Author's Note

Sorry for the inconvenience.

RaynDragon

He ended up disappointed in how little paperwork he got done before it was time for meetings. He sighed and set things neatly into stacks. He straightened his cassock before heading down into the nave.

The meeting times were important, and most of the priests enjoyed it. He had enjoyed it more when he had been a more junior priest. When he got down there he could already see several of the priests standing spread throughout the open central space, each talking individually to local parishioners. He saw individuals, couples, families, and the occasional small group.

There were some that he could identify as local business and landowners, and he focused his time on them. It seemed that the Duke's messenger had spread some rumors before leaving, and several had questions about it.

He remained as noncommittal as possible, confirming only that he had been notified of those same rumors, and that for the moment they were largely just that. The Gods would let them know before danger drew close, but preparations would be made regardless.

He reassured people that Ogrun would keep everyone strong and virtuous and that Theran would guide them from ill-fated plans. Kielle would care for them and Ardana would continue to provide for them. Finally he reassured that the church and its priests would help out in whatever ways they could.

They were not a people that prayed to a war god any more. He reminded the people that they had moved past that, to a more peaceful and prosperous time. The Gods rewarded those who held themselves to a higher standard than their attackers did, and that the Elar would not change that.

The ominous suggestion that he would not be there long nagged at him, and when the people had eventually left he went to the little sanctuary room to meditate for a while. It was one of his favorite spaces in the church, and he allowed himself to lose track of time there for a little while.

Chapter 3 - Niza

Her soft leather soles managed to find purchase quickly and she thanked the Gods that she didn't fall or make enough noise to catch the guards' attention as she immediately went into a crouched position again. That small moment of prayer caused her gaze to flicker briefly over the rubble of the church, which she happened to have a good view of from her current vantage point. The Elar had set it ablaze a week ago, after chaining most of the priests inside. Even from her hiding spot a few blocks away she'd been able to hear the screams. Many had gone over to the Elar then, assuming the Gods had already left them if they had not saved their priests from such a fate.

Niza turned her attention back to the task at hand. Nearly a week ago, they'd caught her friend, Maren, and taken her to one of the new "orphanages" that had been set up since the Elar took the city. Niza had made up her mind to get Maren back after hearing some nasty rumors about what might be going on inside. She knew which building it was, and had spent a couple of days watching it. The only way inside that wasn't guarded was the roof. She inched her way quietly to the edge of the one she was currently on, and took the next jump, grateful that the next roof wasn't as sloped. She still had two more to go before she got to the orphanage and the hatchway into the attic she'd seen.

It was less difficult as she got further away from the corner the two guards were on, although there were also guards posted at both the front and back of the orphanage. The last jump she would make would be the most important. If they heard her, it was all over. She would have to make a run for it and try something else. Once she reached the point where she was about to make that last jump, she held her breath and prayed once again before taking the couple of light running steps she needed to make the jump upwards to the orphanage roof.

She made it, and quietly too. Still, she stopped and clung to the roof, trying to will her heart to beat more quietly as it echoed her fear in her chest. This was harder than it had ever been in the past. Before the Elar had come, the nighttime streets of Riverport had still bustled with people. In some places, the noise of loud, drunken sailors singing bawdy songs as they moved from bar to inn room would cover any movements she might make. She normally loved the night. It was her time. The best time for sneaking about in the shadows and liberating certain individuals of their excess belongings or coin.

But when the Elar had taken the city, they had imposed a curfew. Now, the streets at night were silent, only the echoes of the Elar guards' footsteps breaking the dead of noise that blanketed over the rooftops. She spent most of her time in hiding now, fearful that she'd be fed to the thing that roamed freely in the marketplace. The group of young boys who used to work the marketplace had been either put in an orphanage or eaten by it, depending on how they'd been caught. Jink had been one of the ones eaten. He'd been a friend and a good source of information on some of the wealthier merchants when they came into town. She knew that Maren would not yeild easily and feared that she too would be fed to the creature. She'd heard it was some sort of demon. She didn't want to know anymore. She just wanted to get her friend and get out of the city.

The building had originally been a school. It was U-shaped, with a grassy lawn in the middle. The roof was somewhat gently sloped. She moved to the inside edge to stay out of sight. There was no movement in the central courtyard.

The two wings were the lower part of the building, being three stories tall, with the middle one level taller. There was light at a couple windows on that top level, but they were curtained. No one inside them would be able to see her. Their own lights would keep them from seeing in the dark outside.

She crept along slowly. The far part of the building had windows closed and shuttered. She flattened herself along the middle of her wing and peered over the edge. Windows there were also shuttered. Her best chance of getting inside quietly would be through an open window. There were some in the middle part of the school.

She got to the corner. There was an open window a little below the roofline she was on, and about a dozen feet over. Standing where she was, the building seemed even larger than before. It occurred to her to wonder how she'd find Maren.

She knew that most of the building had appeared unused. She had guessed at the area that had most of the housing. First get in, then find her, she told herself. She grabbed a spot on the rough brick wall and started pulling herself towards the window.

She crawled slowly across the wall. Her fingers grabbed at edges of bricks, and her toes found whatever purchase they could. She kept her attention on what she was doing, and she didn't stop. She reached the window. She got her foot on the windowsill.

She climbed in as quietly as she could. The room was sparsely furnished. There was a dresser and a bed, and a sleeping figure on the bed. She froze, but the figure didn't shift. She could hear heavy breathing. She prayed for no squeaky floorboards as she crept closer. She saw blond hair. It wasn't Maren.

She made her way out of the room, being especially careful where she stepped. At one point, one of the floorboards did begin to squeak, and she froze as the figure on the bed stirred briefly in their sleep. The person did not wake, however, and she continued, all but holding her breath until she'd gotten to the other side of the door.

In the hallway, there were a few lanterns lit here and there, leaving deep shadows between them. She moved into one of the shadows and stood there a moment, wondering what the best way to find Maren would be, when she heard voices down the hall. One was a female voice, local to the area, while another bore the thick accent that an Elar had when speaking the language here. She ran quickly into a corner shadow for the best cover and remained very still as they passed.

"There are still a few who cling to the old ways," the woman said. "We have separated them for special tutoring. Until they come to see the truth they will remain apart from the others."

"Very good," the Elar replied. "The dormitory seems very full. You should move some of those who've shown themselves to be devout to rooms now. Keep them nearby, the second floor just above the dormitory perhaps. Assign them roomates. Keep them in groups of four at the smallest. We will be bringing more of the ignorant to you soon."

"I will move them tomorrow, My Lord," the woman told him. "May I ask about the food situation? Our stores grow very slim to feed so many..." She trailed off, with a hopeful edge to her voice.

"We are at war, woman," the Elar said in a cold voice. "Supplies are slim for all of us. Some of the fisherman are only just now returning to their duties. I will keep your needs in mind when they return, but I can make you no guarantees. You have all allowed yourselves to be ignorant for so long that the truth can not come without its price or you will take that, too, for granted."

"I understand, My Lord," the woman said as they moved to go through a door at the other end of the hallway. "The will of Eltharn be praised, in Darnen's name."

The two continued talking but Niza could no longer make out what they were saying. It didn't matter. She couldn't believe her luck at hearing what she needed to know. Perhaps the Gods are watching over me tonight after all! She just needed a way to get to the first floor now.

She decided that the direction the two had gone would be pretty likely to have stairs down. There might be stairs in both directions, but she wanted to get done and get out as quickly as she could. She gave them another minute and followed.

The door would open towards her, which worked in her favor. She listened at the door long enough to not hear anything before she cracked it open just a little. Peeking through she didn't see any movement. There was some pale flickering light, but not much.

She opened the door enough to look through properly. The hallway was in fact empty, with one lantern at about the halfway point. There were a number of doors along both sides. It was the shadowed doorway at the end that caught her attention. Stairs!

She moved as quickly as she could without extra noise to the stairway. It was a tight spiral down. She couldn't see any light below from her angle. She listened another moment before starting down.

The stairway shaft was brick like most of the structural walls, but the stairs themselves were timber like many of the interior walls. They were solid enough to not creak, but even still each step made her nervous. Part of her expected at any moment to hear someone coming up from below.

She went down a level and there was a hallway similar to that upstairs. This one also had one lantern, but it also had an armed and armored guard. She pulled back and then edged back forward until she could see where he was.

She knew she was in a shadow, so he was less likely to see her. Still she stayed out of sight. His footsteps came closer, and her heart pounded. Please, she prayed, not now. The footsteps stopped and started moving away. She moved quickly down the stairs and away from him.

To her dismay, Niza found that the first floor had a guard in the hallway as well. She stood in the shadowed corner of the small landing, trying to figure out a plan when footsteps started heading in her direction. Oh no! What do I do now? she worried, ducking down in the small space underneath the stairs. She held her breath as this guard did come out into the landing and glance around for a moment. To her relief, he turned back again and slowly paced back the other way. After listening for a few minutes, she realized that he paced a small circuit, stopping now and again for about a minute or so, seeming to listen.

Her heart raced as she alternated between small prayers for help and attempts to come up with a plan. She knew that she couldn't sneak past the guard. There was enough light and he seemed alert enough that he'd notice her for sure. There didn't seem to be another way through the hallway, and she still didn't even know where the dormitory was at on the level yet. How many more guards are there? If this one doesn't see me, surely another will.

She was all about to give up and try to work her way back out of the building to safety when an idea popped into her head. An image formed in her mind of herself, dressed in just her underclothes, pretending to look lost and afraid. She quickly tried to remember the names she'd heard the woman upstairs use - Eltharn and Darnen - as she removed her dark outer clothes and tucked them into her pack. If she was going to save Maren, this seemed the only possible plan. She pulled her boots off as well, and untied her hair, tucking everything securely into the pack and making sure it was hidden but easy to grab quickly if necessary.

The pack represented about half her worldly belongings. The other half were in a similar pack in a hiding place several blocks away. Niza had tucked them in a place that would prove easy enough to get to if she had to make a run out of town quickly, which she figured she and Maren might. She also figured she would have to share with Maren - it was unlikely they'd let her friend keep much of anything.

Taking a huge breath to steady her pounding heart a little, she waited until the guard was at the far end of the hall from her before slipping out into the hallway, and placing herself directly under the lantern while his back was still turned. She didn't have any trouble looking lost and afraid - she was afraid.

"S - sir?" she stammered in a tiny voice, barely able to make herself get the word out.

The guard whirled around and looked down at her angrily. Though she was nearly old enough to be an adult, the Elar stood almost twice her height and girth with his armor on. Her knees trembled and threatened to collapse underneath her.

"How did you get out?" he demanded in his thickly accented voice. He moved forward and grabbed her by the arm.

"I - I don't know," she lied. "I walk in my sleep sometimes. I just want to go back to bed."

He glared down at her and, terrified, Niza feared he'd seen right through her deception. Then he pulled her roughly by the arm so that she had to run to keep from being dragged as he took her down the hall and opened one of the doors.

He practically threw her into the room. It took all she had to not fall to the floor.

"Now you stay in the room until morning and not come out. You won't like what we do to little girls who don't behave."

He closed the door and left her in the dark. The windows were blocked up and there was no light in the room. A little spilled in from under the door, and some leaked in through the window shutters. It took her eyes some time to adjust, and even then she could only barely see anything.

She could tell that there were quite a few people in the room. She heard heavy breathing, some near-snoring, and the occasional quiet sobs. One sob was a little louder.

"Shut up and go to sleep," a girl's voice said. The sobbing stopped with a snuffle.

The best she could see were outlines and vague shapes. It was too dark for colors. She moved towards the closest cot, and the girl on it rolled and turned away from her.

"Maren?" she called in a whisper.

There was no answer. Slowly, she began creeping her way down the rows of beds, stopping to peer at each face that was visible. She got nearly to the end of that side of the room before she saw Maren's familiar reddish-blonde hair and freckles. She shook Maren's arm to wake her up, sighing with relief at having managed to find her. Maren's eyes snapped open and she looked around suspiciously before spotting Niza.

"Niza!" Maren sat up, tossing her blanket off and hugging Niza tightly. "I'm so glad to see you!" Maren's voice was barely above a whisper, but Niza quickly put her finger to her lips.

"Quietly, the guard will hear us."

"True," Maren nodded. "We are supposed to be sleeping. Didn't they explain about the rules to you?"

"You don't understand, I snuck in here to save you. I've got a bag stashed past the hall, under the stairs, and another a few blocks from here. We've got to get out of this city, Maren. They killed Jink. They fed him to that... that thing in the marketplace!"

"Jink was ignorant and refused to see the truth, Niza," Maren said, shaking her head. "It's a shame, but if he couldn't be made to understand, he had to die."

Niza's jaw dropped open with astonishment. Maren had always been protective of Jink, treating him more like a younger brother than just another orphaned kid on the street. There had been several times when Maren had been the one to help get Jink out of a scrape, barely keeping him from getting his hand lopped off by the city guards or ending up in the keep's dungeons. Yet Maren seemed unaffected by the news of his death.

"Maren?" she asked in bewilderment, blinking her eyes to be sure she was looking at the right girl.

"Besides," Maren went on, as if Niza hadn't said a word, "the creature in the marketplace isn't a thing, it's a demon. The Elar have powerful conjurers who control demons and force them to do good in Eltharn's name. It is an important part of restoring the balance for the good of all. Our Holy Lord and Master Darnen has brought us Eltharn's message. Hopefully in time. They are trying to save the world, Niza. It's such a very difficult task to take upon themselves, and very noble of them to come and save us."

"They... fed... Jink... to... a... demon... Maren," Niza said slowly, emphasizing each word. "What in the Gods' names is wrong with you?" Maren had spoken every word with honesty in her eyes, as if she believed what she was saying. Niza had never known Maren to bluff well. Either she'd picked up the skill out of desperation after being captured or she actually believed what she was saying was true. What have they done to her? she thought fearfully. She could see no signs of bruises or bandages on her friend. It's dark. They would have had to beat her very badly to make her believe their lies... wouldn't they? I just can't see the bruises in the darkness. I hope she'll be able to run when it's time. She realized she hadn't seen Maren move her legs yet and worried that her friend had broken bones that might hinder their escape.

"There's nothing wrong with me Niza. I have been brought out of my ignorance. I see things much more clearly now is all."

"Maren, it's me Niza," Niza leaned in even closer to her friend. "You don't have to pretend right now. We're talking quietly enough, I don't think anyone can hear. We need to work out how to get you out of here. And quickly, before they discover my bag and realize I wasn't in here already."

"You really shouldn't talk that way," Maren said. "You're confused. Go to sleep and talk to the priest in the morning. He'll help you."

"No, you're the confused one, Maren. I don't want help. I want you to get up and get dressed so we can get out of here. I can get you out of here, we can go someplace far away from these Elar. But we have to hurry, for the gods' sake--"

"Be silent!" Maren interrupted a little more loudly. "Blaspheme no more. There is only one god, and his name is Eltharn. Everything else is at best a spirit to be conjured up and made to serve Eltharn's will, in Darnen's name."

"You can't believe that," Niza pleaded. "They've done something to you. They've hurt you, or drugged you with something."

"They've shown me the truth. And they'll show you," Maren said, getting up from her cot. She started towards the door and Niza grabbed her wrist.

"Get your filthy claw off me," Maren said hatefully. "If you aren't going to listen to the truth then you're no better than Jink. You might as well be food for something useful."

Niza stood frozen, stunned, her jaw slack. Maren's arm slipped out of her hand. Maren turned away and went to the door.

"Maren?" Niza asked in a small voice, her heart sitting like a lump in her stomach. I've never seen her like this. What have they done to her? Niza stood there numbly as her best friend opened the door and called to the guard.

"Guard! This girl has stolen into the dormitory and is trying to abduct me. She must be seized and submitted to whatever punishment Eltharn wills necessary."

Niza's knees nearly dropped out from under her as her mind tried to wrap itself around what Maren was doing. She suddenly felt more weak and small than she'd ever felt in her life. Her best friend, the same friend who'd put herself in danger time and time again to help Niza, had just called the guard and ratted her out.

"You'd better run while you can," a voice behind her said. With the door opened, light was pouring into the room. She turned and looked at the speaker, seeing that the girl who'd said it did have her leg in a splint.

"They'll start with worse than feeding you to the demon," the girl said over the sound of booted feet coming down the hallway towards the door. "If you can make it out, get as far away from the city as you can. Riverport is lost. Warn others." The girl was older, probably of marrying age by a couple of years. She sported bruises across her left cheek and the eye on that side was nearly swollen shut. Niza found herself looking back and forth between her and the doorway where Maren stood, looking smug, with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"Go!" the girl urged. The word seemed to snap something inside Niza. Tears began rolling down her cheeks as she bolted towards the door. Maren put out a hand to stop her and Niza stopped long enough to punch her former best friend, as hard as she could, across the face.

"Maren, that should be you!" she screamed, waving her fist back at the battered girl behind her. "I thought you'd at least try to resist them!" Then she turned and ran, smack into the guard who stood in the doorway.

"What's going on here?" the guard asked in a loud voice, grabbing Niza's arm. Niza kicked him in the shin as hard as she could, but only cried out as her toe stubbed against his thick armor. Desperate, she turned and bit the unarmored hand that gripped her arm instead. The guard gave a yelp of pain and momentarily stepped back in surprise. Niza ran quickly past him, trying to ignore the pain in her foot. She dashed towards the stairs and grabbed her bag from it's hiding place before dashing up them, retracing her steps from before. The guard began yelling loudly behind her.

She ran up the dark stairs, barely seeing where she was going. She could only hope that the guard would only chase after her himself, and not sound some alarm.

She remembered the sleeping figure in the room she'd come in through, and continued up the stairs to the top. She dashed into the hallway, praying it was empty. It was. There were doors on both sides. She went to the first doorway on the right, it would open to the back of the building.

She had her hand on the doorknob when the guard got to the top of the stairs behind her. Even in his armor he was still quick. She yanked the door open and burst into the room.

There was a large open window at the far end of the room. There was a bed between her and the window, and a figure was waking on the bed. She ran towards it and jumped up onto the bed. The figure managed to mostly sit up, and muttered some attempt at asking what was going on. She hopped over him and jumped off the bed as the guard barged into the room behind her.

She ran to the left. Her only chance would be to dive through the window and hope she landed on the lower roof of the wing extending from the right of the window.

As she shrugged the little pack onto her back the guard jumped onto the bed taking the most direct route to her.

The man on the bed screamed out in pain, and the guard jumped off the bed. Oh, Gods, she thought as she ran for all she was worth and dove through the window. She landed high enough on the roof, but she landed flat and hard. She struggled, half dazed from the impact, to get a grip on the roof and not just slide off. There was yelling from behind her, but she was only partly aware of it.

She did check her slide in time. She got first to hands and knees, and then stood up. Alarm bells started ringing, and she turned enough to see the guard positioning himself at the window to come after her. She cursed and ran up the rough shingled roof on her sore bare feet.

She stood for a moment at the top of the roof, checking the rooftops for the best route out of town. She glanced in the direction she had planned to take first, as a diversionary tactic. But she knew she no longer had time to go back for the other bag. With the alarms ringing, she'd have guards on the street joining in the chase too. She needed to put some distance between herself and the alarm. She needed to get out of Riverport fast.

The most direct way out of town was not the safest. She'd already scoped out an area of the town wall where it was old, crumbling and lower in height. She'd known there would be no way of escaping through any of the main gates themselves, and she wasn't a strong enough swimmer to feel confident in her abilities to swim upriver. She'd laid out rope in advance, covered in dust to conceal it against the rock, and tucked into the ivy that clung haphazardly along the cracks in the wall. She aimed herself directly for the area she'd placed it, and ran forward, leaping over the first of the alleyways she'd have to cross.

She hadn't planned on running the rooftops without boots, however, and she cried out as one of her feet slipped, splinters from the shingles lodging themselves into one foot. She banged her chin up against the rooftop as she tried to catch herself from sliding downwards, towards the edge of the roof. She could hear voices below her now too, as guards made their way into the alley she might fall into. Splinters lodged into her hands as well, as she grabbed desperately for anything to stop her fall.

Finally, she caught hold of the chimney as she was sliding, and stopped herself. She pulled herself up and looked around. The guard from the orphanage was on the rooftop of that building, looking warily at the gap between it and the one she was on. She saw him take a breath and make the run for it, but his armor was just too heavy for him to make the jump. She heard him scream as he missed her rooftop entirely and fell downwards into the alleyway between. There was a loud clattering as he hit the ground.

She sat up for a moment and realized she had the rooftops to herself just then. Quickly, she yanked her boots and other clothes out of her pack, yanking as many splinters out of her bloodied foot as she could do in just a couple of tries before shoving her feet through her pants and into her boots. She yanked the tunic over her head before slinging the bag back into place on her back and tugging a pair of gloves she'd had in the pants pockets onto her scraped and splintered hands. At least they won't get worse, she thought to herself, trying to put the pain of her injuries out of her mind to concentrate on escaping.

As she stood up, her heart dropped into her stomach again and her eyes were wide with fear. While the guards remained on the ground, yelling and pointing up at her, the gray winged beast from the marketplace had taken to the air. For a moment, she was frozen in fear, her breath stuck in her throat as she watched it start in her direction. Then, the memory of the girl's voice from back in the dormitory seemed to pop up into her head.

"Go!" it urged. Again, it seemed to snap her out of her horror and she set herself in motion again. The pain in her foot was forgotten as she sprinted across the rooftop, heading towards the next one and making the leap flawlessly this time.

She made the next four leaps without error, but the demon seemed undaunted by her speed. In fact, it flew around ahead of her and she found herself stopping again and looking in despair as the demon pulled her prepared rope out of its hiding spot and moved towards her. It dangled the rope in the air, laughing and taunting her with it as it came. It whipped it in her direction, as if indicating what it intended to do with her before turning her into a late-night snack. She turned, picking a direction almost at random this time, frantically searching for a rooftop with a hatchway. She knew she needed to get off the roof quickly if she hoped to survive at all. She leapt to the next building, moving faster than she'd ever moved in her whole life, disregarding caution in favor of raw survival instincts.

The demon flew around and dove at her. She ducked and it flew past and down out of sight. She took the opportunity to change directions and leap again.

The next building was a slightly shorter one, and when she landed hard on the roof she crashed right through it. It ended up not hurting as much as she would have expected. She found herself in a cluttered attic surrounded by boxes and bits of rotted roof.

She knew she had to get out of the building quickly before she got cornered in it. She scurried around the attic looking for the way out. She found it by stepping on it, and the floor went out from under her. She landed on someone and did her best to roll up to her feet.

She didn't succeed, but ended up on one knee. The person she'd landed on was an Elar in expensive looking robes. He looked to be unconscious. She spared a quick glance around the room.

For the most part it was a richly furnished bedroom. There was a four-postered bed draped in green silk, there was an inlaid teak wardrobe, and the floor was covered in imported rugs.

Her eyes caught on what looked to be an altar along one wall. Drawn to it, she stood and walked closer. There was a black cloth on it with strange symbols embroidered in gold thread. There were four white candles and a bowl with some clear liquid in it.

On the middle of it, on a black stand, was some kind of short scepter. It was about the length of her forearm. It was gold, with crown-shaped formations of some kind of iridescent crystal at both ends. She had never seen crystals like them before, and she couldn't take her eyes off of them.

She found herself picking it up. It was lighter than she expected, and warm to the touch. She unslung her pack and tucked the scepter thing into the pack, nestling it in among rope and everything else in there to protect it.

Then she remembered the demon and the guards hunting for her. She brought her eyes back into focus and the first thing she saw was the ornate wardrobe. an idea flashed into her head and she ran to it and flung the double doors open.

Nestled among the elaborate robes was one common looking one. She grabbed it and shrugged into it. She had to move the pack around front, but she thought it might work. She put up the hood and prayed.

She opened the door and went out into the hallway, her head bowed and hidden under the hood. She quietly closed the door behind her so they wouldn't immediately assume she'd left the room. There was no one in the hallway, but she could hear voices and footsteps coming from one direction. She went the other way, moving swiftly around the corner before she could be spotted.

She found a set of stairs and made her way down to what she hoped was the ground level. Once there, she moved in the direction the footsteps upstairs had come from, hoping that would lead her towards and exit. The hallway was teeming with people, almost all Elar, talking to one another in hushed voices. Many of them were dressed in robes similar to the one she was wearing, although none of them had their hoods up. She held her breath as she passed through them, hoping they would think that she was just another one of them, on her way out. She walked in a normal pace, which felt agonizingly slow as she felt herself brush against Elar on her way through the hallway. She could see a door at the other end of the hall and confirmed that it led outside when she saw it open and several guards come storming through. The guards didn't look down the hallway, but headed directly up the stairs at that end of the building instead.

She made it within reach of the door when a hand fell on her shoulder. She froze, and the person behind her pulled her hood back and turned her around to look at them. The Elar man was dressed richly, like the one upstairs had been, although his robes were of darker shades and bore more golden-threaded embroidery than the other's had. His face was thin, almost gaunt, as if he had been starving recently, and his eyes were a dark brown that seemed almost black. When he looked at her, she felt a chill run down her spine and it seemed as if he was looking through her, as if with just a thought he could have turned her to stone where she stood.

"Run! Go!" The girl from the orphanage's words sounded in her head again, as if in warning. She could feel the man's grip on her shoulder tightening. She pulled out from beneath his hand and bolted for the door, leaving him standing with the cloak in his grip. She yanked the door open and barrelled out of it, running into the street with all her might. Yelling behind her told her she wouldn't have much time to get ahead of them.

She knew she had no chance of leaving through any of the gates at this point, and her planned escape route was gone. She turned towards the river, keeping in the shadows of the buildings as much as she could, and watching for movement in the skies above her. Periodically, as she ran, she thought she heard voices nearing behind her. Her legs ached, and her feet burned, especially the one with splinters still lodged in it, but she willed herself to keep moving. She silently prayed that she'd have enough energy left to swim far enough upriver to get past the city walls.

Running was awkward with her backpack in front of her, so she shrugged out of it as she ran. She didn't look back, but she didn't have to. She could hear the shouting behind her. It didn't sound very far back. She slung the backpack over one shoulder and then got the other arm through.

She passed through a small market plaza empty of stalls. So many merchants had been arrested and their goods seized. Now she spared a glance over her shoulder. Although she was keeping ahead of them, it wasn't very far ahead. She couldn't see the demon though, and that scared her so much she nearly tripped.

Finally she saw the docks ahead. Most of the ships there were Elar, and suddenly she worried about them using boats to chase her.

The most direct route to open water was over one of the boats. Otherwise she'd have to swim around one. She'd be safer with a boat between her and her pursuers--maybe they wouldn't be able to tell which direction she'd gone.

She ran up a gangplank up to a ship 's deck, drawing surprised looks from a number of morgule slaves. There were oil lanterns lit, and temporary stalls holding horses on the deck. Bales of hay were stacked neatly. On impulse she grabbed a lantern and hurled it onto the deck before the hay bales.

The lantern broke and oil splattered about and spilled. At first nothing else happened, and she prayed that it hadn't just blown out. Suddenly it went up, and flame spread across the deck. Morgules panicked and she heard heavy, booted feet coming up the gangplank behind her. She ran and the fire moved between her and the guards. She dove over the side of the ship and dropped into the icy water.

At first, the shock of the cold water was almost more than she could bear, and the air rushed out of her lungs in her panic. Not having any air just made the panic worse, as she clawed and kicked her way back upwards in the water. Her heart raced as she made her way towards what she hoped was the surface. She suddenly couldn't be sure if she had flipped upside-down at all when she'd first entered the water. As it was still night outside, there was no sun on the surface to guide her way. What little air was left in her mouth left her too, as she unintentionally tried to scream. Water rushed into her nose and mouth, and she swallowed and swallowed, trying to get past it to air.

Without warning, she broke the surface of the water and her swallowing turned into gasps for air. She managed to calm herself some as she coughed some of the water out and restored her breathing to something resembling normal. Then the first arrow hit the water nearby. She spared a glance upwards to see Elar with bows, pointing down at her and shooting. She took a deep breath and dove under the water and swam frantically up the river. She felt one arrow stick into her thigh as she moved away, but ignored it for the moment.

As Niza got farther from where the boats were docked, the current seemed to get stronger, trying to push her small body backwards towards the Elar, instead of upriver where she needed to go. She veered towards the bank, where it seemed to have less strength and tried to set herself a pace to maintain that would make progress against the water's pull. She noted where the city wall came to the river's edge, and aimed for the bank farthest from the side the guards chasing her were on. She didn't dare stop long enough to look behind her and see what progress they were making on her. If she stopped for even a moment, she'd lose valuable distance.

She kept taking large breaths and swimming underneath the surface, hoping it would conceal her from the guards better, as well as help her swim faster. Someone had once told her something about swimming under water and surface tension and made it sound like it was better for speed. Her clothes and backpack were weighing her down as it was, causing drag and slowing her progress. It seemed to take forever for her to pass the city wall, and even longer before she thought it might be safe to leave the river itself and start running again. Shivering, she stopped long enough to break the arrow off, leaving enough of the shaft so that she could pull it out properly later, but not have it in her way so much right now. Then she ran upriver as best she could on the sodden and rocky bank.

It was early fall, so the air wasn't as cold as the mountain water of the river. She ran as best she could, and from time to time she shook. The nearby terrain was mostly farms with tall fields of wheat and corn. The riverbanks were more wooded, and she stuck to the trees. She could only hope they would keep her hidden.

She kept expecting to hear horns or dogs, but they didn't come. She kept moving anyway, although she let her pace slow. She knew if she didn't put enough distance between her and the city that they would catch up to her. For all she knew they weren't hurrying after her, knowing they could probably track her from horseback. She pushed herself onward.

Eventually morning came. By that point she was limping, more lurching along than even walking. She knew she would have to stop before too much longer. Another hour passed, and another. The sun rose higher but all she was aware of was the burning pain in her leg and the need to press onward. She moved her foot, and then moved her other foot to keep up. Then it was back to the first foot. She made no effort to keep track of time. She knew if she stopped she wouldn't be able to start again. She didn't let herself stop.

It was late in the day when she finally did stop. Her stomach ached, she was thirsty, and she was in so much pain she had trouble focusing on the ground. She had reached a thicket of older oaks, and she rooted around for a place to rest.

She found a hollow among big roots and she fell to the ground near it. She pulled herself into the little hollow. She sat herself up as much as she was able and looked at her blood-soaked leg. There was a waterskin in her backpack, and she used that to rinse blood away so she could see the wound. It was still oozing.

She could see metal at the surface, which meant it was one of the longer, thinner points meant for piercing armor. It would be only marginally barbed, which meant she'd be able to pull it out. She grabbed the bit of shaft left and yanked it out before she had time for second thoughts. The trees swallowed up her scream.

More blood came now, and she tore part of her pants leg to tie around it. She felt herself in danger of passing out. She managed to drink a little of the water before she did.

Chapter 4 - Ullden

The sunlight streaming in long, thin shafts around the edges of the curtains woke Ullden from his dreams. He squinted disapprovingly at the window, realizing that it was already later than he'd planned to wake this morning. He slipped out of the bed, careful not to wake the young brunette woman still sleeping there. The covers only half covered her soft, pale skin and for a moment he stood and argued with himself over the idea of staying just an hour longer. Memories of her nimble fingers and supple lips from the night before did little to discourage him. Reminding himself that an old friend of his would be waiting for him at a keep only a few days down the road finally convinced him to get dressed. He turned away and tugged on his shirt and pants. However, he had his bracers, socks and boots on before he could actually lace the pants closed and fasten his belt.

He left the heavier, metal pieces of armor for after breakfast and headed downstairs, quietly closing the door behind him. It occurred to him as he made his way downstairs that he couldn't remember the woman's name. He frowned at that, since he usually made a point of knowing. He remembered having quite a bit to drink, however, as the bard playing at the inn had been exceptionally good and the woman had been his sister. He'd also ended up dropping quite a bit of money in tips into the bard's lutebox as a result. He wondered briefly if she'd even told him her name, or if she had also been working him. He stopped a moment at the bottom of the stairs, to check his coinpurse. When he found everything in order he shrugged and sat down at a table in the dining area.

The girl who served him breakfast was pretty, but he did his best to avoid eye contact with her. He didn't need any further distractions keeping him from getting started on the road. Nonetheless, he found himself watching the sway of her hips as she made her way back and forth between the kitchen. He hardly noticed the eggs, potatoes, and bread he was eating. It was gone before he really realized it, and he drained the glass of juice before leaving the table. He nodded at the other people he'd been sitting near, noticing that the room had filled up while he'd been eating. There was a low roar of conversation settling over the inn. There were a surprising amount of families among them. Many people were heading north or west in the hopes of getting to safety before the Elar made it to where they lived. The news and rumors he'd heard the night before had been disturbing, to say the least.

He stopped at the kitchen and acquired a plate and glass for the woman in his room. A part of him hoped she'd be dressed, or at least better covered, by the time he arrived, but most of him hoped otherwise. He paused for a moment and exhaled upon entering the room, as she'd rolled over and was no longer covered at all. He let the door close behind him with a bit of a banging before setting the plate and glass down on the bedside table. The manner in which she yawned and stretched did not help matters any, but breakfast and time had helped his own resolve and he was able to merely give her a smile before heading over to start packing his belongings and donning the remainder of his armor.

"Good morning," he said as he sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up one of his packs. "I've brought you some breakfast. I hope you slept well."

"Oh, I've slept worse," she said with a sarcastic grin. She made no move to cover herself, and he found himself avoiding looking directly at her. She sat up cross-legged and picked up the plate. He had to admit she was in great shape and had a very nice--

He moved around to the other side of the bed to finish stuffing his backpack. He filled it up with a bit more energy than strictly needed. He dropped it heavily onto the bed. Yesterday he had stocked up with more provisions, so there was nothing outside this room keeping him from leaving.

"So are you leaving today?" she asked.

"Yes. I'm meeting someone in a couple of days. I shouldn't keep him waiting." When he spoke to her he very pointedly maintained eye contact, keeping his eyes from straying. Good peripheral vision made that difficult. He turned again to grab the last pieces of armor from the table.

"I'm glad we ran into each other last night, though," he admitted. "Tell your brother that I've heard a lot of bards in a lot of cities, and he's good."

"Are you sure you weren't just trying to impress me?" she asked, with a taunt in the tone of her voice.

He allowed himself one more full look of her. He wasn't about to tell her that even if he hadn't seen her that someone would have woken up in the bed with him. She was not the most beautiful woman he'd met, but was one of the more beautiful that he'd bedded. He lifted the sword leaning against the table and belted it around his waist.

"I only try to impress the people who're paying me," he said, one hand still on the hilt of his sword.

"Hmm, perhaps I should have tossed a couple coins at you," she mused aloud. "Imagine if you'd been trying to impress me as well."

He looked up at her again, an eyebrow raised in surprise.

"I don't think I've met a woman quite like you before," he admitted, turning quickly back to the last piece of armor. He lifted the slightly battered metal breastplate up into place and fastened the leather straps around himself. He'd turned his back to her and suddenly felt her hands, helping him, handing him the straps one by one. When he'd fastened the last, she leaned upwards and put her lips right next to his ear.

"Trust me. It's unlikely you ever will again," she said in a low, sultry voice. He found one hand gripping the edge of the table in front of him as he tried to maintain his composure while she ran the tip of her tongue along the ridges and curves of his ear. Then she bounced backwards onto the bed and lay sprawled across it. She watched him, unashamed and laughing. For a moment, the desire to strip his armor back off and stay just an hour longer was almost overwhelming. He shook his head, partly at her and partly at himself, before grabbing up the larger of his packs and slinging it over his shoulder. He grabbed up the smaller bag and saddlebags in one hand and then leaned over to give her a kiss before leaving.

"It's been a pleasure," he told her as he bent down.

"The name's Anessa," she said with a chuckle. "Don't worry, Ullden, I wouldn't tell you last night."

"I won't forget," he replied with a chuckle of his own. He kissed her, intending it to be brief, but found himself regretting again that he needed to leave as their lips met. He'd been leaning into the bed with one knee and needed to put his free hand down onto the mattress to keep from falling over onto it.

"I have to go," he said, once they parted, allowing his regret to color his voice.

"Safe journey Ullden," she said with a smile. "Perhaps we'll meet again one day."

"I'd like that," he said, standing up and re-adjusting his bag on his shoulder. "Gods keep you safe Anessa." He turned and left the room, knowing that if he looked back he'd surely stay another day. As it was, certain pieces of his armor were feeling more constricting than they had when he'd put them on. He heard her voice behind him, as he closed the door to the room.

"Gods watch over you Ullden."

He made his way downstairs and stopped off at the kitchen for a glass of water and to refill his canteen before heading to the stables to collect his horse. Two of the kitchen boys offered to take his bags out for him, and he let them, tossing each a coin for their labors.

He followed the two boys to the stable. His saddle and some more of his gear were hung on pegs on the stall wall. His horse was a deep brown color. He'd had her almost three years now. He grabbed up the saddle and blanked and laid them on her.

"Are you a knight?" one of the boys asked.

"What makes you think that?" Ullden asked with a chuckle.

"Well, you've got all that armor and a sword. I s'pose you could be a soldier or a mercenary, too."

"Well, I'm not exactly a knight," he said, strapping the saddle in place. "I go where I please, do more or less what I want. There's no lord or commander giving me orders."

"My ma says folk like you 're just freebooters an' rabblerousers," the other boy said.

"Trouble? Me? I've been called worse," Ullden said, taking the bag from the boy to strap to the saddle. "But I'm no thief." He took the bag from the other boy. "You two should run along now, I'm sure there's things you're supposed to be doing."

The two boys ran off back towards the house and Ullden chuckled as he heard the first boy chiding the second for saying such things to a guest. Ullden finished gearing up his horse and tying his bags and other items in place, checking to be sure the horse had been properly cared for in the process. The horse was named Banks, a name she'd had before Ullden had bought her. The man who'd sold her to him had said it was because she'd been born unexpectedly while her mother had been grazing along the banks of a river. Ullden didn't care much for the name, but the horse seemed to turn her head in his direction when he used it, so he hadn't bothered changing it.

"You rested up, Banks?" he asked in a soothing voice as he led her out of the stables. "We've got a few more days to go before you'll likely see stables again."

She seemed to snort as if in answer and he gave her a fond pat on the neck before swinging himself up into the saddle. There was no one there to see him off, although he did find himself casting a glance upwards at the window to the room he'd been staying in. Anessa was not watching from the window, and he felt a small pang of regret before he turned Banks into the road. He scanned the skies as he made his way out of town at a fast canter, and was pleased to see that the weather looked to be clear for the day.

Once they'd passed beyond the town's limits, he urged Banks into a gallop and they put some distance behind them. They alternated between periods of hard riding and easy trotting along the uneven dirt roads that lay before them. He passed others on the road, most of whom seemed to be going the opposite direction as he was. At one point, he saw a large caravan moving up one of the crossroads. It looked to be almost entirely wagons of families and supplies, along with some guards and hunters. If he hadn't already been headed somewhere specific, he would have considered seeing if they were hiring any extras. He doubted it they were, however. There seemed to be more money in guarding those headed towards cities held by the Elar than those going away from them. While some merchants still tried to head into areas near the occupied cities, their prices had been going up considerably for the effort.

Ullden suspected that the Elar weren't the only reason people were moving further away at this point. Some just couldn't afford to pay the prices for food and other goods. Local resources in those areas were getting scarce too, as the Elar would raid the areas near the cities they held, taking what supplies they needed. In some areas, Ullden had heard they had managed to secure the cities themselves and were already heading outwards. Rumors said that they were pulling people off their farms and herding them into groups in towns while they stripped the farms clean of food. No one was entirely sure what they were doing with the people. Some said mass murder or sacrifice to some god. Others said they would be used as a slave force like the Morgule. No one was entirely sure what it was the Elar wanted or what offense had been made to fuel such an attack. All those sent to try and negotiate peace or at least find out their demands or complaint were never seen again.

None of that was really his problem anyway, he reminded himself. He let his eyes wander the farmland and scattered forests. He would meet his friend Wellar, and trek along on another silly expedition with him.

Wellar was one of those odd sorts of people who came up with a silly question and wouldn't rest until it was answered. In this case, the question revolved around one particular piece of wilderness off to the northwest that had never been settled. Wellar's real question was why. At least the man wasn't entirely so stupid as to go off on such a quest alone, so off Ullden went to join him.

If the reason no one had ever settled that particular chuck of low mountains and forest had something to do with some hungry monster maybe he'd be able to keep his friend alive long enough to escape. It was still a fool's quest, he muttered aloud.

He passed the day riding. He waved helloes to people he passed. Some of those people looked hopeful and some looked grim. He paid less attention to the grim ones.

He stopped at a spot near a couple of other caravans. He was more in the mood for quiet than company for a change, so he camped off by himself. The last thing he needed right now was another woman to distract him. He took care of Banks, cooked himself a nice dinner, slept well, and continued on his way in the morning.

The next couple of days' travel were quiet. The weather seemed to be holding, although he saw storm clouds heading in on the horizon. He estimated he would arrive at the keep just in time to avoid having to ride or camp in the rain. The steady flow of people heading in the opposite direction as him didn't seem to be letting up. He wasn't sure, but it even seemed possible it was getting bigger. He found himself guiding Banks to ride alongside the road so that wagons could pass more and more frequently. The land he was passing through was mostly farmlands, with the occasional small forest or large pond interrupting the rolling hills of green and gold. Some crops had been harvested already and on several occasions he saw farmers out working their fields.

He crossed a small river, not far from his destination. The road veered a ways to allow crossing at the narrowest point, and a wooden bridge had been built at some point. The bridge appeared a bit worse for wear, and he walked across it, leading the horse as he tested the footing ahead of them. They made it across, but Ullden found himself worrying about the wagons in caravans crossing it. He suspected that the bridge had not been built with that volume of wagon traffic in mind, and he made a mental note to mention something when he reached the keep. They'd know who would have to take responsiblity for repairing the bridge.

The scene he found when he came in sight of the keep itself was unexpected. The rounded stone walls of the building rose up from the hill it sat upon. The ground around it on the hill had been cleared for quite a distance, allowing those manning the keep to see before anyone reached the keep's walls themselves. However, littering that expanse of open grassy land were hundreds of tents and wagons. It was late afternoon as he approached the final stretch of road leading up to the gate, and he could see the smoke of campfires, rising up from within the camps. The closer he got to the keep, children began to come up to the road to meet him. Nearly all of them had their hands outstretched, begging for some coin or food, while other children watched from further back, their eyes watching him as he passed.

Inside the gates of the keep, things were loud and crowded. He saw one area which appeared to be occupied by soliders, training young men how to fight. Ullden suddenly found himself wondering just how far off the Elar really were, if they were mounting a defense this far inland. He made inquiries of some of the local guards to find the keep's commander. He knew that Wellar would have done the same and it would be the quickest means to sort through the mess of people and find his friend.

He was informed several times that the commander was not available. Eventually someone did lead him to an aide. The aide was a tall and skinny man, losing hair that was also turning from brown to gray.

"My name is Ullden," he explained to the aide. "I'm here to meet a friend and business associate. He's a scholar named Wellar. He would have made a point of introducing himself when he arrived."

"We've quite literally had a year's worth of traffic in the last week alone, sir," the aide said, sounding irritated yet with an apologetic expression.

"Are things really as bad as the rumors tell?"

"Things do not go well south of here. If those lands should fall, this keep will be the next to be attacked. That is about all I'm able to say just now. If you are a mercenary seeking work I can arrange the appropriate interview."

"No," Ullden said, frustrated, "technically I've already been hired. And I don't do war, thanks."

"I think you'll find the inns completely filled up," the aide went on. "If this scholar of yours shows up, where shall I say he might find you?"

"There's a shop here he knows. I'll leave word there next."

"I should warn you. If he's coming from the south, there is a fair chance you'll not ever see your friend again. Scholars are not faring well in Elar occupied lands."

"What do you mean?" Ullden asked.

"Suffice it to say that the Elar round up the priests and scholars first and kill them. After that, we're not sure. We think the rest are being enslaved, like they did with the Morgule. How, we don't know, since their numbers ought to be thinning, making it difficult to keep control of so many slaves." The aide shook his head. "Maybe your friend made it out or kept quiet. Either way, I don't recall hearing his name, so if he would have checked in I don't think he's been here yet. Now, if you'll excuse me sir, I've got a lot of other things that need my attention right now." The man gave him a brief nod before turning and heading off, quickly getting lost in the crowd of people. Ullden sighed with frustration, and turned towards the marketplace.

In a half-circle around behind the general marketplace was a two-story stone building. It was divided up into twenty permanent shops, ten upstairs and ten below. Most of the merchants who leased those shops from the keep also lived in them as well. A long balcony ran along in front of the second story, with four wooden staircases leading up to it at different points. Banners hung from the balcony, advertising the different shops contained within. He frowned as he approached, not recognizing the banner that hung where the shop he was headed towards was located. His attention was distracted for a moment, as two children nearly tripped him up trying to chase down some chickens. They, too, were swallowed up by the crowd almost as quickly as they had appeared. He concentrated his attention on pushing his way through the teeming mass of bodies as people argued or haggled with merchants, or attempted to leave with their purchases. He kept one hand securely on his coinpurse, even though it was tucked into a pocket, and the other firmly on the reins of his horse as he pushed his way through.

He was relieved to find other horses tied at the post and undisturbed, and tied Banks in along with them before heading up the nearest stairs to the second level. Upon arriving at the doorway of the shop, he realized that it had changed entirely. What had previously been a bookstore, was now a shoemaker. Frowning, he went inside.

"Excuse me," he inquired of the man behind the counter peering at a pair of men's shoes through glasses. "What happened to the bookstore that was here please?"

Despite the fact that Ullden was the only other person in the shop at that moment, the man looked up and looked around as if trying to locate who'd spoken. Then he blinked as he removed his glasses and looked directly at Ullden.

"Ahhh, you must not have been 'ere in a while, I've been 'ere near as four years now I reckon," the man said.

"I see. What about the couple that owned the bookstore? Are they still here somewhere?" He knew that Wellar would want to confer with Vera, the bookstore owner's wife, who read tea leaves and the like. While Ullden didn't trust those sorts of things, Wellar was fascinated by those who seemed to be able to predict accurately.

"Mekin an' Vera? Aye, good folk those two. Mekin caught some kinda illness that took 'im down real quick. Vera couldn't manage the bookstore herself so she sold off the books to some merchants for cheap and then moved in with another widower friend o' hers. She was makin' some coin by readin' people's runes fer 'em, an' then the Duke caught wind o' her durin' a visit. Called her a 'seer' an' took her off with him to his castle. Ain't nobody heard from her since."

"Hmm," Ullden shook his head, unsure what to make of the story. "I have a friend who might come looking here as I am. His name is Wellar. Has he inquired here, perchance?"

"No, I don't reckon I've heard that name afore," the man answered.

"Could I leave a message in case he does come by?"

"I guess," the man shrugged. "I ain't no messenger service, mind you, but I don't see how it could hurt."

Ullden pulled a piece of paper, pen, and ink from his pack and quickly jotted down a message for Wellar. He tucked the pen and ink away before blowing on the paper to dry the ink. When he was sure it was dry enough, he folded it and handed it over to the shopkeeper.

"My name is Ullden. If Wellar should come here and inquire, please give this to him for me." He also handed the man a couple of coins for his trouble, and the man thanked him before putting the message into a cubby on the wall behind him. Ullden left the shop frowning. In the message he'd mentioned that he'd be camping on the hill outside the city walls. He wondered if Wellar would even be able to find him amongst so many people. A glance at the storm clouds gathering in the sky made him frown all the more. He headed down and got Banks, heading outside the keep walls again. He knew he wanted to get his tent up and Banks unsaddled and brushed before it rained.

The hill was a gentle one, and he found a spot on it big enough for him. He started with his tent first. It was a little one, barely big enough for him to sit up in, but it kept the rain out. The slope of the hill was gentle enough that he wouldn't have to worry too much about rain runoff coming down the hill at him, which was good.

He got the tent up and was moving his gear into it when the first peal of thunder rolled through. Some people were still behind him in getting tents up, and those people quickened their pace with assorted looks of alarm. It was still daytime, but the heavy clouds dimmed the day considerably.

He was brushing Banks when the first drops fell. Once started, the rain grew in force quickly. He stood in the rain, brushing. He chuckled as he watched people around him scurrying to finish what they were doing to get inside. His biggest annoyance was that firewood, which might already be growing scarce, would all be wet.

He tethered Banks to a stake he'd put in alongside his tent. The brown mare would have some grass to munch on, but it wouldn't really have any value. Once the rain let up he'd give her some oats from his supplies.

He crawled into the tent and started stripping off his armor. It had only been a little rain so far, but he dried off what he could. He took a rag and some oil and gave the armor a light oiling. He made it a rule to take care of his armor. The armor had taken care of him more than once.

When he was done he lay back and put his hands under his head. He stared up at the canvas listening to the drops pitter-patter on it as they came down still a little more heavily. There was more thunder, but so far it didn't sound immediately close by or overly threatening. He relaxed and listened to it, wondering what he would do if Wellar didn't show.

Chapter 5 - Jetha

Jetha was bored. While the tutor droned on and on about something involving triangles and math, she stared at the tip of her pen as she tapped it gently against the inkwell. She was noticing that it was starting to stick a little to the edge of the glass as the ink on both the pen and the glass began to dry. She added a little ink to the tip of the pen and started again, watching as bits of it globbed up. She wondered whether it was expensive ink or not, and if more expensive ink would keep from globbing up like that. She was so engrossed in her 'studies' that she didn't notice when the tutor came up to the side of her desk and cleared her throat. She looked up, surprised, hearing one of her brothers snickering.

"Miss Jetha, perhaps you can tell us why it is important to understand the relationship between one side of a perfect triangle and the others?"

"Honestly, Mr. Adrams, if I ever encounter a perfect triangle, I expect I can just measure the sides and then I'll know how long they are," she told him with a sigh. "I just don't see the point of remembering all these different shapes and how they compare to one another if I'm going to be a wizard."

"Then perhaps you should ask Mr. Nordithet what importance shapes play in the art of wizardry, young lady. I expect you shall be quite surprised. I should hate to see you make a circle of protection too small for those you need to protect, for example." Mr. Adrams turned his back towards her and moved towards the front of the room. Jetha made a face at his back and it was all her friend Mindle could do to stop from giggling.

Mr. Adrams went on with the lesson then, changing the topic slightly to include circles too. While Jetha tried to concentrate on the lesson, she was too distracted to really listen properly. She doodled some triangles and circles on the paper, hoping Mr. Adrams would think she was taking notes. She'd copy one of her brothers' notes later. Her mind was on the next class she'd have with Mr. Nordithet, her wizardry tutor, whom she had private lessons with. He was going to finally show her a combat spell today. She hoped it would be something flashy she could show her friends, like a fireball. She wondered what components it would require to ready it for use. It was far more exciting to think about than triangles.

Eventually that lesson ended and she raced from the room. Mr. Nordithet had been given his own office to work and teach from, and she ran there. The family estate was technically just barely a keep, but to her it had always been a castle. Mainly it was a rectangular brick and stone building with small towers at the four corners.

Mr. Nordithet's office was in one of the towers. The office was on the top of the two levels in the tower, above the room he slept in. He wasn't there yet, so she sat on one of the two stools. There were bookshelves loaded with books, and more books stacked neatly on the desk.

She desperately wanted to grab one of those books to read. Curiosity burned to know what great lore was hidden within them, but Mr. Nordithet kept them magically protected. The last time she had tried the book had suddenly had a mouth full of tiny teeth that bit her.

Mr. Nordithet entered about five minutes behind her, right about the time she was getting unbearably antsy waiting for him. He was a tall man, whom many said looked too young to be a wizard, let alone a teacher. He had black hair combed back away from his face, was always clean-shaven, and wore meticulously cared for black pants and shirt. His polished boots rang softly on the hardwood floor. The door closed behind him without any noticeable effort on his part.

"Good morning, young Jetha," he said, his arms crossed behind him as was his habit when he walked.

"Good morning Mr. Nordithet," she replied, attempting to seem calm and appear as if she'd not been anxious for him to arrive. "I'm ready for my lesson." She couldn't help but let some of her excitement leak through in the smile she gave him. To her dismay, he shook his head as he moved over to his desk.

"Actually, Jetha, I've decided to change the plan for today. We'll get to that particular spell... perhaps next week."

"What?" the word escaped her mouth before she could stop it, her voice filled with disappointment and exasperation. Nordithet looked up at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Is there some problem with the change in my lesson plans Jetha?" His voice was calm, but she could hear a hint of challenge in it as if he was daring her to say more.

"No sir," she said in a meek voice. She was so frustrated she wanted to cry.

"Before I begin teaching you spells that could be used against others, Jetha, I believe we need to do some exercises in both focus and patience first. Mr. Adrams seems to believe that you're ability to focus on your studies properly is waning. I would hate to see you lose your focus when casting a dangerous spell, Jetha. Someone could be hurt.

Jetha groaned inwardly. She hadn't thought the two tutors would have had a chance to talk already. Adrams must have caught Nordithet in the halls on his way to the tower. She wondered briefly how hard it would be to turn Adrams into a toad for a day, but then chided herself for the thought, knowing what Nordithet would think of it.

Nordithet had been standing, his arms still crossed behind his back, studying her for a moment. He then turned, inked one of his pens, jotted a list of things onto a piece of paper, and slid it across the desk towards her.

"Gather these components together please, Jetha. You are going to try a premonition spell instead. They take some time, however, both for preparation and execution. We shall see if your patience and focus can be tamed long enough for the spell to work and give you some sight. It will be interesting to find out what you see."

She hopped off the stool and grabbed the list, looking it over and heading to the cupboards and shelves along the sides of the room where he kept bottles, boxes, jars, and even cages of items and critters required as components for spells. While a premonition spell was not as exciting to her as a fireball might have been, her curiosity was already getting the better of her and her excitement grew as she grabbed up a tray and began doling out the appropriate components on it, memorizing in her mind which ones she was getting. She knew, already, that he would ask her which components were used both after the spell was complete and again in a few days, to test her memory. It was important that she remember all that was needed for each spell, and accurately. Sometimes, too much of one thing could yeild entirely different results. He'd taught her about that early on and she'd watched in horror as the messenger pigeon she'd created had melted on the table from using too much sulfur. Once she'd gathered everything onto the tray, she brought it over to his desk where he glanced briefly at it and nodded.

"Start with a circle for you to sit in with the stone bowl please, Jetha," he told her.

"Next you will combine the first group of reagents in the bowl. The sulfur you will sprinkle in one pinch at a time. This spell is subtle; it must be done slowly and deliberately."

He gave her the chant to recite, telling her to start whispering it now as she began. Then he had her add water to the bowl, telling her to stir it until everything was dissolved.

"When it begins to steam, stop stirring it. It will bubble for a few minutes at that point. That tells you it is beginning. At that point you must keep your mind blank. Continue the chant. Stare into the liquid--see nothing else. Be aware of nothing else."

"You will have to continue until the liquid stills completely. When it is perfectly smooth it will be your looking glass. If your mind remains still, the bowl will show you answers to questions you did not yet know you had. You will when you are finished. Forget nothing of what you see. All of it will be important someday. Come and tell me when you are finished. There will be no more lessons until you succeed."

With that he turned crisply on his heel and strode from the room. She couldn't say anything without interrupting the chant. She added another tiny pinch of sulfur and stirred it in, maintaining the quiet chant. After what felt like an eternity of stirring it began to steam. Come one, you have to work, she found herself thinking as the first bubble started. The bubble popped with a loud blorp, and then there was nothing.

"Dammit!" she cursed herself, knowing she'd ruined it. She sighed, picked up the bowl and stood up. She went to the counter and cleaned everything up before gathering the supplies again to start from scratch.

This time, before she began, she practiced clearing her mind and doing some breathing exercises that Nordithet had taught her early into her training. Once she felt a calm settle over her, she began whispering the chant and drawing out the circle with the stick of chalk. She sat herself down in the center of it and began slowly and deliberately placing each of the items into the bowl one at a time. She timed some of it off, based on a specific point in the chant, so that there was about the same amount of time between each item that went into the bowl. She added the sulfur in a similar manner, one pinch at a time. Then she stirred in the water, barely faster than a trickle. She set the small water pitcher aside and watched the leaves and small clumps of various components swirling away as they dissolved into the water.

This time, she didn't allow the steam to distract her, but tried to concentrate all the more. She pulled the metal stirring stick out of the bowl and set it aside as she leaned in towards the bowl and latched her gaze on the still-moving water. It had become slightly thickened from the reagents and did not take long to stop swirling after the stick had been removed. Small bubbles began to appear on the surface of the liquid and she saw that as the first one popped, it left behind it a ring of smooth, glassy liquid in it's place. Fascinated, and still chanting, she leaned in even further until her face was only a short distance away from the surface of the water. More and more small bubbles appeared, followed by bigger ones. They bubbled faster and faster until the top of the bowl was just a mass of rising, popping bubbles. She clenched her hands and kept chanting, doing her best to keep her mind clear and not worry about whether it was supposed to work that way. She had to trust in both the magic and her instincts. Sometimes there were things that Nordithet purposely left out of his instructions for that very reason.

Then, suddenly, the bubbles died down and a glassy surface on the water remained, wavering for a moment before settling into a perfect stillness. She looked at it intently, still chanting the incantation but hardly aware that her voice was still making any sound at all. At first, she saw a glimpse of movement in the water, a woman staring back out of it at her. The woman seemed somehow vaguely familiar to her, and yet Jetha knew they'd never met. The woman gestured forward, saying something, as if doing an incantation of her own. Then, the room around Jetha seemed to vanish entirely, and everything around her was replaced by cloudy images.

She sat back, alarmed and her heart pounding. A quick look down confirmed that the stone floor and the chalk circle were still beneath her. She stood up, spinning slowly around to try and take in all the images at once.

There was a savage woman, chained to the ground, beaten but not broken as she still fought against the chains while someone in armor loomed over her with a whip.

There was priest, on his knees before an altar, his robes covered in blood. Somehow she knew it was not his own.

There was a girl, running. She was hurt and afraid. And something in her pack was trying to burn it's way out and hurt her but she didn't know it.

There was a warrior, standing in the rain. The path before him barred though he banged his fists against it.

There was a man in a cave, drawing symbols and images on the walls. She'd never seen their like before, but knew they were old and powerful. He turned and looked at her directly. Other figures gathered in behind him, their eyes staring out at her from the deep hoods on their cloaks.

"We only bought time," he told her. "In the end, we failed. Now it begins again."

Then she watched as the cloaked figures burst in to flame and the man who'd spoken fell to his knees screaming and clutching his head.

She turned to the next image, unable to bear his pain. She saw another man, in expensive robes, tall and thin, laughing. His image wavered though, something was wrong about him and fear grew in her heart just looking at him.

The last image was of herself. She found herself stepping closer, looking intently at this one. She saw herself drawing symbols like the ones the man in the cave had drawn, only she drew them in blood instead of the charcoal he had used. She felt pain across her own hands and looked down to see them both sliced open. She screamed, and the images around her shattered like glass as she did so. She fell to her knees, trying to clutch her bleeding hands, but suddenly the blood was gone. Her hands were perfect again, as if they'd never been damaged, even though they still throbbed with the memory. The mixture in the stone bowl burst suddenly into flame.

Nordithet was in the room quickly. He waved his hand and the fire in the bowl went out. She was still engrossed with her hands.

"What happened?" her teacher asked, bringing her back to herself.

"There were so many images," she said weakly. "All around the room, in a circle around me. I... had cut my hands, and was drawing strange symbols with the blood." She looked down at her hands again. She could still feel it, although it was fading rapidly. But there was no blood.

"In the images? The bowl showed you cutting yourself in some ritual? What did you see, exactly?"

"There were people... All around the room. There was some savage woman, and a priest with blood on him. And there was some man in a cave. He was drawing symbols, too. And he saw me. He said something about buying time, and failing, and something starting all over again."

"And there was some strange man. Something wasn't right about him, and he was scary. And why did the bowl start on fire? Was that supposed to happen?"

"Here," he said, pulling up a stool. "Sit down." She did, finding herself feeling more stable sitting down.

"Now, tell me exactly what you did and what you saw. Slowly. In detail."

She recounted everything from beginning to end, trying to remember as much detail as she could. After a moment, Nordithet stopped her and made her begin again, this time while he took notes in one of his many notebooks from his desk. He kept frowning, nodding, and shaking his head throughout, and periodically interrupted her to ask a question. By the time she was through, she was certain she must have done something wrong and he'd be upset. But he just sat there for a moment, looking off somewhere that wasn't in the room, thinking. Then he turned back to her, his brow furrowed with what looked like concern.

"From everything you've told me, Jetha, you performed the spell perfectly. However, it did not have the expected results. Normally, all the images you would see are confined to the liquid in the bowl, not in the room with you. What you've described sounds more like the form of premonition the druids use. Whomever you saw in the liquid in the bowl, it sounds as if she somehow deliberately interfered with your spell. Until we know who did this and why, we cannot be sure how far we can trust any of the images you have seen."

He closed the book and looked at her intently. "You said she seemed familiar somehow. I need you to try and remember where you've seen this woman before. For the moment, I will have to insist that you don't cast any further spells until we have answered some questions. If she can interfere with the spell you just cast, there is no telling what she might be capable of doing if she meddles with another. I will give you other tasks tomorrow, but I think that will be enough for today. In the meantime, I will do some further study on the druid magicks and see if I can find out what other things this woman is capable of."

"Yes Mr. Nordithet," Jetha nodded weakly. The idea that she couldn't do any more spellcasting until they were sure it was safe was almost as crushing as the visions had been. She wanted to cry.

"You may go now. But if you think of anything, especially if you remember where you've seen this woman, come tell me immediately. And wear this for now," he reached into a drawer and pulled out a small medallion on a leather cord and handed it to her. "It will help prevent others from casting spells upon you until we figure this out."

She turned it over and looked at it before putting it on. It appeared to be made of several gold circles overlapping one another. She slipped the leather cord over her head and tucked the medallion into her blouse.

"Good day, Jetha," he told her, turning and heading towards the bookcase. "Do not worry, I am confident we will figure this out in short time." He began pulling books from an upper shelf, sending a small cloud of dust flying around him in the process.

"Thank you, Mr. Nordithet," she replied glumly. "Good day." She left the room, still rubbing her hands together nervously.