but if your friends wish for you to be there, the creature will adamantly pursue you. It can be both patient and persistent. I think it would be best to get you as far away from the nest as possible.

That's right. Well, when you put it that way, I'm most likely going to be joining you.

That would be best. With your friends' last connection to this village safely out of the nauveil's reach all that remains is to tell Sir Merrow what happened to his family. Once we do so, I'll take you to the Academy.

The poor man. To have spent so long fighting to protect his family from the fishmen only to find out they were taken by a fairy?  He's not going to let this go.

He'll be free to look for them on his own once he finishes his  tour and-- as my senior-- he is more than capable of doing so. I'm out of threads to clutch. I have to close the case.

I guess they really are all gone, then.

Glimmering in the Snow

You're obviously starting to crack, mate.

I know what I saw! 

And I know what you think you saw was impossible.

She was there!

She was outside your house last night, standing in the snow wearing her night clothes and no shoes? And she was.. glimmering?

That's what I said!

If what you saw was real, it still can't be her! How could anyone survive that?

She was waving to me!

I'm telling you that you are being tricked! Either by your mind or something else! 

Shut up!

Have you told your mother about this?

Of course I did!

What did she say?

Nothing. She just cried.

I guess she finally lost hope. It has been months.

That's not funny!

...

No, it's not.

I know what to do!

You wouldn't--

The next time I see her, I'm going to follow her!

You shouldn't--

I'm going to find out where she's been and bring her home! Then mum will be happy again!

Merric--

Don't tell anyone! Melany's coming home!

Don't be st--

I better go! Mum wants me home by dark!

Just stay--

Bye!

...

Madam, a moment of your time?

What in the world do you want now?

I had some information that you might find useful.

Do you know whether my daughter is well? I doubt you have anything useful to tell me otherwise!

I'm afraid her whereabouts and current status remain a mystery. But I found something that might give you some insight into what happened that night.

That sounds better than nothing. What happened to her.

Take this book. I've earmarked a page that references the creature we think might have taken your daughter. It's called a nauveil. It's a fey with a peculiar symbiotic relationship with people. They lure people to their haunts, then use their magic to placate their victims' every desire in exchange for a steady trickle of their own energy. They seem to prefer children because they are easier to please and usually have a lot longer to live.

How is this supposed to help me right now?

If I'm right, this means that your daughter is well cared for, at the very least. It's not in the creature's best interest to harm the people they take. Beyond never being allowed to leave the nauveil's dwelling, it might feel better to assume that Melany is happy and healthy.

...

I think you should go.

Pardon?

It doesn't sound like you're sure of this. It seems more likely that you have nothing and you're just here to placate me with the most hopeful theory you could find. I may know nothing of your work, but I'm not stupid.

Honestly--

Save it! Every second you spend trying to inflate me with false hope is a distraction from doing your job! I don't care what might be happening to her! Please, just find her!

I am true to my word. I still intend to find her. I just thought you could use some cheerful news.

Sorry, but it didn't help as much as you thought.

Worry Not

When was the last time you saw your daughter?

I tucked her into bed last night. Eight o' clock as always!

Have you seen anyone suspicious wandering around the town lately?

Well, no! Who would come out this far-- wait, you don't suppose it was bandits, do you?

Ma'am, that's--

Those Heronite dogs! If I said it once, I've said it a thousand times, a border town is no place to raise our children!

Mrs. Merrow, I assure you bandits have never ranged into Resta before. Even without the Desmond clan to provide a mighty deterrent, I don't suspect they would come just to steal a child from her bed in the dead of night.

Well, who else could it be?

For the moment, there remains no evidence that Melany didn't leave of her own volition--

She would never go out on her own at night, especially not in this weather!

In that case, a good place to start would be with family members and acquaintances. Most kidnappings are committed by someone the victim knows.

It can't be anyone in the family! All we've got are my husband and his mother. Dianna is too old to travel and Frederick is serving in the crusade!

Worry not, ma'am. I promise we're going to find her by magic or investigation. Your husband will not come home to tragedy. For now, I'm going to need you to tell me everything you can about your family's immediate acquaintances, those your children see most frequently.

Merric, you stay where I can see you!

...

You need to tell her about the fox.

We did! She didn't believe us!

Then tell her that Mel left to follow it!

She still won't believe me! Mel is afraid of the dark! She doesn't like the cold either!

It's been two days, Merric! Do you have any idea what is happening to her right now?

No!

No one does! And no one's going to find out unless we tell your mum the truth! That spellwarrior is just going to waste her time talking to my family! Then he's going to to talk to everyone else in the town! By the time she realizes no one around her knows where she is, it'll be too late!

I'm going to be in so much trouble.

We both are! And it's only going to get worse the longer we wait!

Can You See Through The Snow?

Did you see the Snow Fox running around outside last night?

Yeah! It was weird to see one of those this far south!

Don't be silly! Obviously, it was a ridgewolf!

Nuh-uh! Ridgewolves are so much bigger! It wasn't much bigger than a field lynx!

How do you know what a field lynx looks like?

We saw some on the way to Gran's last summer for the festival!

That was the best! I wish I could have some firecrab now!

You always change the subject! Stop doing that!

You don't believe us anyway!

Well if you did see a Heronite Snow Fox, what do you reckon it's doing in Resta?

I don't know! It was kind of just poking around for something in the snow!

That's not all! It looked up and saw I was watching it and it just stared at me!

Animals do that when humans are looking at them. It must've thought you were going to attack it!

I wasn't, though!

Oh, I'm sure! But the animal wouldn't know!

I think it did, though! We stared at each other for a long time. Then it started to spin!

What do you mean "it started to spin"?

It was just walking around in a circle! It always lowered its head when it faced my direction, but lifted its nose when it was looking to the north!

Maybe it wanted to show you something! Did you see what it was pointing towards when it was looking up?

Ridiculous! There was a blizzard last night! Can you see through the snow?

Lenny's right, brother! I couldn't see anything!

Maybe it wanted you to follow it!

In a blizzard?

Argh! You're right! Why couldn't it come when it was actually safe to go out?

I heard Snow Foxes are tricksters. It was probably only trying to lead you to your death.

And what if you were right about it being a ridgewolf?

If it's a ridgewolf, it could be a spellwarrior's companion, trying to lead someone to their master in distress. If you see it again, you should just tell your mum and be done with it.

But what if it's something else! Mum told us about a wolf that led a girl just like you to a legendary spear that she used to hold back the worst blizzard in history!

That was just a bedtime story, Merric! Don't believe everything you hear!

If it was a snow fox, it has to be here for a reason! If you see it again, you HAVE to follow it!

I don't know what I'm going to do yet, or even if it's even going to show up again! No sense arguing about it now!

Mel's right! We're here for a game! Now... whose turn is it?

Tales of the Starlight Crusade: The Watch List

The walls of the Morta nearly vibrated with activity in the midst of its pre-launch testing. Between the hum of its engines and the frantic pounding of footsteps from Restan soldiers still working out where they needed to be, this was the only time Ellie could get aboard unseen. As the vice-captain of the fleet's recently-designated flagship, she could have requested access to the information she required easily through the fleet commander, but the captain she was dealing with was quite tricky. Going through the normal channels seemed like the thing any Avatar would insist on, but with two so firmly opposed, she couldn't trust any information Captain Maloran freely gave her. The Archknight had to be making moves against Tir ever since she began to insist her mentor's betrayal was not dealt of his own will. There was no way she could find evidence by demanding to see his files upfront.

The Windlord stopped just before entering the Tactical Information Terminus to apply a new Lightbend mantra to herself before she became visible again. Then, she took in a sharp breath and rushed in after Clint, the Morta's own vice-captain, just as they had arranged. Every move she made had to be perfect. Even if Sir Maloran lacked the fully-honed senses of any other spellwarrior, he would more than make up for it with a mountain of external security measures.

Esia, she quickly murmured, causing her eyes to glow with the magic that would allow her to see other magic.

As she thought, the walls were lined with similar glyphs to the one inscribed on her mantra. Hugging the walls would probably dispel her magic and make her visible once more. Worse still, she also spotted magical-cantrips on the ceiling which were likely invisible to the naked eye. These traps would probably spring on any cluster of magical energy that passed beneath it. This explained the sign outside forbidding the use of magic on the bridge, which was ironically unique to the ship owned by a kingdom that virtually founded the practice of magic. Ellie wanted to curse as she studied the area above the captain's chair. It was surrounded by these traps, so approaching it herself or even collecting the tablet she so desperately needed with her wind powers wouldn't work.

Carefully maneuvering around the cantrips, she sneaked into the launch bay for the Voidwalker and Hermes armor units and opened one of the lockers within. Inside, she found the uniform for a bridge officer that would suit her needs. She removed her own yellow-trimmed coat and sash and replaced it with the white-trimmed coat that was specific to this ship. Then she removed her mantra and applied a quick glamour to make her hair dark brown, thinking that the rampant use of such magic would be enough reason for the Archknight to make an exception for it. With a more presentable appearance, she strode back onto the bridge casually, but with purpose. Sure that no one was paying attention to her, she made a beeline for the captain's chair. Gyanda nearly turned in her direction as she passed, but was quickly distracted by Clint, who had stopped to ask him something about the navigational synchronization tests that she herself would be involved in later.

Ellie picked up the command tablet and, with the code she was supplied by Clint, scrolled quickly to find what she needed. Within moments, she found the security code that would allow her into the Captain's Office. She then swabbed the chair with a blank Identify mantra and returned to the launch bay to retrieve her original uniform and apply a new Lightbend mantra. She then crept surely through the ship until she found the source of her quarry. With the Identify mantra wrapped around her wrist, she punched in the security code and, with the panel believing she was the captain, the door slid open.

Rifling through his files was full of enlightening information about the Restans who served on the Morta's crew, but that was not her concern. It would take her ten minutes, twice as long as she would have liked, to find what she was looking for. Here, sandwiched between two innocuous personnel files, was a list of some crewmembers from across the fleet that Gyanda had marked as potential sympathizers of the so-called "Betrayer". The Commander's name topped this list of course, she found her own name as well as that of Clint plus dozens of Galeans, Restans, and Tanisians all helpfully coded by which ship they served on. Curiously, she found the name of an S-rated soldier known only as Bolreck who was serving as a mercenary for the Amologra. As far as she had been able to gather, Broger had never had any contact with this man, but her investigation only went back fifty years. Could the two sai'mul have met each other in life? If so how did Gyanda get access to this information before the windlords?

Troubled with the notion that Gyanda might have been any number of steps ahead of her, she put the list to a Copy mantra and escaped the ship as quickly as possible. Though this list didn't say much about the Archknight's plans, what she found needed to be reported to Tir as soon as possible.

The Robber Was Slain

To Grand Master Blackstone:

As ordered, I have dispatched twenty of my knights to Seres in pursuit of the fiendish witch referred to as Annette Skye. I shamefully admit to my skepticism that it was necessary to send so many and am humbled to report that of the twenty men and women I have sent, only one has returned. There is solace in the report of the lone templar to return from this mission, which is that not all of them were killed in the attempt to apprehend their foe. It seems that the many months of practice we have allowed the Robber in Robes have caused her power to grow to the point of corrupting even some of the most devout men under my command. Per your instructions, I hereby relay the report of the knight, Sir Reginald Hawke, who shall be commended for his exemplary work in the Gods' names in accordance with the Southriver Charter.

The company reached Seres little over an hour past the dawn of the second day which followed their dispatch. Their leader, Knight-Commander Gerald Marle ordered a stay of our customary purge protocol out of misguided concern for innocent civilians. There was some disagreement from another Knight-Commander in the unit, one Elizabeth Winstrom. She felt compelled to remind her colleague of the dangers of dark magic as well as the very necessity of the purge protocol. For the record, I must express that the ensuing discord was quite understandable for it is unclear which idea is more entrenched in our order: the sanctity of Crane's holy city or the absolute prejudice with which we must handle dark magic. An accord was reached on the premise that to purge a holy city required acknowledging that the gods could not protect their most favored settlements, which would be a stain on the honor of us all. However, this dispute was all that was needed to alert the witch to their presence; a sad punishment for their sin of imprudence near the seat of Crane.

Sir Hawke was the knight who was dispatched to gather information on Madam Skye's whereabouts. It was only through this miracle of happenstance that he happened to be separated from the group when the Robber in Robes saw fit to ambush them. Upon returning with knowledge of the heretic's location, he arrived just in time to witness what transpired. Before Hawke could intervene, the witch used her dark magic to corrupt Knight-Commander Marle with an uncontrollable lust for her, which she exploited to manipulate him into turning his blade on his own men. Sirs Ronald and Bartholomew Whitetree, Sebas Gold, and Lady Martha Desmond were all felled in the initial attack. In the heat of the moment, Knight-Commander Winstrom struck down Marle before he could harm anyone else. Unfortunately, it was she who was selected as the next victim of the witch's magic. She was afflicted with a powerful rage and unable to stop herself from striking Sirs Harold Midas, Grant Harret and Ladies Reina Midas, Victoria Whitetree, and Gloria Desmond with this unnatural wrath. It took the combined efforts of Sir Matthew Blackstone and Lady Pomona Clark to defeat the second Knight-Commander, but they both sustained mortal wounds in the process. In a fit of desperation, Lady Rosaline Gold tried to finish off the witch only for the latter to afflict all five of those who remained in the room at once with an unholy tide of magic. 

Screaming her disappointment at this embarrassing failure on their part, she left each of them groveling pitifully for the touch of her flesh. This included Sirs Anthony Winstrom, Red Desmond, Wendell Clark, and Ladies Clara Gold, and Emily Clark. Sir Hawke, who remained unseen up to this point managed to strike the witch down unawares with a blow to the back of her head with his mace. He then rushed to check on the survivors, but their corruption was sadly so complete that they could do little more than flee at the sight of him. He enlisted the help of the Town Guard to apprehend these corrupted templars and deliver them into the Grand Temple of Crane where they are currently being treated. The body of the witch was also taken by the clerics of the temple, citing a desire to study any trace of residual dark magic in hopes of developing an effective countermeasure into the future.

The only thing that troubles me more than the tragic loss of fourteen of my greatest knights is the result of Hawke's search of the witch's home. There he found a second set of bedding, but no clue in regards to who had previously used it. I have dispatched more men to watch the house in secret in hopes of spotting this potential accomplice, but no one has been seen going in or out all week. While we do not intend to leave Seres without a templar presence in the near future until we discover who was staying with Madam Skye, the fact remains that the Robber in Robes is no more. Thus, I am happy to declare the Gods' will has been carried out on this twelfth day of Serda in the thirty-first year of the post-war age.

With Both Pride and Regret,

General-Commander

William Skye

I Know What You Did

Dear Mother,

You must be surprised that I have chosen to write to you. The truth is that, despite everything, I am not sure why I am even bothering to do so. It may be true that I accepted all of your lies when last we spoke, but surely there must have been a reason you asked me to write you only in times of desperation. Perhaps this is a desperate letter. I cannot truly hope to accomplish anything by writing to you, but the smallest part of me wishes for any of what I have learned about you to be falsified. I hope that the irreparable damage you have done to our family, and now Auntie Deidre's, was the worst of your crimes. But, as I understand things now, this may be hope against hope.

You see, I have heard rumors that seemed to follow you back west. Stories of lives ruined by violence and base depravity that defy explanation. People have started to change in this land and the most damning thread to connect each of these events is the fact that they all began after you left. Once I began to consider this fact, which should be little more than coincidence in a fairer world, what happened to us began to make more sense. You told me you had to leave because father was unfaithful to you. I didn't want to believe what I heard, knowing what I did about the good man I knew my father to be. From the lips of anyone else, I wouldn't have. I now suspect there may have been some truth to that. Father has brought many women to his bed since you left while professing attachment to none of them. What one could interpret as the acts of a philanderer who was liberated by the revelation of his true self seemed oddly similar to these haunting tales from across the country. Such a condition seems to be an isolated case in the capitol, but placing him at the fore of the list of the warlock bandit's crimes works a little too well.

Of course, this is a purely circumstantial claim, so I had to find out more. Thus I decided to look through that trunk you left behind. You did well to hide it considering what was inside, but you did not do well at hiding it. I discovered all of the notes you had collected as well as the documentation of your earliest experiments. There is an entire book's worth of secrets about "dark magic" here! I am horrified to now know what this is and you should be ashamed of the interest you took in it. You can't just meddle with the Gods' designs however you please and expect there to be no consequences! We were all made to perfectly suit their needs and what you have been doing perverts their goals. I cannot look the other way!

That is why you will no doubt be seeing knights of the Blackstone Order soon. In fact, another reason I am sure the writing of this letter is futile is that I am writing it after I have made them aware of your malicious deeds. Thus, you may never find this letter. On the off chance you do, however, I want you to know that I am ashamed to call you my mother. To me, you are now only Annette, the Robber in Robes. It is with some hope that I expect the clergy can undo what you have inflicted on Father and all of your other victims. But for me, things can never go back to normal because I can't stand the idea of ever seeing you again. If you come near Father, Ronald, or me again, I will not hesitate to summon the templars again. May you burn in the Forge for this!

With regret,

Cecilia Skye

Tales of the Starlight Crusade: What We Fight For

Absolutely hopeless. These words bubbled beneath the surface in the minds of Elidol and each of his companions for two years. No one dared to utter them because giving up hope was the only sure way to ensure their demise. But there was no other reason not to. After fighting the odds for so long, waiting for someone to find a way to cross the void of outer space and rescue them from Mennon, they all had so little left. Some bore this better than others. Eione seemed bored all the time, but reasonably focused on studying every corner of Saganta City. Harley always seemed to be having a good time since he figured out how to brew alcohol with local sea fruits. And James was always getting into trouble with one of those two.

Those three did a lot better at concealing their stress than anyone else. For his part, Elidol faced a daily struggle to keep his nerves in check. Many would consider these attempts to be a failure, however. To others, it always seemed like he was in a perpetual state of rage. While it was true that anger motivated him to come to this saltwater globe in the first place, he scarcely had time to think about his mission to punish Broger for his betrayal. Being trapped beneath an endless ocean with his friends and surrounded by enemies was a much more critical concern. It didn't help that everyone had somehow misinterpreted his focused intent on surviving long enough to get his revenge as leadership.

This didn't stop him from facing the challenges that his comrades and enemies alike laid in front of him. Several days without sleep had found him incredibly irritable and anxious. The last time he'd gone this long without rest, Ekera had held him down in bed to force him to sleep. But there was no shortage of things to keep him up. This time, it was a damaged water purifier. This was a device that Shar and his renegade Sho'kai followers had no use for and only Aennin had the expertise to maintain. But she was consistently busy with every other machine that the Comalanians needed to survive this other world. This left him with the responsibility of trying to learn everything she knew.

It wasn't always successful.

"No, no, no! The other way! If you tighten that crank too much with those gorilla arms of yours, you're going to break it!"

After all of his angry outbursts, there were only three people left with the guts to say speak so boldly to him. Aennin always seemed to have a bit of a death wish, so she didn't seem to have any reservations with testing his patience.

"I'm going to crank your head one of these days," Elidol grumbled.

Aennin sighed and dropped her socket wrench. "I'm sorry. I know you have a lot of other crap to worry about. But you need to loosen that. We want to drain this entire valve so we can clear out the gunk."

"Right," Elidol said with exhaustion as he turned the crank in the opposite direction.

"You know, no one really expects you to help me with this," Aennin said as she leaned back against the wall from her perch on top of the drainage tank. "There are plenty of people here who don't have anything better to do. Why do you feel the need to be involved with everything?"

"Everyone else is too miserable. I don't want to pile extra work on top of their torment," Elidol grumbled. "The only two people who could use the extra work are the drunk and your ward."

Aennin nodded and threw her arms behind her head. "Eione would definitely balk at something like this. I don't even think telling her she's the only one smart enough to trust with assisting me would help."

"Kaleth doesn't seem to be busy," Elidol grunted as he removed the valve he was instructed to. "I'm sure he'd be most willing to help if it means spending time with you."

Aennin chuckled. "If you leave us alone together, I guarantee nothing will get done. What about Volt?"

"If you want her help, you can ask her yourself," Elidol said with a sigh. "She really misses Gyanda and the fact that I look exactly like him has been making things kind of awkward around her."

"Yuck," Aennin said as she made a sour face. "If I catch her in a mood to talk, I'm definitely going to hear a lot about that. What about Telandra?"

Elidol shook his head as he began to kick down the loosened valve. "I need her where she is. The Sho'kai in the city are only cooperating with us because they revere her for some reason. Can't have her getting dirty and ruining her saintly image. And Ekera's out too because taking care of our food situation is a full time job. What about Desmond?"

"What's a saint without her attendant?"

Elidol sighed. "James?"

Aennin shook her head uncomfortably and Elidol immediately understood why. As useful as he'd proven to be with his intelligence gathering skills, he wasn't discriminate enough in the application of these abilities.

"Never mind him. We need him keeping his eyes and ears peeled for threats." He emphasized that last word, knowing the windlord would probably be listening.

"Well, that answers my question," Aennin concluded. "Still, it can't be healthy to be doing so much even for a freak of nature like yourself."

Elidol rolled his eyes as he shoved aside the removed valve. "I'm tired, Aennin. There's no point in denying that. But you know what will happen if any of us stops moving for even a moment. We have to survive until this fleet from back home gets here."

Aennin groaned and jumped down to the floor. "This sucks."

What Have You Done To Me?

Deidre,

I would have written sooner, but I was only just released from the stockade today. I was arrested for breaking a man's jaw in anger. I have never stricken another man before, but so much has happened in my life lately that I never thought possible. I never thought a friend would turn to ridicule me for failing as a provider and husband. I never thought you would leave us to fool around with that slut you call your "friend". I never thought I would forget about our children because I was blinded with rage.  Our world has changed so much this year and I can't help but blame you for some of it.

I was lost when I found your letter. It took you just fifty-two words to explain why you left. Fifty-two words to justify forsaking me, Jonathon, and Emily. Looking back, that was where my unyielding anger began. The idea that the past fifteen years we have spent together was worth only fifty-two words was a slap in the face. I have never hurt you, but have worked hard to keep you and the children as happy and healthy as possible. I have given my soul to make your life as easy as I could and I have given you experiences that have paled in comparison seemingly only to whatever you have with Annette. I deserved better than to have lost you, never mind to have it explained away with the paltry sum of only fifty-two fucking words!

With that in mind, I wasn't about to give up on you. I left the children with poor Clara thinking she could use some wholesome company after what became of her husband. I then took to the road when I should have been resting from my last hunt. If nothing else, I wanted to get the explanation I deserved. I wanted you to look into my eyes and tell me that this was how little our family mattered to you. But along the way, I ran into the magic-wielding brigand that destroyed Edward and Clara. I gave him everything I had so he would let me pass. I thought that was the end of it, but now that I think back, the righteous anger I felt seemed to deepen after that encounter.

That was when I found my first deer in months. What irony it was to have struggled for so long to provide for you only to find this damned creature after I had already failed. I fear this wasn't the most logical thread of thought to follow, but I became infuriated nonetheless. I chased that animal deep into the woods and may have crossed into Tanis at some point. I wanted that unlucky bastard's hide, and to take its meat to my children. But before I could catch it, we both ran afoul of a larger predator. The deer rightfully belonged to the bear at that point, but I couldn't accept that. With nothing but my bow, I fought the beast and lost.

I woke up back in the village, embittered by my foolish mistake. Within days I had become an even bigger village fool than Edward, who looks more and more like a wanton wench by the day. That was when Joseph made the remarks that caused me to hit him. The most terrifying part was the satisfaction I felt when I sent him sprawling to the ground. It was as if my mind rewarded me for indulging my anger. I don't understand what's happening to me, but I know the anger isn't going away. But who is to blame? Is it you for betraying me so carelessly? Was it the bandit's sinister magic that did this to me? Or has this anger been hiding within me my whole life, waiting to be expressed? I don't know, and I'm starting to wonder if I even need to.

So, instead of continuing my journey to confront you, I am writing this letter to express the feelings you have left me with. I'm not sure I can even trust them after meeting the Robber in Robes. But here is what I can tell you: I'd better not see you ever again, for your own safety. I will never see the children again, either. Clara is good with them and she needs them a lot more than I do at the moment. Although you certainly don't deserve it, you can rest easy knowing they're safely out of the way of the man their father has become. I can't promise myself that I won't hurt anyone again, and a growing part of me looks forward to it. If only you could see what's become of me thanks to you, you would recoil in terror and I'd welcome it.

Sincerely,

Avery Hawke

The Solution

My Dear Deidre,

I apologize for having taken so long to respond to your letter. In truth, it was initially received by Norah in the home we were to have made in the capitol, but that isn't where I am. You know how I have grown sick with disgust toward Francis for quite some time. Well, I have finally left him and followed a druidic coven back west to put as much distance between us as possible. I would have written to tell you as much myself, but my life has been ever busier since I left my family. Thankfully, my ever dutiful daughter was able to pass your words to me once I sent word that I have settled in Seres.

Life in Crane's holy city is not as grim as you describe Shaville's outlook to be. There is a food shortage here as well, which is why I do not regret leaving my children with their father. However, there is a sense of hope here that seems to come with the reasoning that these poor harvests have a cause. The Blackstones who govern these lands are certain they will find it in time and they have consistently reported every test they have attempted so far along with their results. They have so far taken credit for cleaning the waters of Lake Whitetree, bred hardier seeds for the next season, and begun to investigate the soil itself. While they still cannot guarantee a more typical harvest quite yet, everyone here understands that they are making great strides toward this goal.

You would love it here in Seres! Everyone seems to take responsibility for everyone else's well-being. My new neighbor Barton is always willing to trade meat for the cloaks I make, which he then shares with the townspeople. With their gratitude earned, I have been able to share in his bounty of whatever apples and grain they can spare. Things are still lean, but no one starves here. The only thing we seem to be lacking for here is your beautiful voice. I am certain Barton and Old Josette would happily trade a bushel of apples for a song. Bring your family if you must. Your presence is the only thing that would improve life in this city.

As for your wizard highwayman, I've never heard of him. I have been fortunate to avoid the attention of even ordinary bandits on my trips both to the Capitol and to Seres. I shudder to think what sort of evil lurks on the road now, but you can rest easy knowing that my own travels have been nothing but pleasant. Now that I am in Seres, I'm not going anywhere unless you need someone lucky to escort you out of your doomed village. You asked me what you should do and my answer is that you should get out of there before the famine claims the lives of you and your family as well! I am safe here and I am waiting for you.

With much love,

Annette Skye

The Robber in Robes

It seemed inevitable between the uninspired false start I had and the long stress-induced hiatus eating up much of the summer, but the time has come to take a break from the tale of the original Summer Festival. I will expand and conclude this story next year. For now, here's the first taste of autumn in Comalan!

Dearest Annette, 

The famine has taken many more lives since your family left for the capitol. The waters of Lake Whitetree have been deemed pure for quite some time. But while we don't feel much in the way of thirst, none of the water we have put into the ground has produced anything edible. Prayer has failed us. Nothing we say has stirred the sympathies of Chaos or Crane. Some of us have even tried praying to Serenity and Salica, to no avail. But diligence hasn't made a mark on our problems either. Avery assures me that what he brings in from his hunts will be enough to keep us and our children fed, but those trips seem to take longer and longer. I fear that he has been straying westward into elven territory for new game, but he denies it. Even deer and birds need to eat, after all. But how could they with the vegetation scarce and even the smallest creatures of the earth vanishing? It is laughable that he expects me to believe that everything is fine.

The Curse of Suffering has killed this land. There are still those too stubborn to admit this, but you and Matthew had the right of it when you decided to make a new life for yourselves with the Malorans. How I wish my husband could have listened to yours and spared us the fear and sorrow that has afflicted every day in this forsaken place. He is a foolish man whose pride will someday kill us both and leave our children to starve. 

While I certainly want you to know my regret in staying in Shaville and how I long to be with you under the king's care, I write this letter to ask of a rumor that has followed the men who come and go to hunt. Surely you must have heard in your travels of the Robber in Robes! I am told he is a man who dabbles in a most sinister magic, which he uses to extort travelers of their valuable possessions! Those who leave him a satisfying offering reach their destination poorer, but unaware of his most dangerous proclivities. Those who refuse or fail to turn over anything of value have far more reason to despair. I have told you many times of my fear of highwaymen, but to be slain is a rather common fate compared to what befalls those who meet the Robber in Robes! He uses his evil magic to twist the bodies and minds of his victims until they no longer resemble who they once were!

You may call this tale hearsay, but I have seen proof of it with my own eyes. I did not meet the Robber, thankfully. But Clara told me in shocking detail of the encounter she and Edward had with him. Clara is the most honest person we know, so I can believe her word on the Robber's existence. But I needn't have taken her word for the results of his magic, for Edward is forever changed. He who was once a decent man has taken to wandering naked through the streets, whispering flirtatious offers to all that would make you of all people blush. Women, men; it doesn't matter for all that is left of him is a wanton miser who has forsaken his poor wife and promised his body to all who would take it. And his body has changed drastically the longer this has gone on. He now lives in a form that anyone would find alluring if not for the fear his drastic changes have inspired in the village. Changes like that shouldn't be possible, but Clara assured me that he treasured only her until the day he met the Robber in Robes.

I dearly hope you have never met this man, for although I am one to talk about honoring vows of marriage, it would pain me to see you losing yourself to the influence of this brigand's magic. If you haven't seen him, you should praise the gods for such luck and if you must travel again, do not stop if you see a man wearing dark grey robes. The safety that Sunburst Keep provides is an enchanting prospect, but I am afraid to reach for it with that man wandering the roads.

What should I do? For now, I can only pray that you are safe.

Ever Yours,

Deidre Hawke

The Stone Dragon

"Blackstone!"

Karen sighed as the The Bear's shout rippled through the grounds of the monastery that shared her new name. Her husband grinned sheepishly at the call and shook his head. Karen wasn't supposed to be there, no matter who their parents were, but they were always like that. Whenever one of them had an especially interesting idea, they would find the other and begin a spirited discussion about it. The templars were used to this by now, so much so that they had begun to ignore Karen's presence in the Monastery. But Matilda Maloran had never been one to cede an inch on anything. Karen slunk away as Bart turned to face the commander.

"How many times must you be told the rules of this place?" the templar growled impatiently.

"That's a trick question," Bart replied with a stoic expression. "No matter how many times I am lectured about receiving guests, it's Karen's disregard for the rules that leads her here, not me."

"She is not the one who will pay the price if I see her here again!" Matilda snapped. "You will never be anointed as a member of this order if you cannot respect our ways!"

"My respect or lack thereof is irrelevant," Bart said calmly. "Karen does whatever she wants. That can make things difficult for her family, but it's part of what I love about her."

Matilda sighed and pressed her palm to her forehead. "Well, you had better have a talk with her if you don't want her impulsiveness to affect your future!"

"That is duly noted," Bart replied with a courteous nod. "I will have a talk with her the next time I go home."

The templar lowered her hand and nodded. "See that you do. At any rate, I have not come to lecture you! I am here to tell you that your mother is here to see you. She's waiting in the garden."

"Thank you, ma'am," Bart said blankly, making a stark effort to avoid showing any emotion. "I will see you on the training ground afterward."

Matilda nodded approvingly and left Bart to respond to his mother's summons. It was with a deep breath that he approached Sara Blackstone, who was sitting cross-legged next to a pond. There was never a figure in his life that aroused more guilt in him than the Champion of Serenity. His convictions always seemed to fail him where his mother was concerned. She seemed to sense his sharp intake of breath just then, because she immediately opened her eyes.

"Good morning, Bartholomew!" Sara said warmly. "How are you and your new wife?"

"We're getting along," Bart said as he sat down next to the Champion. "Married life can be complex between people who are so different. But what we share in common is the subject of much admiration on both of our parts."

"Would one of those things you share be the contrary opinions you enjoy sharing with the elders here?"

Logically speaking, Bart had no reason to be surprised, but his constant rows with the senior members of the Blackstone Order weren't something he was prepared for his mother to know about. He had never once felt in the wrong for asserting that blind faith was reductive and detrimental to social progress. He had learned from Sara that a religious doctrine couldn't possibly be both static and enduring. But where she had argued that her own faith was losing itself to complacency, he had been arguing that all of the religions taught at the Monastery were sacrificing credibility for baseless dogma. He had always been on good terms with his parents, but he knew that only his father could be bothered to see his point of view if so pressed.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Bart said quietly. "Plenty of people I know happen to share those opinions."

Sara sighed and shook her head. "I can't say that I agree with them, but I have always respected your sincerity. You're a good boy, but I have to ask: are you really happy here?"

Bart looked into his mother's eyes with mild disbelief, but she seemed to be searching for nothing but the truth in his own. Knowing that his candor was necessary here, he shook his head in response.

"I thought not," Sara said with a hint of sadness in her expression. "Well, we're still getting visits from representatives from the Greymont Institute. I know your father would love the peace and quiet if you could be convinced to take the Director's Chair in his place."

Bart wasn't particularly fascinated with the offer, but he was so relieved that she gave it despite her obvious disappointment with wanting to leave the Monastery that he didn't even think to refuse.

"I could do a lot more good there than I ever could as a templar," he admitted.

However he felt about the future he had just been presented with, he knew he wasn't wrong.

Tales of the Starlight Crusade: The Maulan Officer

Excerpt from:

New Age Press

Ames the 1st, 3E8

Karashartal Names Maulan as Vice-Captain

By Lyra Blackstone

FIDES- The newly established Starlight Crusade Headquarters is abuzz with anticipation as the first of its forces begin to arrive from throughout the known world. The captains of the Crusade's five vessels each seem to be in particularly good spirits as they welcome the first of the officers who will serve under them. The Avatar Atunis Astersong, who captains the Karashartal has selected a stable of Midania's most prestigious faces to help him staff Midania's vessel, from mariknights to Katrinean shaman. But none of these appointments have gotten more attention than his selection of a maulan by the name Largo as his second-in-command. Largo currently commands the crew of the mariknight flagship, the Light's Grace in the place of its original captain, Harley Rumgourd-- who remains among the prisoners the Starlight Crusade seeks to rescue from the planet Mennon. 

Even among the Mariknights' commanders, Largo is a controversial figure. When reached for comment, Captain Dan Skye of the Wavehammer elaborates, "He's been denied a promotion to captain for years because only his own captain and the Admiral [Atunis Astersong] seem to trust him. 

The New Age Press has reached out to the Avatar and Karashartal Captain for comment regarding the maulan. Astersong stresses that Largo has demonstrated all of the merits necessary for his position and has proven to be trustworthy. When told that his trust is contrary to conventional wisdom among both the other mariknights and his Restan countrymen regarding the maulans--who are said to lack free will and live only for Lady Maula's amusement--he maintained this position. 

"As someone who has known Largo for several years, I can safely say that he is a highly competent leader who can think critically and act of his own accord. If experts somehow do not believe this is possible, I would say that they need to reexamine their beliefs... We've served together in dangerous situations. On top of that, I have seen him command respect from the mariknights who have served under him. They all trust him as I do."

On the Avatar's advice, the New Age Press has reached out to Largo for comment on the controversy surrounding his appointment. Although he had a reputation for being a man of few words, the subject of his trustworthiness is something he is admittedly quite passionate about.

"I understand everyone's concerns since I wasn't born to have free will. Mortals understand that the gods have plans for them while my kind exist only to satisfy even the most petty whims of our mistress. That can terrify people who remember when she was a threat to them."

Largo went on to explain that maulans become subject to less of Lady Maula's attention as they get older. By the time they reach the age of ten, they are all but ignored. Without the wishes of the Death Goddess to motivate them, maulans face an existential crisis that will sound familiar to many of Midania's sai'mul citizens.

"The first question we ask ourselves at this point in our lives is what we exist for. When the one whose pleasure we exist to create no longer cares enough about what you do, there is no comfort that mortals can offer because we know that we are fundamentally different from them."

Largo was summoned by the First Archknight shortly before the Champion of Geos seized the Restan throne 56 years ago. Although Maulans were afforded legal protection during the early years of the Geosian Regime, these protection were rescinded when rebel Maulans banded together for an ill-fated assault on Resta's Gilded Keep. Although Largo was not involved in this attack, he went into hiding with the templars who fled from Resta and formed the Holy Key Knights.

"Geos didn't wish us any harm because his love for his sister extended to her playthings, but when the other Gods were banished from the world, she willingly went with them. When she did, she left many of us behind without a purpose for decades! Most of us who develop a will of our own as a result of our Mistress' neglect choose to throw our lives away at her feet with the hope of amusing her even slightly. But since we couldn't find her to do so, we were forced to live among the mortals until she could return. It was during that time I learned how to sail from the templars."

Largo served as a helmsman on the Holy Key Knights' vessel, the Gods' Vengeance for the duration of the regime. It was in this new life on the sea that Largo found a purpose to drive him forward when he would have preferred to die. Following the Archknight Rebellion--in which the Second Archknight liberated the Fadalians and Resta from Geos' rule-- newly-crowned Restan monarch Kyle Baldus richly rewarded the members of the Holy Key Knights who participated in Kartal Marle's quest, but only thanked Largo in the belief that he couldn't wish for much more.

"I didn't mind being passed over for land and titles and the like because I found something more important along the way. I love sailing. That's how I found myself becoming a mariknight in the first place!"

Largo managed to acquire and restore a derelict ship following the disbandment of the Holy Key Knights. With this vessel, he ran a small business that offered chartered voyages to places that mortal sailors feared to approach. Though he was still feared for what he was, he found several clients among those he claims had a "death wish." That was until he was recalled to the Temple of the Children in Foldo in the first time since the Fadalians' banishment.

"The saddest part is that no matter how much joy we find in the world or how much pain she has given us, it's impossible for us to drop our loyalty to Lady Maula completely. More than thirty years later, I was prepared to rip off my own skin for her amusement."

But Largo's summons were initiated not by the Death Goddess, but by Aennin Moonstep. Maula's Avatar would enlist his services on behalf of Lord Astersong and gift him with a more modern vessel. That was when Largo took Astersong to Midania to aid in his mission to revive the mariknights at Lady Salica's bequest.

"I took him all around the Dervish Ocean, met a man who survived from the original mariknights as a sai'mul and just... became one of them. Nobody ever asked me what I wanted, Harley just assumed that I was there to be in the new fleet. I went along with it at first because I thought it would benefit the Avatar that I was commanded to help, but when Atunis left, I stuck around because I was having too much fun to leave my new crew behind." 

Largo has reportedly been considered a valued member of the first mariknight ship to sail for Midania's new fleet. Although the mystical abilities of the mariknights of old were once unique to Captain Rumgourd, he served as the Vice-Captain of the Light's Grace due to the seniority conferred by his sailing experience until he became the highest-ranking member of the crew. His assumption of command following Captain Rumgourd's abduction has been contested by other captains in the fleet throughout his career. Despite this, Lord Astersong remains confident that Largo the maulan has earned the trust he and his crew show him and that he will be a great asset to the Starlight Crusade.

Always

The following is planned bonus content for the Death Touch book. Essentially, I will be including four short stories which detail the future of the champions. You can already catch the first of these stories, which was written about Clint a long time ago, here!

David was late.

He had stopped in for a few minutes at home to gather the costume he had prepared his presentation before rushing back to the car. His mom had promised to have it sent to his school by lunchtime. He could understand if she was too busy to be bothered with this simple errand, but that was why she paid Lisa to cover her more trivial tasks. Like being a parent!

He bundled his leather harness, whitebark chestplate and green woolen kilt into the passenger seat of his blue covered convertible and crawled inside through driver's side door. He had found the Katrinean shaman's garb on his bed, precisely where he'd left it that morning. I can't count on anybody! With a grunt of frustration, the boy started his car and backed out of the garage of the Governor's Estate at a frenzied speed. He compensated for his haste with perfect control as he turned around and sped out of the driveway and toward the open roadways of Solan. He drove recklessly through the city's sleepy traffic, driven by his frenzied terror of being late mixed with frustration at having been let down once again. He managed to avoid every one of them with ease, oblivious to how much the safety of everyone in his path had relied on luck.

It had been worth it when he parked in the underground garage of Winstrom Academy and carried his shamanic attire into the auditorium with minutes to spare. His mother would have winced to see him changing into his traditional clothes while on the run to the venue, but he didn't share her compulsion to shy away from attention. People laughed and clapped as he ran by, trying to pull off his pants from beneath the hastily donned kilt. His classmates were used to such hilarious displays, but he would be taking the secret that none of this was planned to his grave.

David was desperately upset.

But he bore his shame with a jocular grin, knowing that it would take a flawless presentation to save his cultural studies grade. He was still running at full sprint as he tore off his shirt and threw the leather harness straps over his shoulders. He stumbled through the back door of the auditorium with a sigh, with only three minutes remaining. He took a few slow steps away from the door and set the heavy wooden chestplate down against a wall to fasten his harness to the kilt. He then picked up the chestplate with a grunt and stumbled toward the stage entrance to await his presentation.

Though he was still panting at first, he needn't have worried from the moment he set foot in the building. His class were meant to be discussing their family bloodlines and their historical contributions to Resta. But David wasn't the only Harret in the class and the culture of his grandparents was far more relevant to Restans than a populous name pinned to the lapel of every generic soldier. The history of Katrine led to his mother, who had a direct hand in shaping the course of Restan history before becoming one of its provincial governors. It was going to be easy to keep the class enraptured, but his report and its delivery had to be perfect. He had been preparing for longer than he cared to admit for this. He studied at home for nearly a month to memorize every aspect of his grandparents' culture. He'd even practiced a bit of storm magic and invited his arcane studies professor for an attempt at extra credit in his class.

When it was finally time for him to present his account of the island-dwelling tribe of Katrine, David started with the moon goddess of the same name that is worshiped there. He went on to explain the shaman and storm mages who band together to protect its people from the vicious thunderstorms and hurricanes that regularly threaten the land, and the pride Katrineans have in taming such a hostile landscape. Like in most cases, all who beheld him were enraptured by his voice. He sometimes called it a curse, but he could never seriously deny the comfort he felt in the spotlight. When he concluded his story, he sighed and walked away without talking to anyone. He was sure he'd be passing cultural and arcane studies now, but he was far too tired to celebrate.

The drive home had been far less urgent, so David allowed himself to meld into the leisurely flow of traffic this time. As twilight set over the city, though, he found himself drowsy. Remembering his mother's "basic common sense" rules, he pulled over by a country road separating the estate from the rest of the city. Under the shadow of two evergreens, he sighed and tilted his head back, debating whether to take a quick nap or pull himself together. But his mind was already set on the former from the moment he stopped, so he closed his eyes.

Later, David was awoken by an urgent tapping on the window. He jumped awake with a start to find his mother standing outside, her blonde hair stained with an unknown color. He looked around and groaned, realizing it had grown quite late while he slept. There was only just enough light to make out those familiar facial features on her pale face.

"What are you doing out here?" She demanded.

David bit his tongue, holding down the urge to act on the crankiness he felt at having been awoken so abruptly and having been previously let down. He rolled down the window slowly and rolled his eyes.

"Just following basic common sense. I was too tired to drive, so I pulled over."

"Get out of the car!" she ordered.

Knowing better than to make the woman repeat herself, David pulled off his seat belt and pushed the door open slowly before stumbling out of the car, still drowsy. But before he could clear the numbness that sleep had brought to him, he was swiftly enfolded within his mother's arms. This was unusual itself, but as she pulled him close to her, he could clearly smell blood on her.

"Mum, what's going on? Are you okay?"

David extricated himself from her as gently as he could and looked her over in the moonlight. She seemed to have a hole in the leather jacket she wore and was bleeding through her lower right abdomen. The stains in her hair could more clearly be seen as blood.

"I wasn't having the best day until I found you," the mother admitted as she slumped against the car. "I've handled worse than the initial attack, but when I got to the house, I couldn't find you. Professor Hawke said you already left school, so I thought the worst had happened."

"Didn't Lisa give you the note I left this afternoon?" David said with a more subdued tone than was usual for him. "I was upset earlier because she forgot to bring my costume!"

The mother shook her head. "David, Lisa's dead. I just thought you were too!"

David went silent in shock at this revelation. Less than a day ago, he silently screamed for Lisa's sacking, but to be told she was now dead brought back the affection he had felt for the housekeeper. But more importantly, nothing made any sense to him. Who would want the famous Champion of Salica and her household dead? How did he not notice that Lisa was gone?

Mia took the boy back into her embrace. "I'm so sorry for everything! If I told you more about myself, the two of you could have been prepared for what happened today! Lisa is dead because of me!"

David struggled to free his face from the stench of her blood-soaked arm and gasped. "Why?"

"I live a more dangerous life than you've ever known," the mother said with a tearful sniff. "The biggest mistake I've ever made is trying to keep my work a secret from you!"

"What work?"

Mia shook her head and nuzzled the crown of his head with her chin. "We'll talk later. We need to get to the house and call a healer. Help me get in the car."

David nodded and hastily stuffed his shaman garb into the trunk of his car before guiding his mother into the backseat. As he began to drive once more, the Champion mumbled something so quietly, it was very well possible he was never meant to hear her.

"I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Always."

The Wolf's Challenge

Centuries of aggression have taught the members of the Karn clan one thing: if you go looking for trouble where there’s none to be found, someone will be happy to make it for you. No one understood this better than Tuya. As the sister to the clan leader, Altan Karn, her wisdom had become a vital part of the policies that guided her house. The Karns had spent many winters defending their precious home atop Mt. Phoenix from their enemies. The Piers of the west and the Crowmonts of the east had been some of their greatest adversaries while the Brokamac had been known for driving fear into the hearts of every clan leader. But the days of Pyris and battling both each other and the elements were over.

It was thanks to Tuya that Altan finally opened their home to the Piers and Crowmonts. It wasn’t that they trusted the other clans, but they had little choice but to learn to coexist. Their territory, while not completely comfortable, was more than large enough for all of them. Another thing that each of the three clans could agree on was that the Brokamac were not to be invited to these discussions. That clan was a threat the others would have happily discussed extinguishing together if the Coronosians to the south hadn’t already drawn their attention.

So, without the Brokamac to stir up the long-forgotten hatred between these families, the Karns, Crowmonts, and Piers combined their strength to form a more powerful nation. It was presumed that the Brokamac would fall in line eventually, but they did not survive to see the founding of Heron thanks to the eastlanders they foolishly tried to enslave. The news of the fourth clan’s utter decimation was met with mixed feelings, to be sure. The Piers Clan, who had enjoyed a particularly warm relationship with the Brokamac, called for war. The Crowmont Clan, who respected the Chaotic spirit of the Coronosians destroying their oppressors, called for restraint. The Karns, however, needed a long time to deliberate on this choice. With the Coronosians’ discovery of the arcane, they had become a threat that couldn’t safely be ignored, but they couldn’t advocate for war against a nation that hadn’t directed any aggression toward them.

The question of what to do about the eastlanders found its answer twenty years later. For Tuya, it had been a normal day of bonding with commoners, who the Karns particularly adored. She was sad to see the division that grew between the descendants of the original clan leaders of Pyris and those who followed them. Thus, she worked extra hard to minimize this effect by making everyone feel valued. In her conversations, however, she had learned something from passerby that her brother had not seen fit to tell her: the Lords of the Piers and Crowmont clans had paid them a visit once more. This in itself was highly unusual since Dalaska now existed as a meeting place for their three houses. 

Tuya rushed back up to the house and indeed found two carriages parked beside their own; one marked with a lapis sunfish and the other emblazoned with the symbol of a rose. Why they were here was a question with no positive answer that she could possibly think of. Fearing the worst, she burst into the sitting room and found her older brother sitting with the other lords, Torvald Piers and Borna Crowmont.

“Ah, Tuya! It’s good to see you home so early!” Altan said with a grin. “We could really use your help!”

Tuya took her usual seat beside her brother, to looks of disdain from the other lords.

“You would entrust this matter to the wisdom of a woman?” Torvald said with a scoff. “You Karns have really gotten comfortable on your mountaintop haven’t you?”

“Tuya is currently the wisest person in this room,” Altan said firmly. “As I am once again the tie-breaking vote here, she is going to have some say in what we do, whether you like it or not, Piers.”

Borna rolled his eyes and said, “Her rude interruption aside, I have no problem with this so long as we can settle this today.”

“Yet we must now waste time letting her catch up?” Torvald groaned.

Altan sighed and held out a scroll of parchment for his sister to take. “This is going to take some time. You may as well read this while the men bicker.”

Tuya unfurled the message, which bore the seal of a great Sunburst as its header. The words that followed read:

To the Lords of Heron, 

I am Hem Maloran, one the revolutionaries responsible for liberating Coronos from Pyrisian occupation twenty years ago. I am writing to inform you of my intent to join my house with that of the royalty of Necros, our neighbors to the south. What was once two weak countries is soon to become one that I hope will have the power to protect its people from any invaders. This is of relevance to you because of our previous hostilities with your Brokamac brethren. While war is not our intent, it is important that you understand the following words. Rest assured that we do not regret doing what we had to in order to save our people from yours and that this new kingdom of Resta will be ready should you decide to turn your swords in our direction once more. May you all be blessed.

Tuya frowned as she completed her reading of the short letter. She furled it once more and handed it back to her brother as she pondered its implications.

“Surely if this woman’s as smart as you say, she will agree that this is a challenge!” Torvald said insistently.

“You can’t be serious!” Borna declared with a scowl. “This is obviously a paper shield, meant to discourage us from seeking vengeance!”

“Vengeance is exactly what is deserved! Those wretches have killed thousands of our kinsmen!” Torvald boomed angrily.

“Torvald, you will control yourself in my house!” Altan snapped, a little less patiently than before. “Tuya, what do you think?”

Tuya frowned at the question, wishing she’d had a little more time to think. “I think they’re both right. This is clearly a challenge, but not one that’s meant to lead to war. The wolves are baring their fangs. Nothing more.”

“All the more reason to crush them!” Torvald said impatiently. “If we do nothing after receiving this message, it will make us look weak! Then, if they decide that killing the Brokamac isn’t enough to satisfy their rage, they’ll turn their swords toward US!”

“That’s a fairly bold assumption,” Borna said distastefully. “Would wiping out an entire clan not be enough for you in their position?”

“Their feud was with the Brokamac, not us,” Tuya mumbled. “To be honest, I don’t see why we need to consider them enemies at all. Even you have to admit that the Brokamac were unstable, Torvald.”

Torvald grumbled something beneath his breath, in which Tuya was sure she had caught the word “woman” yet again.

“What would you recommend?” Altan asked.

“Torvald is right when he says that ignoring this message will make us look weak,” she said, her confidence raised by her brother’s sincere question. “But let’s respond in a way that shows we do not fear OR hate them. I’ll be right back!”

When Tuya returned with the letter she’d written in response, all three of the lords nodded in agreement. Even Torvald seemed duly impressed.

“Yes, yes, that will do,” the Piers lord said with a big, toothy grin. “If Hem doesn’t respond to this, we’ll know his words are hollow!”

“Let’s sign it,” Altan said with a wink that was only seen by his sister.