The smoking, boiling ruins of Inari could be seen from the nearest Vulpen Island, Crescent, a jungle of ancient trees with two urban spaces: a marketplace on the harbor of the bay and the slope that led up to Castle Moondial.


    Built and carved into the stone at the highest point on the island, Castle Moondial towered over the rest of Crescent and cast a long shadow on the ocean below. Outside the castle, a crowd cheered wildly as Rafael Avalyn yelled a battle cry.


    Rafael was only fourteen, yet he had a strange magnetism. The audience held their breath as he attacked his opponent, feinted, parried, then danced around, spinning his staff beautifully.


    The sun was high and bright. The ocean breeze, cool and refreshing.


    Above the square and crowd, on a balcony built into the castle wall, sat Crescent''s stewarding family. They could see the entire island of Crescent from their seats.


    Steward Arthur Avalyn wanted to watch his son compete, but his attention was needed elsewhere. Captain Reynard was escorting an unfamiliar guest to the shaded balcony Arthur shared with his daughters Morgan and Lyn and his mother Henrietta. Only Arthur and Morgan stood to greet the man. Lyn was young enough, and Henrietta was old enough, to get away with remaining seated.


    "Welcome to Crescent, Good Brother. We''re honored by your presence," said Steward Avalyn. Captain Reynard stepped back to observe.


    Brother Timothy was short and gaunt, with strawberry blonde hair and black robes. A simple-looking man, except for the eye. His left eye was a vertical slit, like a cat''s eye. It had a soul-chilling effect, like looking into the eye of a killer.


    "The pleasure is all mine, Steward Avalyn," said Timothy with a grin, and Arthur believed it. Expectancy lit Brother Timothy''s face. The man was ecstatic, eerily so. They held hands in greeting, and a chill ran through Arthur''s body like ice down an empty stomach.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    "Your… arrival takes me by surprise, Good Brother. Of course, accommodations will be prepared. Perhaps you wish to retire before we discuss this new change in policy?" Steward Avalyn offered, hoping the good brother would leave so Arthur could cheer for his son. Arthur heard the audience groan in unison but stayed focused.


    "No, not at all. I insist on watching the show," said Timothy.


    Morgan vacated her seat for the Good Brother and moved to sit beside her grandmother.


    Timothy dropped into Steward Avalyn''s right-hand seat with pomp, still grinning. "I''ve been looking forward to this conversation. I''m here to inform you that the Lord Father assigned me to be your new Holy Advisor and your children''s new governor."


    Arthur''s response was immediate and well-rehearsed. "Of course, I bow to the wisdom of the Holy Father. Might I ask, why now?" Steward Avalyn chose his words carefully. "I only ask that I might serve Him better."


    The good brother remained silent, staring into Avalyn''s eyes with a grin. Arthur glanced toward his son and saw Rafael was in the corner.


    "Dutiful of you," Timothy quipped finally, demanding Arthur''s attention again. "It''s the Lord Father''s wish that all five Islands of Vulpex be consolidated into a single domain with a single emissary. Rafael is being considered for that position. I''m here to determine if he is deserving and, if he is, advise him."


    "That''s-- wow! That''s wonderful. We''ll prepare your room for an extended stay, then?"


    "I suspect I''ll stay here for the rest of my life," Timothy grinned.


    Arthur turned again to watch his son nimbly spin in the air, with the tip of his staff barely striking his opponent''s hand, breaking several bones. The man''s staff fell to the floor, and Rafael knocked it out of the square.


    Captain Reynard''s voice magickt in Arthur''s ear, "He''s trying to provoke a reaction out of you. We need to find out what he knows. I''ll send Apple to spy on him."


    "Excellent," Arthur cheered, but his mind was preoccupied. Good Brother Timothy was a snake if ever there was one, and Arthur invited the snake into his home! Not that he had a choice in the matter. Refusing an emissary of the Holy Father was suicide. The only response available to him was gratitude and humility. He hated it. Timothy''s smug smile burned into Arthur''s mind like an ugly brand.


    Meanwhile, the crowd below was chanting Rafael''s name. He won.