《He who stares into the abyss -A dark fairytale fantasy-》


 Chapter 1 -Once upon a ruin dreary-

    K-Kaw! K-Kaw! The harsh cries of an unseen crow cut through the fog-dampened silence of the frosty air.


    He awoke, the rhythmic pounding of pain in his skull irritated by the noise. Instinctively, he reached his hand to his aching head, or at least he tried to. As he moved, he felt his entire body bound save for the gritty feeling of cold stone beneath him.


    His eyes opened wide in fear, and the sight he found disoriented him further.


    There was something over his right eye, green and blurry due to its unsettling closeness. A leaf was resting so close as to almost wholly cover his eye.


    His left eye was uncovered; however, with his head fastened tightly in place, it was left to only glance around wide-eyed at the grey of a lifeless sky.


    He felt icy waves of claustrophobic panic run through him.


    He opened his mouth to scream in alarm. As his mouth opened, a vine around his face moved. A cascade of the dirt and debris it had rested in tumbled into his mouth. He choked and coughed on the unwanted intrusion as he fought with all his strength frantically against the vines that imprisoned him.


    There was a sound of ripping plant fibre and rustling leaves as she strained for freedom. He felt sharp pains across his arm as if someone was pulling out his arm hair. He ignored the pain and tore his right arm free from the binding vines.


    He reached frantically for his face and head, ripping at the vines. Each hurt as he pulled it free as if it had grown into his skin. He didn''t care, though. All pain was secondary to the mad scramble for air.


    With a final Rip, his head tore free of the vines. He turned it to the side and coughed out dirt-blackened spit and detritus. Finally, he was able to breathe and took in a shaky, ragged breath.


    He lay there looking at the endless grey of the sky above, listening to the thudding of his chest and the wheezing of his breath.


    Finally allowed the luxury of rational thought, his mind turned to the question of how he arrived in such a strange situation. How had he come to be here?


    Before he could come up with even an inkling of explanation, another much more troubling problem dawned upon him.


    He had no memory of who he was, not so much as the hint of a name or trivial memory remained in his mind. ''Remained'' was the right word, he decided. He lacked all sense of who he was before this moment, but still, a feeling remained, a memory of a memory, a certain feeling that he had once had all those things.


    He considered the problem. As he lay there, his breathing slowed to a more measured calm. He noticed his breath, a visible fog in the cold air.


    It reminded him of how cold he felt. As much as he wanted answers, he knew he''d not find them lying bound in the cold.


    He slowly pulled the vines from his body and realized that the pain he had felt from them had been from the plants growing into him. While it thankfully wasn''t deep, numerous hair-like roots had pierced his skin and left tiny droplets of blood. His already mud-covered body lost the last hints of the pale skin beneath with the added blood.


    How long had he lain here to have been buried like this under so much dirt and greenery? While memories were gone, understanding remained. How he had survived without dying from dehydration, starvation, or exposure was one more mystery that he placed on the ever-growing pile of questions that built in his mind.


    As he removed the plants, he realized the next problem; he had no clothes. He stopped and sat up, still half bound in vines, and as he did, he saw messy black hair flop down from his head into the corners of his vision.


    He looked around, searching for some clothes.


    He was atop a weathered altar-like stone table. Around him were silent, still ruins covered in moss and the same ivy-like vines that had bound him. The ruins were almost complete in their return to entropy; barely two stones stood upon one another. If it wasn''t for several ruined pillars lying jutting out of the ground at odd angles, he might not have even realized it was a ruined building.


    He shivered slightly in the chill of the dead, still air.


    He traced the patches of stone wall with his eyes and found the ruins circular with the altar at their centre. Several feet beyond them, a dense forest of gnarled trees began with an unnatural suddenness, as if even in its dilapidated state, the forest itself feared to tread upon the grounds of the ruin.


    There wasn''t so much as a holey sock, not even a scrap of cloth. He desperately needed to push back against the chill of the air.


    It was uncomfortably cold now, but if night fell before he found clothes, he feared hypothermia and death would be the most likely outcome. That aside, his body was covered with a hundred tiny cuts from the grasping roots of the vines. The cuts, dirty as they were, held the risk of infection.


    He removed the last of the vines and cautiously swung his slim legs over the side of the table; they dangled there helplessly, unable to reach the floor.


    The ground was engulfed by a tangled sea of vines. He gazed down, apprehensive of what might be hidden beneath the carpet of green leaves. Hesitant, he moved, sliding off the altar onto the obscured ground below.


    The vines gently pressed against his feet and lower legs, their leaves uncomfortably cold and wet from the morning dew.


    He carefully took a step forward, then another. His confidence began to rise as his third step met with calamity.


    His foot disappeared into the dense mess of vines and fell upon something cold, hard and slick. The object gave way underfoot with an audible snap. As his foot continued down, he felt the thing shatter with sharp shards starting to dig dangerously into his foot. Instinctively he pulled his foot back, saving it from being impaled, but fell heavily to the side with a thud.


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    He lay there, mentally adjusting to the sudden fall. He glanced forwards. Inches from his face, hidden in a knot of vines, was a skull staring back with an unwavering intensity that only empty eyesockets can achieve.


    "Aaaaagh!" he screamed, his voice youthful and high-pitched as he scrambled back on inverted all fours from his discovery. He sat there in shock, staring into the vacant eyes of the skull. After several long moments, he stood again, now more determined than ever to leave this ruin.


    He began to walk towards the edge of the ruins, gently placing one foot after the other as he stepped forwards, wary of what horrors his toes might find lurking beneath the calm green leaves.


    He stepped around the ruined outer wall. There, in front of him, was a several-foot gap of bare soil in front of him where nothing grew. Beyond that, a sudden wall of forest.


    The forest had the densest canopies he''d ever seen. Even where no shrubbery grew, the forest quickly gave way to a twilight dark. He tried to look deeper but could see little other than the occasional movement of branches that shifted in a breeze he couldn''t feel.


    The dead ground between where the forest and the ruins stood felt wrong and unnerving. He squatted down and studied it closely. The bare soil was immaculate in its lifelessness. No insects walked across it. Not even the smallest of plants were visible along its rough surface. He couldn''t see even a single leaf or branch fallen upon this ground from the surrounding forest.


    He picked up a small pebble from the ruined walls and gently tossed it towards the strange strip of land. He watched it fly forward, but as it crossed the threshold into the no man''s land, he instantly lost sight of it.


    Uncertain of what to make of the results of his test, he picked up a larger stone, about half the size of his fist. He threw the stone in a lazy arc, following the path of its smaller predecessor. Once again, as it passed into the dead zone, it disappeared. A loud clacking broke the uneasy silence in the ruin this time. It sounded like stone hitting stone, reverberating from the ruins'' opposite side.


    He instinctively flinched at the sound before ducking low behind the wall, looking across the ruins to see if he could find its source. But nothing moved within the silent ruins.


    He held tightly to the large stone in front of him, but after several seconds he forced his hands to relax. He glanced at a vine growing across the stone beside his hands thoughtfully for several moments before reaching out and gently tearing the vine free of the stone. He managed to get a long stretch. It was floppy but still rigid enough to hold it about two feet in front of him.


    Slowly he raised the vine towards the dead zone. As the vine passed into the strange area, the tip disappeared instantly. He pulled it back carefully, and the parts that had disappeared returned. He carefully inspected the tip but found no damage or clues as to what had happened to it. Next, he stuck the vine forwards again, this time looking to where he heard the sound. He saw the vine''s tip floating in the air in front of the dead zone on the far side of the ruins.


    He sat down heavily on the nearest ruined stone, staring at the vine. He could feel inner turmoil grinding away deep within, a constant grating force, like a quern upon the grain of his mind. Despite this pressure, or perhaps because of the surreal weight of it, it all felt strangely distant, like he was seeing through the eyes of a stranger, an alien unreality too strange ever to be real. He stood up at last, however surreal this felt. He knew this was real and that he didn''t have the time for such introspection now.


    He forced his mind to focus on the problem at hand. If the dead zone around the ruins looped back on itself all the way around, then he was trapped. He remembered the skull he''d stumbled upon minutes ago, and his mouth tightened into a hard line.


    He considered giving up, lying back on the stone table until cold or thirst took him from this hellish place. Despite that thought, he found himself slowly walking around the circumference of the ruin sweeping the impossible barrier with his vine in the hope of finding a hidden gap.


    He found what he was looking for as he reached the halfway mark around the ruins. The vine rematerialized in front of him, and he noticed a narrow grassy path crossing the dead zone set on either side with small menhirs, about a foot and a half tall, stained an iron ore rust red. He swept the stick up in case the path had a low ceiling but found none. It seemed there was no barrier to leaving here.


    He slowly stepped forwards, and as he did, the lighting instantly dimmed to the inky twilight of the forest. He looked around, trying to adjust his senses to the sudden change. The ruins were gone. He now stood in the forest, its weathered and twisted trees creating a high vaulted ceiling of wood and leaves that blocked out all but pinpricks of the sky that twinkled between the leaves like stars in the night.


    The only sign of the place he woke from remaining was the two Menheirs, side by side like silent guardians of the ruins'' secrets. He raised the vine once more between the stony guardians. As the vine passed between them, the ruin became visible to him again, but only through the narrow passage between the rusted Menhirs.


    Cautiously he stepped through and was back in the much brighter dead air of the ruin. He stepped back again into the forest. He wasn''t sure what help knowing he could return to the ruins gave him. Perhaps it would offer shelter from predators if there were any in these woods. He remembered the skull and was less sure of that idea.


    He slowly began wandering through the forest, careful not to lose his bearings. It felt colder here, with the lack of sunlight and a slight breeze that set leaves dancing with gentle gusts.


    As he continued, he found himself weakening as the adrenaline of the situation began to wear off, and the cold truly set in. His teeth began to chatter as he trudged through the seemingly endless forest.


    As he carried on, it got worse. His legs felt like they were wooden stumps. All he wanted to do was sit down and rest, but he feared that if he did, he might never get back up again.


    With a gust of wind, he caught the smell of something familiar. He froze in place, sniffing the air for several nervous moments before he caught a hint of it again. It seemed almost too good to be true. It was faint but familiar, the smell of wood smoke. He began trying to follow the smell, although he stumbled several times as he did. After a while, he saw sunlight ahead and, beyond that, a wall of rough wooden logs.


    He carried on forwards until he passed into the daylight, the sky was still dreary, but after the darkness of the forest, it now felt overpowering in its brightness. Ahead of him stood the rough wood wall. Its design was crude, but still, it was well over 20 ft and much too tall for him to climb. He could see faint whisps of smoke gently rising into the sky from behind it.


    He followed the giant wall around, and after several minutes of walking, he saw its entrance. It was a large wooden gate in the same style as the wall, and in front of it stood a tall man. He was dressed in roughspun clothes dyed a mixture of dull greens and browns, with several patches of various coloured cloths used to repair it. The guard was leaning casually with one hand on a spear while using the pinky finger of his other hand to clean his ear.


    He considered how to approach the guard. He knew nothing of these people or how they would react to a naked, bloody stranger strolling up to their gate. He felt so cold now, though. For all he knew, these were the only people in a thousand miles of here. If he did nothing, he would die. Knowing that it was all out of his control lessened the anxiety he felt as he walked slowly towards the guard.


    The guard froze in his earwax excavation attempts as he saw something approaching. At first, he thought it was a strange monster and began to level his spear towards it, but as it continued unflinchingly towards him at a slow, heavy-footed pace, he realized it was a boy no older than ten, covered in blood and dirt, staggering with exhaustion.


    The guard yelled for help as he rushed forwards to help the child.

 Chapter 2 -The crone and the boy-

    The time following the guard helping him was a blur of concerned faces, warm blankets and hot soup. He had been too exhausted to answer questions or pay attention to the events around him as he was bundled in a bed to keep warm and recover. Sleep quickly took him, but the dream that followed gave little relief.


    He was back on the stone slab, except now the ruins were rebuilt into a beautiful stone temple. Every surface was covered with a black script that seemed to flow, twist and turn, layering upon itself. It seemed almost alive and as if it sought to imprint its message on even the most passive of observers.


    The air was oppressively hot, made worse by the many braziers that filled the temple with red flickering light that caused shadows to skitter and contort across every surface.


    His focus was on something other than the temple or the brazier''s flames. It was on the scores of figures dressed in body-length robes of crimson, delicately trimmed with golden symbols that seemed jarringly, impossibly, unmoving and solid compared to the temple''s black script.


    As he lay upon the slab, statue still, he felt both wrong and right within himself. This was his body, yes. But a different soul sat at its helm.


    Then the chanting began with a low drone.


    He awoke screaming, pulling the covers off himself, ready for... something.


    He sat there wide-eyed for a moment before a movement out of the corner of his vision made him take his surroundings in.


    He was in a simple house with dirt floors, wattle and daub walls. He was lying on a crude bed of straw covered with blankets and animal skins. A small firepit, a spit and pot resting above, was at the centre of the room; its fire sunk to a few embers. Despite that, the room was well-lit as daylight streamed in from an open window.


    Sitting on a three-legged stool in the far corner was an old woman.


    Her bone-white hair was thinning to non-existence save scraggily patches hanging in messy locks.


    She was skinny to the point of being skeletal, with skin so pale and translucent that every last vein could be seen clearly beneath its parchment-like surface. Besides the many rings on her fingers, she looked poor in a threadbare robe that had once been black but repaired so many times that it was now a patchwork quilt of materials and colours.


    She moved painfully slow as her hand shakily raised a cup to her mouth to sip from it.


    Despite her seemingly fragile disposition, there was a look in her faded blue eyes, a look of power and perhaps a little madness.


    He stared at her as she stared unblinkingly at him. In the end, he looked away, unable to meet her diamond-hard stare.


    They sat in silence for a few moments longer before she spoke. "So, you''re awake."


    He waited several awkward moments expecting her to expand on her statement, but when she said nothing, he responded, looking down at the straw bed, "Uh, yeah?"


    "The Name is Hecate, Old Mother Hecate to you, boy. Sit up straight and look me in the eye when were speaking. I''ve no patience for fools, half-wits, and those too cowardly to speak their mind, so make sure you speak clearly."


    He pulled himself up straight from the slouch he had ended in after suddenly waking. The crone''s attitude made him feel uneasy, like a worm beneath the gaze of a merciless bird.


    "Now, let''s start with the basics. What is your name, or shall I refer to you as Boy?"


    "I- Uh-"


    "Don''t stutter. Take your time. Think before you respond."


    He paused nervously and took a deep breath before responding. "I don''t have a name, at least not one I remember."


    She raised an eyebrow in surprise at his statement. "How did you find yourself at my village, traipsing mud into my house?"


    He considered lying, but honestly, he knew so little about where or who he was. He wasn''t sure if any lie he told would get him in more trouble than telling the truth. So that''s what he did. He told her everything from waking up on the slab to his arrival at the village. The whole time Hecate sat in silence, listening, barely moving other than to take the occasional sip from her drink.


    When he finished, they sat in silence as Hecate considered his words. Then, at last, she spoke, "I see, you were smart enough to use a vine to escape, and your disposition seems marginally more mature than I''d expect from a child your age. Perhaps you aren''t entirely incompetent."


    "You have a choice. You can wander off back into the forest and probably be eaten by the first monster that catches your scent. You could go live with Alton and his brats, he''d teach you farming, and you could spend the next 50 years of your life pulling carrots out of the ground until you keel over and die. Or, well, you could stay here and help me."


    "What would you teach me?"


    She shrugged dismissively. "Well, not to be a complete moron. Any more than that comes down to how much you impress me, and frankly, I''m feeling pretty underwhelmed so far." She paused for a moment thoughtfully. "In the unlikely event you show promise; I can teach you magic. With that knowledge, you''ll be able to leave this village in the arse end of nowhere and maybe actually make something of your life."


    He considered the options but knew only one held any real appeal to him.


    "I''ll stay with you, Old Mother Hecate." He said, hoping the ancient woman would warm to him enough to teach him magic.


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    The woman slowly nodded. "It was an obvious choice, boy."


    "In that case, I''ll give you a name..." She said, lapsing into silent thought.


    After a moment, she looked him in the eye; her eyes were filled with madness and mirth as if she had discovered some grand and incomprehensible cosmic joke. "You shall be known as Refenial. It means a drudge or beast of burden in the old tongue."


    He felt the choice of name was a clear insult. However, with how little he knew of the world and this woman, He felt unable to directly challenge her on the slight.


    He nodded in acknowledgement of his new name.


    "Right, You''ll be needing clothes if you''re to be of any use to me, bo-, Refenial." She said, slowly standing. The pops and crunches of her bones were Audible to him even across the room.


    The Old Mother slowly retrieved a simple wooden walking cane from seemingly nowhere in a way that seemed to confirm her claims of magic.


    She hobbled across the room painfully slowly. As she reached out to him something else manifested in her hand, a set of clothes and a pair of wooden clogs. They''d once been green but, like her robes, had been patched many, many times until they were a riot of colours and materials.


    "Cloth is expensive up in these parts, so I mostly trade for scraps to repair what''s torn. These clothes are old, but they''re good enough." She said, handing them to him.


    She waited outside While Refenial dressed, which he quickly did before stepping out of the house.


    This was his first real moment of taking in the village behind the wall''s sights, sounds and smells.


    It was a simple place. The walls enclosed a large area, with even a few acres of fields. There were about 20 buildings that looked like houses and about the same again buildings for other purposes. A few buildings were built at least in part from wood, but most were simple wattle and daub with crude thatched rooves. The paths between the buildings were nothing more than muddy trails, and the village smelt strongly from a combination of wood smoke and the animals he could see penned up at several points across the settlement. In the distance, he could hear the sound of someone sawing wood. Nearby two young girls giggled with each other as they jogged through the village carrying bundles of sticks that seemed much too large to hold for such tiny bodies.


    At the village''s far side, a few small fields were pecked at by a pair of crows.


    Old Mother Hecate watched him taking in the village. "It''s a shithole, but then, where isn''t in one way or another." She said with a wan smile.


    "First things first, You''re going to chop my firewood." She took him around to the side of her house, where she had unchopped wood and an axe and began talking him through chopping the wood.


    She was merciless in pointing out every flaw in his technique and how he could do a better job. Refenial''s arms felt wobbly and useless by the time he had finished. After that, she showed him one chore she expected of him after another. With each one, she revealed that she expected nothing less than absolute perfection.


    As dusk fell, they sat in Hecate''s house around the fire, silently eating a simple stew he had prepared. Refenial felt too exhausted to speak, and Hecate seemed to like the silence.


    At last, Hecate spoke, "You did adequately for your first day, although you''ll not be sleeping in tomorrow, so you''ll have much more to do. Starting with going out with the children to collect kindling at dawn."


    He nodded tiredly at that.


    "Also, I''d recommend not telling others about your past. I''ve watched you fumble through every basic chore that a five-year-old would be expected to know today, so any lie you make up will fall flat. Instead, say nothing; people will make up their assumptions and fool themselves into thinking up an excuse for why you don''t talk about your past."


    "Will I be in danger if people know?"


    Old Mother Hecate snorted in a mocking laugh. "Boy, if you''re worried about danger, perhaps you should become a farmer. Even then, there''s plenty of danger for those cabbage wranglers."


    She paused momentarily before speaking again, "There are too many unknowns in your story. Plenty of powerful people would see you as a potential tool or prop to advance their power. Not to mention the risks that it would imply. A simple mind might simply assume you some kind of monster masquerading as a human and kill you for it."


    "Do you know why I was in those ruins or why I can''t remember anything?"


    There was a long silence other than the odd crackle of the fire. The flames cast strange shadows across Old Mother Hecate''s face as they sat there.


    "I have ideas, hunches, theories, but they''re not worth a crock ''o'' shit without more information. I can think of a hundred possibilities, and for at least half of them, I should do the world a favour and kill you right here and now." She chuckled darkly. "And, for another dozen, I should take you under my wing and make you into a weapon that even I would have feared in my youth."


    Refenial gulped audibly, his mouth suddenly dry despite the stew.


    "It''s getting late. Finish your stew. You''ll need your rest for tomorrow." Hecate said.


    The pair quickly finished their meal in silence and Went to bed. Refenial had, as one of his chores today, made a new bed of straw for himself in the opposite corner, and Hecate had also found an old blanket for him. Despite his exhaustion, it took Refenial a long time to fall asleep as he lay there listening to the raspy snores of the Old Mother.


    The next morning under Old Mother Hecate''s Direction, Refenial made a simple porridge and quickly tidied the hovel before heading out to the gate where he was to meet the other children.


    He was the last to arrive there, 11 of them, including himself. The youngest, the two girls he''d seen the previous day, looked about five, while the oldest, a lanky boy who looked about 15, stood there holding a spear, the only weapon among the group.


    The children looked fearfully at Refenial as he approached.


    "What do you want?" the boy with the spear asked in a hostile tone.


    "Uh-" Refenial paused, remembering Hecate berating him for stuttering. "Old Mother Hecate told me to go with you to collect kindling."


    A girl in the group who looked about 12 with long blond pigtails sighed melodramatically, "Do you really have to come with us? Can''t you go somewhere else? Old Mother Hecate is creepy; even my Dad says so. Nothing personal, but if you''re living with her, I don''t want anything to do with you."


    A skinny, freckled redheaded boy who looked about eight piped in, "If we don''t let him come with us, won''t Old Mother Hecate be mad?"


    The whole group went silent.


    "Fine..." The boy with the spear said with a mixture of disgust and exasperation. He then leaned towards Refenial, "I''m Maxit, I have the spear, I''m in charge. When we''re out there, you will not go out of sight, and you will listen to what I say; otherwise, I''ll leave you behind to be eaten by a monster."


    Refenial nodded in acknowledgement, not wanting to anger the person responsible for his safety. As they began to walk through the wooden gate, the redheaded boy walked beside him and started talking excitedly. "Hi, I''m Obit; what''s your name? Is it true you''re really living with Old Mother Hecate? Is she really as scary as the adults say? She seems scary to me, but I''ve never talked to her, only seen her around the village. Mommy and Daddy say I''m not allowed to. They said she''s misan-misatopic, whatever that means."


    Refenial felt overwhelmed by the barrage of words after spending time with only Old Mother Hecate, who was much less talkative, but tried his best to respond. "I''m Refenial. Yes, she''s scary."


    "Refenial, that''s a weird name. Do you come from far away? Are you secretly a noble? Oh! Oh! Or maybe a prince?"


    "I don''t want to answer that," Refenial said slowly.


    Obit gave him a knowing smile. "Don''t worry; I won''t tell anyone; your secret is safe with me!"


    As the group of children walked into the cool twilight of the ancient woodland, Maxit taking the lead, spear in hand, a figure watched from a distance, his senses honed for the dingy environment.


    "Oh me, oh me, oh my, I''ll have a scrumptious meal, simply delectable. Come, little ones, walk further away from those walls. I''m hungry, so hungry I must devour." the figure whispered under its breath in a constant stream of words, broken only by the occasional soft giggle.

 Chapter 3 -The Big Bad Wolf-

    Refenial and the party of children walked softly through the woods. Once they had passed under the great boughs of the trees, even the energetic Obit had gone silent, unwilling to break the sombre silence of the still forest''s air.


    The children, Refenial included, quickly collected sticks from the ground. Maxit, however, stood tall as he watched over them, occasionally glancing out into the forest''s gloom, his hand tight on the haft of his spear.


    The work was simple, but the children came to collect wood daily, so there was little to find in any particular spot. The group was constantly on the move as they slowly meandered through the forest.


    After about an hour of working through the forest, They heard the snapping of wood underfoot from behind one of the many bushes that dominated the forest floor. All the children froze in place except for Maxit, who tensed, spear raised into a fighting stance.


    "Stand behind me." Maxit hissed at the children in a stressed and urgent voice. Refenial and the other children quickly scampered behind him.


    After a moment of tense silence, the bush from behind which the cracking sound had come from rustled, and a gravelly voice called out from behind it to them. "Oh my, oh my, please forgive me, lovely, sweet children. I didn''t mean to startle you. Please forgive this poor old man his mistake."


    "It''s one of them," Obit said softly, but the pigtailed girl shushed him. Maxit glanced back at the group, his eyes fierce and his mouth pulled taught. His demand for silence clearly implied to the group Maxit turned back to the shrub.


    "That''s fine. Please, feel free to carry on with your day." He said slowly and carefully to the owner of the voice.


    "Oh, would that I could; would that I could. You see, I am but a poor travelling sweets merchant and I dropped my sweets on the ground. Please help me pick them up, and I will share them with you. With all your little hands, I''m sure it will be time for some delectable treats." as the voice spoke, it cracked here and there into a monstrous and hungry timbre.


    "One moment, good sir, and we will help you," Maxit said before turning around and bringing the children into a huddle to whisper to them out of earshot of what was behind the bush. "This one can talk, so it''s probably tough", Maxit whispered to the children.


    "what is it?" Refenial whispered back.


    "It''s a monster", Obit whispered. "They start out dumb but get smarter and tougher if they eat enough people. This one must have eaten lots of people to be this smart."


    "I''ll lure it out. If it looks too tough to kill, I''ll keep it busy while you all scatter. Head back to the village and get help." Maxit said.


    "but-" the pigtailed girl began.


    "No, there''s no time to discuss this. Do what you''re told," Maxit said, then turned away, making it clear he considered the conversation over.


    Maxit took a deep breath as he looked at the bush, then took several slow steps away from the children and towards the bush. He stood there still as stone in the calm of the forest, then slowly raised his spear, pointing it towards the bush in a defiant challenge of the unseen horror that lurked behind the verdant green. "I know you''re lying, monster. Come out and face me if you want to die." He called out loudly and with determination, breaking the quiet air of the forest with his words. Refenial could see Maxit''s free hand tremble slightly before the boy tightened it into a determined fist.


    The voice behind the bush laughed, "Very well, very well, sweet, delectable little one."


    There was a rustling and out stepped a colossal wolf walking on its hind legs. Anatomically it was a strange mishmash of human and wolf, though clearly more lupin than human in its build.


    Its movements were odd and shuffling, and each step was more akin to a dog walking on its hind legs than a human''s step. It stood well over eight feet tall, even with its slightly hunched posture, its hulking muscles clearly visible beneath its thick fur. Around its neck was a crude approximation of a necktie weaved from long grasses.


    It looked at the children, saliva languidly dripping from its hungry maw.


    Maxit stepped back, the shake of his hand even more noticeable as the monster emerged.


    The wolf walked towards Maxit and the children, its pace slow and unhurried, like a gentleman out for a peaceful evening stroll. The wolf''s eyes carefully watched the children as it drank in the fearful looks they gave it.


    The wolf slowly and deliberately reached out and casually scratched deep grooves into a nearby tree, clearly enjoying the terrified looks of the children.


    "Come, little ones, it''s snack time", the wolf mocked them.


    "Run!" Maxit screamed hoarsely as he charged spear first at the monster.


    As the other children began to scatter, Refenial could only stand still in horror as he watched the wolf casually swat Maxit''s spear away with only one hand. With the other hand, the wolf reached forwards, grabbing Maxit by the top of his head, the wolf''s substantial clawed hand quickly finding purchase on the boy''s skull.


    He lifted Maxit up by the head effortlessly and chuckled deeply to himself as he stared deeply into the squirming boy''s eyes and slowly licked his chops.


    Refenial realized his body was moving well before he consciously decided to do so. He ran forwards, grabbing Maxit''s spear that had fallen to the ground and charging at the distracted wolf. He screamed gibberish, his mind too lost to fear to articulate words as he stabbed the spear into the wolf''s side with terror-induced strength.


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    The spear slammed into the side of the distracted wolf. The unnatural toughness of the wolf stopped it from going far, but it still pierced the monster''s shaggy hide, making it howl in pain and surprise.


    As the monster jumped back from Refenial, in a combination of shock and surprise, it half dropped, half threw Maxit. The youth crashed into a nearby oak with a force that shook the venerable tree and guaranteed shattered bones at a minimum, if not instant death.


    The wolf snarled and snapped angrily at Refenial. It bared its yellow teeth, infuriated, its pride more wounded than its side.


    Refenial threw the spear clumsily at the wolf. The wolf''s gaze followed the spear, ready to sidestep it. Refenial''s throw went wide harmlessly falling to the forest floor. The wolf glanced back at Refenial, who was already running and began to give chase.


    The wolf roared with rage as it chased after him. "I''ll rip, and I''ll tear, till your body is broken and your spirit is mine to keep.", The monster declared, all hints of humanity gone from the monstrous and deep timbre of its unnatural voice.


    Refenial ran like his life depended on it, for it certainly did. The wolf roared towards him like a hurricane of death and devastation. While Refenial ducked and weaved under branches and around bushes, the wolf tore through it all, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake.


    The beast was faster, though, despite its misshapen legs. The sound of Refenial''s heartbeat drummed a deep and manic tattoo in his ears as he struggled to stay ahead of the wolf as it slowly gained ground.


    K-Kaw! K-Kaw!, a crow screamed out, its perch destroyed by the lumbering behemoth, and several more answered it in the distance.


    With a sudden burst of speed, the gap closed, the beast was upon him. The wolf slammed a clawed paw into a tree Refenial was passing by with such force that Refenial''s ears rang from the explosive noise. The tree, an ancient oak over 50 feet tall, groaned ominously as if at risk of being felled by the blow.


    Refenial''s path was blocked by the wolf''s arm. He looked up into its hunger-maddened eyes, uncertain of what to do.


    "You have annoyed me, little snack, and those others with you have got away." The wolf snarled.


    The wolf leaned forwards, his wicked sharp teeth inches from Refenial''s neck and ear. He could feel the hot wetness of the monster''s breath upon him and smell the sickening scent of rotten meat from its mouth.


    The beast began to whisper in Refenial''s ear like they were friends whispering secrets to one another. "I know you all came from the village near here, little one. Heh, after I devour you, I''m going to pay it a visit. Do your friends live there? or do your parents? I''m going to eat them all. Oh, with that many people in one place, it could take me days to eat them. Oh my, oh my, from the feet up, you''d be surprised how many days it could be before the first one even needs to die." The wolf''s voice exuded savage joy as it spoke. Refenial''s heart hammered in his chest harder than he thought possible at its words, and he felt a warm patch slowly spread across his trousers as his bladder involuntarily relaxed.


    The wolf slowly reached its free hand towards Refenial''s neck. Before he made contact, there was an angry screeching of birds as a murder of crows dived down upon the sadistic wolf.


    The wolf pulled back, swatting viciously at the crows.


    Refenial slipped to the ground in the chaos, his legs weak with fear. With a desperate drive to survive, he launched himself back and away from the wolf, running towards the wolf''s trail of destruction.


    It only took the monster moments to slay the crows, but Refenial was able to run several yards giving him a tenuous gap between himself and the wolf. By passing through the trail of destruction, he was also able to avoid obstacles, which stopped the wolf from gaining ground as quickly as it began to chase him again.


    The trail ended too soon, and Refenial found himself back where the fight started. Maxit was still slumped against a tree. He wasn''t sure if the older boy was unconscious or dead, but he didn''t have time to check.


    He ran for the spear, grabbed it from the ground and threw it again at the wolf. This time his aim was true. The wolf didn''t even break its stride as it batted the spear aside like it was no more than an annoying housefly.


    Taking the spear and throwing it had taken too long, and once again, the wolf was nearly upon him. It slowed as it got close, and it was silent this time as it glanced side to side cautiously, half expecting another attack from birds or a spear-wielding child.


    Refenial backed away slowly, walking several steps backwards until his back gently thumped into a tree. He was trapped once again.


    The wolf began to walk forward more confidently, a toothy smile returning. "Oh my, oh my, look at you all cornered and no birds to save you now." Refenial''s shoulders pressed hard against the tree as he stared at the wolf looming over him.


    Something small hit the top of the wolf''s head, bounced and landed on the ground between them.


    Both Refenial and the wolf looked down at it in surprise. On the ground was a small walnut still in its shell.


    Another nut bounced off the wolf''s head.


    The wolf whipped around with a frustrated snarl looking for their source, and quickly found it. Halfway up, in the bough of a nearby walnut tree, Obit stood. His small face was locked in a grimace of defiant opposition. "Hey, leave my friend alone, you stupid, uh, stupid head!" The small child shouted down, his voice wavering between anger and uncertainty.


    The wolf lowered his head momentarily before roaring up at the child, "Will no one let me eat in peace!"


    The wolf charged at the walnut tree, slamming into it with his substantial weight. There was a crash; wolf and walnut tree collided. This was followed by the sound of the tree''s tortured wood slowly snapping as the tree began to tilt further and further to the side as its trunk began to splinter and crack.


    "Woah!" Obit cried out as he struggled to keep his balance on the moving tree. The wolf ripped and tore at the tree, quickly destroying what little integrity the tree''s trunk had left.


    As the tree fell, Obit jumped from its branches. He cleared the falling tree but landed awkwardly on his ankle, screaming in pain. Refenial ran to the small child to help him, but Obit was clearly too winded and in pain from his fall to get up.


    The wolf roared incoherently as it stomped towards the pair.


    Refenial stood between the wolf and the prone figure of Obit.


    At that moment, Refenial was sure he was going to die. The inevitability of his impending demise weighed on him with all the weight of the world. The weight lifted from his shoulders as he realized that if he was to die, then nothing else mattered than this moment. His fear turned to a hot bubbling rage. Nothing mattered, nothing mattered beyond this one moment, himself, Obit and the wolf.


    The wolf roared at him angrily as it approached, and he screamed back at the wolf, his cry just as savage and primal as the wolf''s despite coming from the voice of a child.


    As the last vestiges of reason left Refenial''s mind, he charged at the beast, swinging wildly with his open palm.


    The wolf met his charge with its wickedly sharp teeth, biting down on Refenial''s open palm. The wolf shook his head violently, sending Refenial, whose hand was still imprisoned in his mouth, swinging back and forth wildly. Refenial screamed in an incoherent jumble of pain and rage, lashing out with his legs and free hand, his limbs colliding haphazardly with the wolf.


    With a crunching of bone, the wolf bit through his hand as it gave a final head toss, sending the boy flying.


    Refenial landed on the forest floor hard, bouncing twice before he finally came to a stop. He coughed uncontrollably as he used the last of his strength to roll his prone body over to see the wolf.


    The wolf grinned with satisfaction as it chewed on the half of Refenial''s hand he had left behind. His blood painted the fur on the wolf''s lower jaw and chest a deep red.


    With a final gulping snap of its jaws, the wolf finished its snack and advanced once more on the downed boy.

 Chapter 4 -She who rides silence-

    Old mother Hecate sat calmly on her stool, watching the flames of the fire as they slowly consumed the wood. The wood, in turn, let out the occasional distressed crackle and pop as it gave into its inevitable fate, leaving only bitter grey ash behind.


    Memories of days long past drifted through her mind. Many were sad, but even the happy moments were now turned bittersweet by time''s unstoppable tide.


    A sound began to gently intrude on her ruminations as she sat there, and it quickly grew louder, disrupting her thoughts entirely. She listened; it was the sound of worried people running and shouting at and to one another. One pair of footsteps ran to her house, followed by a loud panicky pounding on her door.


    "Come in!" she called out as she banished the last thoughts of the past from her mind.


    Alton burst through the door, his face pale and sweaty. "Old Mother, you must help! The children have been attacked in the forest! Most of the children are back, but Refenial and my son are still missing. The children say it killed Maxit in one blow!" He blurted the words out so fast it took a moment for her brain to process the jumbled mess of words.


    "Please, old mother, I can''t lose Obit. I can''t lose another son." He begged, his eyes starting to tear up.


    Hecate sat silent and unmoving. She had so little power left. She couldn''t waste it, couldn''t hasten her death. She wanted to refuse him, on any other day she might have, but with Refenial out there, she had to commit. Her instincts told her he was too valuable to lose to bad luck.


    Alton looked ready to explode with nervous, fearful energy as she sat statue-still.


    "Fine," She said tersely.


    She half closed her eyes as she slowed the speed at which the enchantment that kept her alive drew mana. For a brief moment, she would once again have a sliver of power.


    Alton jerked back in response as the already ancient-looking crone seemed to age years in less than a second.


    Old mother Hecate began to rise from her stool. Her usually slow, shaky movements were now reminiscent of a marionette guided by a graceful puppet master. Slowly and unnaturally, she rose beyond even her height until she floated above the ground save the tips of her wooden clogs that slid gently over the floor''s surface as she began to drift forwards.


    Alton was so enraptured by the sight he almost forgot to move out of her way as she slid past him with unnerving silence. Old Mother Hecate flew out her door towards the village gate, the tips of her shoes leaving two winding trails in the mud as she went.


    A group of village men were by the gate readying to leave, their faces solemn and determinedly grim. The faces of hard men who lived hard lives and knew what it was like to face tragedy. They carried a motley assortment of spears and tools pressed into service as makeshift weapons. They looked to Old Mother Hecate as she passed, hope and a little fear in their eyes as they saw her unnatural movement. She paid them no mind, never one to care for the opinions of others.


    She flew out past the village into the cool, dim air of the forest. Its usually deathly silence was defiled by a distant and unnatural roar. She quickly flew towards the sound, weaving through the forest''s many obstacles.


    She saw Maxit first. The boy was slumped against a tree. She half closed her eyes momentarily, tilting her head to the side as she opened the eyes of her soul and looked at the boy. His soul still remained but showed signs of being close to leaving. He was close to death but not yet there.


    There was another roar, much nearer this time, and she flew towards it.


    There stood on two legs, an enormous wolf monster chewing happily on something. It snapped its jaws gleefully, the blood of whatever it was eating staining its lower jaw and chest a shiny crimson.


    She looked at the creature that would have once been beneath her notice yet now cost so high a price to fight with mild distaste.


    Across from the savage beast, lying on the ground, was Refenial. The lanky boy''s black hair was dishevelled. His body was coated in a mixture of dirt from the forest floor and blood that poured from a ruined hand, and numerous minor scratches.


    The wolf began to advance with a confident pace towards the downed boy but stopped after only a step and a half to cough awkwardly once, then again. It paused in its coughing, but then its throaty coughing began again as a long ragged burst. It wined piteously between coughs and spoke, "What, what, you taste wrong little one." The wolf coughed more and more as it began clawing at its own mouth, trying to remove any trace of Refenial''s flesh.


    Old Mother Hecate watched with cold interest, still unnoticed by the wolf.


    "Disgusting, disgusting, vile! What are you? What are you?" the wolf''s voice raised to a choking scream as it ranted at Refenial. Refenial lay still, too bloodied and beaten to respond.


    "Unnatural, vile thing, abomination! Abomination! It burns, it wriggles and writhes! What are you? What are you?" As the wolf finished speaking, it began walking again towards Refenial.


    "Stop," Hecate said softly.


    The wolf halted in its tracks, held tightly in the invisible bindings of the magic she effortlessly wove upon it. The wolf''s raised foot hovered midstep, unable to reach the ground.


    The wolf turned his head and noticed the Old Mother for the first time. It whined again as it met her eyes and saw a monster more terrible than itself look back.


    "Please, please, old one, kill me if you must, but that thing is wrong, wrong, wrong, unnatural, kill it, kill it, kill it but don''t taste, don''t devour it. I tried to savour it, but now it burns, it wriggles and writhes, it might devour me." The wolf babbled, whispering the last few words.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Hecate carefully kept her expression neutral. She had suspicions about the boy, but they were much more guesses than certainties. She''d never seen a monster react like this before, and there were few things in this world that she hadn''t seen before. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her tone sharp.


    "That little one, he''s not a little one, but he is a little one. He tricked me. He tricked me, deceived me, he''s wrong, vile, vile, kill it, kill it." The wolf''s eyes opened wide in fear. "It''s started. It''s devouring me! It''s devouring me!" The wolf''s voice started in a low whisper but quickly became a deranged scream.


    The wolf started fighting against the spell that held it bound with its full strength. While it moved not even one iota, its muscles twisted and bulged under its pelt. The wolf abruptly stopped struggling in the spell''s grasp, seemingly unconscious.


    Hecate half closed her eyes and opened those of her soul, focusing on sensing deeper into the wolf than any non-magical means could.


    She caught sight of the monster''s twisted and half-built soul, exactly as she''d expect from a beast like this. Then she sensed something else. A pinprick of darkness latched onto the monster''s soul. The tiny speck began to grow as it ate away at the monster''s soul-consuming it faster and faster as it went.


    As it grew, it became like an abyss of absolute darkness, a wrent of perfect null in the beast''s soul.


    Suddenly it stopped, and as Hecate stared into the abyss, she realised it was staring back with an alien intelligence that made her feel like a small child compared to the crushing feeling of age it exuded.


    She no longer felt safe in this interrogation. Her instincts, honed by a lifetime of not dying when most would have, screamed at her to kill this dark horror now. With a fluid motion, she conjured a rough-forged and functional single-edged copper sword into her hand and sliced the monster''s head from its body with a single swing.


    As she released the spell holding the wolf, and it fell to the ground dead, she watched it with cold, unyielding focus until she was certain that both the soul of the wolf and the abyss had fizzled away.


    She couldn''t ignore what she had seen. She turned to Refenial, her sword held loosely at her side as it dripped lupin blood onto the forest floor.


    She focused in on him again like she had when first meeting him, like she had just with the wolf moments ago.


    Deep inside him, she saw his soul, it wasn''t the soul of a child, but it was an ordinary soul, the soul of a human, most likely. That wasn''t what unsettled her, though. What troubled her about it was the subtle signs of tooling and crafting upon its surface. It had been skillfully reforged, warped and rebuilt. Someone had forged the soul into a perfect sphere, an armoured ball of soul. It was impenetrable and egg-like in its secrets.


    She could have smashed the soul and forced her way in, but that would Destroy it and remove all hope the boy may be of use to her. She''d try avoiding that if she could.


    As she looked at the soul, she noticed a tiny crack, an imperfection left from the wolf''s attack, and for the briefest of moments, she felt the abyss once more before the break sealed itself.


    She sighed, feeling deathly tired and sent the blade away to the magic space it usually resided in before lowering herself to the ground and pulling her walking cane from the same space.


    She walked to Refenial, who was lying there bloodied with tears silently welling in his eyes as he held his ruined hand.


    With her cane she gently poked his side, where his top had torn, in one of the few spots of his skin left unbloodied and unbruised. "I go to all that effort of repairing that top for you, boy, and you can''t even go two full days without ripping it to ribbons."


    The boy sobbed as tears began to flow freely down his cheeks. Old Mother Hecate slowly and awkwardly bent down to bring herself closer to him. She reached forwards and gently placed her pale bony hand on his forehead. "I will stop the bleeding, and I have ways of mending your hand, but now isn''t the time."


    She gently released a healing spell into Refenial. She was as frugal as her skills would allow, focusing on what was required and little more. She had spent so much, too much. She wouldn''t risk an ounce more than was absolutely needed.


    As the soothing healing energy finished washing over him, Refenial asked her, "Please, Maxit was hurt real bad. Obit was hurt too."


    Hecate nodded. "Lay still and recover. I''ll see what I can do."


    She looked around and saw Obit sitting on the ground. He was carefully looking at a swollen ankle, but other than that and a few bruises seemed fine, so she instead headed over to the silent form of Maxit.


    The boy was still slumped against the tree where she had first seen him.


    She gently touched his forehead, using a spell to assess the damage. It was catastrophic. Almost every bone in his body was fractured, if not broken, and his organs ranged from merely damaged to almost wholly destroyed. His spine primarily had borne the brunt of the damage as he had hit the tree back first, and it was now smashed beyond repair to all but the most powerful of magic.


    It would take more mana than she could afford to heal these injuries, to make the boy walk again and live a normal life. She could heal him enough to live, but life was harsh in the village. Perhaps his family would be happy today to know the boy lived. What would happen to the boy''s dignity as he saw his kin sweat and toil to care for him, feed him, and wipe his arse.


    Winters were always harsh, but what would happen when the crops failed as they always did. Feeding every mouth was a struggle; death wasn''t unheard of. His family would be forced to choose between taking food from their healthy children''s hungry mouths to feed Maxit or taking on the burden of putting him out of his misery themselves.


    She''d done so many things, and so many had died at her hands. What was one more if it brought some small mercy to the world?


    His heart beat weakly in his chest. It took only the tiniest tendril of magic, and the boy was to never wake.


    She lifted her hand away and saw a crow settle in a nearby tree. As she turned to face it, she heard the footsteps and shouts of the village men rushing towards them.


    She turned to face the men as they approached. They paled when they saw the corpse of the wolf and noticed Old Mother Hecate, her clothes stained with its blood.


    "The monster is dead, and so is Maxit. Obit has a twisted ankle. Refenial is more injured but safe to move to the village." She told them.


    The men gawked at her, still trying to catch up with her words.


    She recognised a man at the back as Maxit''s father. He dropped to his knees, his axe falling from his hand as he released great heaving sobs of grief.


    "Take the children back to the village. I still have something to do here." Hecate commanded, walking away from the group.


    Once she got out of sight and earshot of the villagers, she stopped waiting in the murky twilight of the forest. One after another crows silently flew in and landed on the branches of surrounding trees.


    Soon the trees were heavy with them as they sat in every branch and bough like dark fruit of the dark forest.


    "I see," Hecate said to the murder of crows.


    The murder squawked back; their sharp cries sounded like merry laughter.


    "Why did you let him come to me, though? You know I''d kill you if I had the strength left in me."


    Every crow shrugged in perfectly choreographed unison.


    "Why don''t you come here and speak to me directly instead of hiding behind your birds?" She taunted up at them.


    The crows stayed still and unresponsive to her questions.


    "When the wolf tried to eat him, it managed to get some of his soul. I saw what was underneath."


    The murder turned its collective heads in curious unison.


    "You don''t know. You don''t know what he is, either. Do you?" She said, smiling in satisfaction at the revelation.


    K-Kaw, the birds squawked angrily.


    Old Mother Hecate looked up at the birds, smiling with malice. "Well, he''s mine now. I''ll not let you use him as a tool in your machinations, and I saw what he can do to your kind. Now begone, or I''ll sic him on you after I''m done training him."


    The crows cried angrily as they all took to the sky in their numbers, turning the twilight forest into midnight darkness.

 Chapter 5 -Clash of titans-

    Refenial was bundled into a villager''s strong, gentle arms, who easily carried him. The smell of woodsmoke and sweat sat heavily on the man and, while unpleasant, reminded Refenial of the relative safety that could be found behind the village walls.


    He cried a constant stream of tears as they travelled through the forest back towards the village.


    He cried from the fear and pain he had felt at the mercy of the big wolf, he cried at the damage done to his hand, but most of all, he cried at the death of Maxit. He had only known Maxit for a few hours, but the boy saved all their lives and died a true hero in that time. The lifeless look on the older boy''s face and absolute despair on Maxit''s father''s face when he saw his son haunted Refenial every time he closed his eyes.


    Soon they were through the village gate, and the villager carrying him took him to his bed and tenderly placed him in it.


    Within moments a village woman came in to clean him up, tending to his wounds and dressing him with fresh clothes. When she saw his tears, she hugged him in silence as the hours passed and the tears slowly dried.


    As the evening began to fall, Old Mother Hecate returned, and the villager quickly left, clearly uncomfortable being in the old woman''s house. The Old Mother sat in silence as she stirred a pot of soup over the fire, having not said a word since returning. Refenial looked at the elderly woman, stooped low with age. Her shaky hand struggled to stir the pot. She seemed much older now, her body frailer and her eyes more tired.


    "Is the forest always that dangerous?" He asked at last to break the stifling silence.


    The old woman snorted bitterly. "Do you think the villagers would send their children out every day if it was? No, monsters are common, but even a child can defeat most monsters if they keep their wits about them. They''re usually nothing more than a small creature twisted slightly in some way. A Rabbit with serrated teeth, a ferret that can glide, that sort of thing is usually the worst to expect.


    There probably hasn''t been a monster like that wolf in these parts in 50 years."


    "Why then? Why did it kill Maxit? Why was it here?" He pleaded to know.


    "Monsters, at least of that kind, well, to put it simply, they''re born with no soul, so they devour people to steal their souls, which they then use to make their own.


    That wolf must have killed hundreds. He was a good way along to having a complete soul."


    "S-so Maxit?"


    She gave him an annoyed look. "Don''t stutter, boy, and say what you mean. Have the strength to say what you mean to say. Don''t hide behind vague questions. As for Maxit, his soul went wherever souls go when people die. The monster killed him, but it didn''t eat him."


    "I tried to save him."


    "I know, and it was a damn stupid thing to do too." She snapped at him.


    "So I should have just let him die?" He asked, shocked.


    "All you achieved by stepping in was getting Alton''s boy beaten black and blue from a tree nearly falling on him and losing half your hand."


    "But I saved Maxit''s soul; you said so."


    "Yes, and what difference does that make to the living? His parents are simple farmers who don''t know how monsters grow by devouring souls, and all they know is that their child is dead."


    "what about Maxit''s soul? He risked his life to save all of us."


    "What about yours? What about Alton''s boy''s soul? You risked both fighting a monster you had no hope of winning against." She sighed, putting down the spoon she was stirring with to look across at him. "As for Maxit risking his life? He was a fool too. I''ve known a lot of self-styled heroes, boy. They tend to die in horrible, grisly ways. Not just them either. Their friends and family get dragged down too. Heroics is fine as an act, but once the blood starts flying and people start dying, don''t think about what''s right or wrong. Think about what''s smart or dumb and what it''ll take to wake up tomorrow."


    "You''re a bitter old crone," Refenial said hatefully.


    Hecate stared back, her eyes as cold as a winter''s storm. "And don''t you forget it, especially the old part. I''ve outlived more tragedies than you can imagine, and I''ve grown old when most everyone I know who does what I do dies young and dies screaming."


    The pair sat in an uneasy silence.


    "Soups done," She said in a lighter tone as if they hadn''t just been arguing moments ago.


    As they sat there eating, Hecate raised her spoon and jabbed it into the air vaguely in the direction of Refenial''s hand. "I said about fixing that, and I said about teaching you magic. I think we will combine those."


    Refenial looked down at his right hand, three of the four fingers missing as well as a large chunk of his palm, leaving only his pinky and thumb and even then, neither digit seemed capable of moving anymore. The damage still felt surreal, as if he''d wake and find his fingers back at any moment.


    "What do you mean?" Refenial asked, wary of what she was planning.


    "There are two types of magic. Well, there''s two types of magic worth mentioning. Firstly there''s ''lesser magic'' or, as some call it, ''systemic magic''. It''s got its benefits, and in the right hands, in the right situation, it is even powerful. It''s limited, though. It''ll do what it''ll do, no more, no less."


    She paused to let him consider this.


    "Then there''s ''true magic''. Now, that''s where real power lies. That is the magic that any immortal worth his salt learns, the really powerful ones; they learn a type of true magic known as ''scriptic magic''. With enough mana, if you know what you''re doing, it''s limitless in its use."


    She chuckled darkly. "Course, you mess up scriptic magic; it''s also limitless in the ways it can kill you or make you wish it had."


    "Immortals, so there''s humans that live forever?"


    The old woman tutted irritably, "No, boy. I''m the closest to that. ''Immortals'' is what people call all the things that don''t die easy: monsters, fae, beings of inscrutable nature. When a person has all the time in the world, they tend to pick up a nasty magic trick or two. They tend to be paranoid, scheming bastards too, and they have to be if they want to live long enough for being immortal to be worth a damn. Being immortal doesn''t usually make you immune to being stabbed."


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    "So, which magic are you going to teach me?"


    "A little true magic, then lesser magic. I''d also teach you some scriptic, but we probably don''t have the time."


    "What do you mean, is something going to happen?"


    "There hasn''t been a monster in these woods like that in 50 years, and it happens to turn up a few days after you and instead of attacking the village, something a monster of that power would normally do, it went after a bunch of little children in the woods. And let''s just say a little birdy told me whoever sent it wasn''t the only one who took an interest in you."


    "I-it''s my fault we were attacked?"


    "No child, but if you are given the chance of power I am giving you now and squander it through mediocrity, apathy or indecision, then your weakness and everything that comes from it will be your fault, and every death that comes from it will be blood on your hands."


    "How will this all help my hand?"


    "Lesser magic, those with lesser magic will heal wounds faster. They''ll even regrow missing limbs. Don''t get cocky with it, though. Dead is dead, and there''s no coming back from that. There''s plenty of illnesses, poisons and diseases that it does nothing for, even some injuries if they''re bad enough. But a few fingers, it''ll have no problem with that."


    "Why, why are you helping me?"


    "Why indeed. Now it''s getting late. Let''s sleep now."


    Later as He tried to sleep, he still struggled, seeing the moment of Maxit hitting the tree over and over again in his mind, reliving the sickening feeling of wrongness he had felt as the monster whispered into his ear. Even when he finally found sleep, it was troubled once more with visions of the ruined temple and strange figures chanting.


    He awoke in the morning to find his old clothes by the bed repaired with even more patches of disparate cloth.


    He dressed as quickly as he could but found it slow going due to his wounds. Once dressed, he found Old Mother Hecate, who guided him through his revised chores. He was thankful that she didn''t expect him to get more kindling from the forest, but as he moved around, he saw in the distance, the rest of the children save Obit, whose leg was still injured, going out¡ªthis time with two adults as guards.


    He found even the simplest tasks much more challenging with only one working hand. Despite this, Hecate was still exacting in her expectations, constantly correcting and chiding his work.


    Once he finished, Hecate had him bring her stool out to a small grassy green near the centre of the village and had Refenial sit on the grass in front of her.


    Once he had sat, she began to talk. "The first step of learning true magic is so simple a half-wit could understand, yet it''s been the death of magic seekers smarter than you''ll ever be, Refenial." Old Mother Hecate said, pausing for emphasis. "Don''t do anything I don''t tell you to. Listen exactly to what I say and do nothing more. Do you understand?"


    "Yes." He said, glancing behind her as he noticed Obit hobbling towards them, leaning on a large stick for support.


    Old Mother Hecate noticed his gaze and stiffly turned to see the boy nearly to them. Both watched in silence as the injured boy approached.


    Obit''s breath was slightly laboured from coming over to them, his hands and arms marked with scabs from his fall. "Old Mother Hecate, Refenial," He said, giving an awkward approximation of a bow while still holding the stick for support.


    "This isn''t a royal court, and you''re a farmer''s son, not some young lordling. Why are you bowing?" Hecate asked coldly.


    "I wanted to thank you for saving me. Mommy and Daddy always said not to talk to you so they''ll be mad, but both of you saved me, saved me from the..." Obit''s face scrunched up as he was unable to finish the sentence.


    "I see," said Hecate neutrally.


    Obit brightened slightly, and he leaned forward on the stick and whispered theatrically, "Also, I worked it out. I know your secret. Don''t worry. I''ll keep it a secret, I promise."


    Hecate raised her eyebrow. "And what secret would that be?"


    "Well, I already worked out Refenial is a noble or a prince or something. And I saw you do magic, real magic! Not making turnips disappear like Uncle Ha-"


    Hecate interrupted Obit''s rambling, "Focus."


    "Oh, right, sorry, I worked it out. So you must be a wise and kind magic teacher who''s looking after Refenial till he goes home to become king or lord or something. Everyone thinks you''re mean and scary and really, really, really, really old, but I know you''re just pretending. Well, except about the old part. You do look really, really, really old. It''s just like the stories I get told at bedtime."


    Old Mother Hecate''s face twitched slightly as she listened to the boy.


    Obit continued, unfazed by the old woman''s silence. "Anyway, I wanted to ask Refenial if I could be his squire. I don''t know what a squire is exactly; I think it might have something to do with horses. But then we could work together and be heroes and save princesses and stuff."


    "No." Old Mother Hecate said firmly, turning away from the boy and back towards Refenial.


    Obit''s face scrunched up again for a moment before he smiled. "I knew you''d say that, but my Daddy told me a story once about a brave knight who asked a princess to marry him, and she said ''no'', so he asked again and again for more than a hundred days and even did a bunch of stuff like killing monsters for her and in the end she said yes. So that''s what I''ll do even if it takes more than a hundred days. I''ll come and ask you and do anything you ask, though I don''t think I can kill a monster. Then you''ll say yes!"


    Old Mother Hecate looked back at Obit, leaning away from him slightly. A hint of uncertainty in her expression.


    After a moment, she pulled herself up to as close to her full height as her decrepit body would allow and looked down at the boy with an imperious expression. "I''m an ancient and powerful witch; you''re a small, fragile child. Are you really so foolish as to threaten me?"


    Obit crossed his arms and glared back defiantly. "I''m not threatening you; Mommy says you should never threaten people even when they''re mean, like you''re pretending to be. I''m promising you."


    Hecate looked at Refenial with a pleading look, but he stared back in surprise. This was the first time he''d seen her looking so flustered. Even against the wolf, she''d been nothing but calm.


    Hecate slumped slightly. "Fine, if you want a task to prove you''re serious. I''ll give you a task. Can you read, little boy?"


    Obit shifted nervously. "A little but readings boring. I''d much rather go on an adventure."


    Hecate pulled a sizeable leather-bound book out of seemingly nowhere, "This is a very large and very boring book. If you want to be a squire that badly, then reading this is part of that. Do you give up?"


    "Never." Obit said, clenching his fists in cold determination as he stared at the book like a hero staring down a dragon.


    "A squire should be a master of etiquette. This book would teach a young squire everything he should know about how to behave in the company of those of a noble station. It is very long and very boring with lots of big words." The Old Mother spoke in a soft tone, but the iron cold of her meaning was poorly hidden beneath it.


    "To be a squire, I''d have to read it all?" Obit said still not breaking his staring contest with the book.


    "And memorize every word. Now will you go away?" She asked hopefully.


    "Give me the book, and I''ll remember it all," Obit said, transferring his gaze to the crone.


    Refenial watched the back and forth between the two, very glad he was being left out of the conversation. The pair were staring at each other with such determination that he felt mountains would sooner crumble than either would back down.


    "You can take it but make me a promise you''ll not speak to me again until you''ve remembered every last boring, self-righteous, pompous word of this damn book." Old Mother Hecate said with the cold satisfaction of someone who knows they''ve won.


    "I promise!" Obit said excitedly, his face gleeful at his victory.


    "Here you go! And remember, a true squire keeps his word, so if you ever speak to me again without finishing that book, you can never be a squire." Hecate said, shoving the book towards him.


    Obit gave a defiant nod before taking the book and storming away with as much vigour as he could manage while still hobbling and carrying the large book.


    Old mother Hecate relaxed slightly, glancing at Refenial as if she had forgotten he was there.


    "I''m not a noble. Won''t he be mad if he finds out?"


    "Children like that have no sense of commitment, and that book is the driest, most boring pile of drivel I''ve ever had the misfortune of reading. He''ll give up before the day ends, and then we can be left alone without being disturbed by the rude brat."


    "But what if he reads the whole thing?"


    "What if the sky turned yellow? What if I woke up tomorrow young and beautiful? There''s no point worrying about impossibilities. That book would put a scholar to sleep. If he reads it, he''d be the most stubborn person I''ve ever seen outside of a mirror." She said dismissively.

 Chapter 6 -Sweet hero-

    "As I was saying before the idiot child interrupted us. If I''m going to teach you this, you''ve got to listen to everything I say." Hecate said, clearing her throat.


    Refenial nodded.


    "The first thing is learning to see the flow of mana. It''ll take you time, you won''t get it today or this week even, but once you do, it''s very important that you don''t try and control it. That lesson will come later. If you are foolish, people will die that don''t need to die. Do you understand?"


    "Yes, Old Mother Hecate." Refenial nodded again


    "Right, now sit still, back straight, no squirming and close your eyes."


    Refenial straightened and winced slightly from the pain of his injuries as he closed his eyes.


    "Good. Now sit even more still. You''ll need to breathe, but even with that, breathe with only the slightest of movements."


    Refenial focused on his breathing, slowly minimizing the movements as he sought to school his body into stillness.


    "Well, that''s a start, I guess. Keep working on that, and I''ll tell you when to stop." He heard Old Mother Hecate say.


    Refenial sat there as still as he could, trying to focus on his breathing, but as he did, he felt his thoughts kept drifting back to the forest, the sound of Maxit hitting the tree and of his father''s anguished sobs.


    "Stop it!" Hecate snapped. "I said, sit still. That means your mind too. I can see your thoughts all over your face."


    Refenial tried to focus back on his breathing but struggled to. Every time Refenial''s mind began to wander, usually back to thoughts of Maxit, Hecate would scold him.


    With his eyes closed, Refenial couldn''t tell how long had passed, but eventually, Hecate said, "That''s enough for today, boy."


    He opened his eyes and saw the old woman still sitting in front of him. "Your mind is too unfocused. Why can''t you concentrate?"


    Refenial stared intensely at the grass between them. "Maxit." He said softly.


    Old mother Hecate sighed, slowly raising a hand to rub her temple. "I forget that you''re a child sometimes. You''re more mature and competent than I''d expect for a child of your age, and your soul, well, you aren''t a child in many ways. I suppose that was the first death you saw."


    Refenial nodded, his eyes hot and stinging.


    "I remember the first death I saw. I was four, maybe five. He was an old drunk, I''d grabbed his purse, and he was chasing me. His heart gave out. Damn lucky, too. I''d have got a thrashing for sure if he''d caught me." Hecate stared into the distance as she spoke, "I remember looking into his eyes as he died. I was too scared to do anything else, too scared to run. I saw as life left his eyes."


    Hecate shook her head gently. "Anyway, death is a part of life. The more you live life, the more you''ll see death. Some mad hermit living alone in a cave might not ever see another person die. Someone who makes friends, family, enemies, takes risks, enjoys the rewards of life, they will see plenty of death and loss. It''s the price of a life lived, so you can either accept it or let it destroy you."


    After several moments Hecate cleared her throat and spoke again. "Anyway, that''s enough magic practice for today. There''s other stuff you''ll be needing to learn." She pulled out a book similar to the one she had given Obit but smaller and thinner.


    "Can you read?" she asked as she handed the book to him.


    He took it awkwardly, placing it in his lap. Slowly he opened to a random place, looking down on its musty pages. As he first looked at it, the letters hand-scribed on the page made little sense, but as he continued to stare at it, a feeling of understanding slowly washed over him, and he began to read aloud. "And thus, it is often speculated among scholars that the realm of the fae is present in all places and times, not just at the boundaries at which they may cross. Some, in this author''s humble opinion, less reputable scholars even posit that the fae are always able to watch all places in this realm and often do so. While this would explain their uncanny ability to know secrets and obscurities-"


    "Good, that makes things easier," Hecate said, interrupting him.


    "Wait, might these fae know why I was in those ruins?" Refenial asked hopefully.


    "Maybe, though, who knows. And no, before you ask, dealing with the fae is very dangerous. They never give a straight answer unless you force them to. Their minds are like twisted mazes of scheming, cryptic smugness."


    The conversation made Refenial think of the dreams he''d had about the ruins. He decided to ask the Old Mother. "I keep dreaming about the ruins. In the dreams, the ruins aren''t ruins, they''re a temple, and there are men in red robes who chant."


    "Anything else you can remember from the dreams?"


    "Yes, it''s really hot, and there are these strange black symbols running across the temple. Does it mean anything?"


    "Probably. Tell me again exactly where the ruins were in the forest. I think I''ll visit them tomorrow."


    Refenial described the path he took from the ruins as best as he could, and after that, Hecate took the first book back but gave him several more. They were all hundreds of years out of date but detailed the history and culture of the region. Refenial even learned that the village was situated on the edge of a country known as the kingdom of Frull.


    They went to bed after supper as usual, and eventually, he drifted asleep to the same dreams as always. When he woke the next morning, Hecate had already left, so he went through his daily chores as he''d been instructed yesterday. Once he was finished, he sat by the window reading. Several times as he glanced up, he noticed Obit still hobbling, walking up to the village''s adults and pointing to specific words in the book to help him read it.


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    It was getting dark by the time Old Mother Hecate returned, her steps slow and shaky as always. She sat down on her stool wearily and gratefully took the bowl of stew Refenial passed her with his working hand.


    "Did you find anything?" Refenial asked.


    "Yes, more bloody questions," Hecate said gruffly.


    Refenial gave her a pleading look, and she relented.


    "I''ve worked out a little about you, boy. Nothing that''ll do us a whit of good by sharing it, though."


    Refenial glared at her.


    "Oh, you mad, boy? Try traipsing here and there through miles of forest to find two small stones, based off vague directions at my age, only to get there and find nothing about that place made a lick of sense. Try that. Then you''ll know mad, boy." Hecate was glaring at him, but as he drew back, she visibly calmed herself.


    "Look, I''m not explaining it to you because I''ve worked out too little to be useful for solving anything. I don''t want you going off and getting into trouble with a head full of half-baked theories and then coming crying to me later when it all blows up in your face. Now I''m tired, the conversation is over, and I''m going to bed." Old Mother Hecate said, leaving her bowl of stew almost untouched as she got up to go to bed.


    As the days went on, a routine began to develop. Refenial would get up and spend the morning doing chores, though they were still a struggle with his hand. After that, several hours of practising sitting still followed by reading until it got dark, then it was supper, bed, and dreams of the ruins.


    Refenial would often see Obit walking around the village. The younger boy always had the book in his hands and was constantly pestering Refenial or the adults to read specific words or explain their meaning. On several occasions, Refenial caught Hecate staring at the boy, a complicated look on her face.


    On the rare moments Refenial had free; he would stand in the centre of the village, looking out of its gate at the murk of the forest outside. He hadn''t left since the fateful day, and Hecate never asked him to go out.


    Soon the greens of the forest started turning to rich oranges and browns, with the occasional black of a crow. A chill entered the air that seeped into his bones, leaving him always slightly too cold.


    As he sat during his magic lesson on the chilly grass, his eyes closed as he focused on nothing. Hecate spoke, "You''re getting there, Refenial. I think you''re ready for the next step. This is the difficult one."


    He''d slowly made progress, memories of the wolf''s attack often resurfaced when his mind was idle, but he''d gradually got to the point where most days he could bury those thoughts away when he practised being still.


    Refenial listened intently, his eyes still closed.


    "Lots of people who teach this include lots of mumbo-jumbo and fancy words to make it sound like they know what they''re talking about. Truth is, all you have to do now without moving any part of your body, your eyelids included, is open your eyes."


    Refenial''s face twitched involuntarily as he tried to follow the seemingly paradoxical explanation.


    Hecate continued, "A soul has eyes, not in a real, literal way but in a true way. You won''t be able to feel them til you use them, though."


    Refenial felt his concentration slip as he tried to understand Hecate''s explanation.


    "Let''s leave it here. Just remember this, once you open your soul''s eyes, you''ll see mana, and most folk who do, the first thing they do is try and reach out and touch it. Do that without knowing what you''re doing, and you''ll die, and most probably, so will everyone around you. Do you understand?"


    "Yes, Old Mother Hecate." He said dutifully, opening his eyes.


    Behind him, he heard a commotion and leaned around while still sitting.


    At the gate were several wooden wagons surrounded by weathered men and women. Since arriving, this was the first time he''d seen outsiders in the village. Villagers had already begun to flock to the caravans. Children laughed and ran, clearly excited by the visitor''s arrival.


    "What''s happening?" He asked, turning back to the Old Mother.


    She nodded sagely, "It''s a merchant caravan. They come a few times a year; this''ll be the last one before spring." Several small coins appeared in Hecate''s hand. "Take these, then take my stool back to the house. After that, go to the wagons and tell them you want as much scrap cloth as you can buy with that. Between your growth spurts and carelessness when fighting the wolf, I''m about out of cloth. Tell them it''s for me and that if they don''t give you a good deal, I''ll come have a word with them later. I''ve had words with them before, so they''ll remember."


    Refenial quickly obeyed and was soon in front of the wagons that were surrounded by a large crowd of villagers, some coming with sacks, baskets and barrels to sell, others with coin to buy. Most seemed to want to do both, as well as talk to the merchants about news from outside the village. It took Refenial several minutes of politely but firmly moving through the crowd before he got near the front.


    After selling a pan to a villager, a young man from the caravan with a lethargic disposition turned and looked down at Refenial. "What''d you want, pipsqueak? We ain''t giving out free sweets no matter how many times you ask. The weird kid with the book already tried."


    "No, I''m here to buy some scrap cloth." He said, holding out the money. "It''s for Old Mother Hecate. She said she''d come talk to you later if you didn''t give a good deal."


    The lad gave an unimpressed look. "She could be the King''s mother for all I care, were the last caravan here before spring, she''ll get what she gets for the price she paid, like it or lump it."


    Another older man from the caravan with a striking family resemblance to the young man grabbed him by the arm, dragging him a few steps away. The older man whispered something urgently to him. The pair both looked at Refenial before the man whispered again. The young man nodded, and the older one let go of his arm.


    The lethargic youth returned visibly sweating and looked a little pale. "Look, I''m sorry. Um, it''s my first trip on this route. I didn''t realize. Here I''ll get that cloth. It''ll be a good deal. I''ll even throw in some of those sweets the other boy wanted out of my own pocket. Please don''t tell Old Mother Hecate I was rude about her." The young man looked nervous as he finished speaking.


    "Don''t worry, I won''t," Refenial said, taking pity on the caravaneer.


    The lad flopped slightly in relief before fetching a sack full of scrap cloth and a handful of hardboiled sweets. As Refenial stepped away from the crowd, he noticed Obit watching him eagerly.


    "They gave you sweets!" the young boy exclaimed excitedly, rushing over, his leg long since fully healed.


    Refenial shared them out between them.


    "I knew if we kept asking, they''d give us some sweets eventually," Obit said as he sucked happily on his first sweet.


    "How are you getting on with the book?"


    "Oh, this thing, it''s going well. I can read lots and lots of words now, though I still don''t know what some of the words mean. I''ve memorized a little bit of it too. Old mother Hecate said I had to remember everything in this book. Do you think she''ll be impressed? Mommy and Daddy were super mad that I talked to her, but when I told them that she wanted me to read this book, they were super surprised. I told them that I thought she might get sad if I didn''t learn it all, so they''ve been helping me with a lot of the words and even said I could do less chores so I could spend more time studying it. Daddy even promised to buy extra candles so I can study in the evening when it''s dark. They''re expensive; Daddy must really want Old Mother Hecate to not feel sad."


    Refenial smiled at the Obit''s evident enthusiasm. He felt a little guilty since it seemed like Obit''s belief that Refenial was a noble was the boy''s motivation. He hoped Obit would never find out the truth.


    "Anyway, these are lots of sweets, and Mommy says it''s nice to share, so I''m going to give the rest to the other kids. I''ll be like a real hero making people happy." With that, Obit ran off to distribute sweets.


    Refenial returned to his home, and Old Mother Hecate nodded in satisfaction at the sack of cloth.

 Chapter 7 -The hero versus the witch-

    The next few weeks passed uneventfully, Refenial still making no headway with his progress in opening his soul''s eyes.


    "What''s systemic magic like, Old Mother Hecate?" he asked one day as he sat on the grass at the end of another fruitless attempt.


    "Hmph, why don''t you ask something easy," Hecate said sarcastically.


    "Short answer is it''s a bit different for everyone. Long answer is systemic magic is a thing; some people think it''s some older-than-time enchantment made from true magic, plenty of fools, like the Systemic Order, worship it as a god. Understand so far?"


    "Uhhh," Refenial said uncertainly.


    Old Mother Hecate''s expression soured at his uncertain response, but she carried on. "Let''s put it this way. Systemic magic comes from something called the system, and the system is a thing that exists, just like our souls exist. If someone uses true magic to connect a person to it, it gives them systemic magic. Once someone gets connected, they get a title from it, and the more they act like their title, the more powerful it makes them. I''ve seen masters of systemic magic destroy whole armies with ease. The problem is it only grants you the powers it sees fit to grant you and only when you act like it wants you to. For example, if you got the title ''lazy chef'', it''ll increase the level of power it gives you the more time you spend in the kitchen slacking off, and the abilities it gives you will all be about cooking better food with less effort."


    Hecate glanced behind Refenial, then closed her eyes with a tired expression. "That idiot child is walking over here."


    Refenial looked round and saw Obit confidently striding towards them.


    He stopped a couple of feet away and gave a smooth bow before holding the book out triumphantly before him with both hands. "I have done it!" He proclaimed in a tone of melodramatic decree.


    "You''ve learned everything in the book?" Hecate asked sceptically.


    "Yes, and memorised every word, just like you''ve said." Obit beamed with pride.


    "Ok, what''s the first sentence on page 76?" She snapped back.


    "To swear an oath on a sword is widely considered the most extreme oath a noble can give."


    Hecate gave the boy an incredulous look, "Give me the book, boy."


    Obit eagerly handed her the book, and she opened it, turning to the right page as fast as her shaky hands would allow. Her finger traced along the page as she read.


    She looked up at Obit and down at the book again before opening it at a random page. "According to tradition, what is the most suitable flower to give a widow to signal you wish to court her?"


    "A yellow rose, an Icuna is usually the best, but an Isle rose or Milin rose are also ok."


    Hecate fumbled with the pages slightly in her rush to turn them. "What is the 3rd sentence on page 18?"


    Obit counted with his fingers as he mouthed words under his breath before looking up. "That is why a position of privyman is highly contested even among the subjects of lesser lords."


    She turned the page again. "What is the 14th sentence on page 94?"


    Obit counted and whispered under his breath again before beaming with confidence, "There are only 13 sentences on page 94, on account of the pictures of proper ways to curtsey taking up most of the page."


    "Gah!" Old mother Hecate spluttered at the beaming boy.


    Refenial tried to suppress a laugh at seeing the old woman flummoxed but failed, earning a sharp look from her.


    "I need to talk to Refenial about this. Stand out of earshot. We''ll wave you over when we''re finished." Hecate said, at last closing the book.


    Obit gleefully ran well away from the pair and gave them an energetic wave to signal that he was far enough away to not overhear them.


    Once he had, She leaned forwards, speaking in a low tone to be sure not to be heard. "that idiot child, I swear he''ll be the death of me. You''ve spent more time with him, and I''ve clearly misjudged him. What do you make of him?"


    Refenial considered the question carefully before answering, "He''s smart a-"


    "I can see that. He memorised a 200-page book," Hecate snapped before taking a deep breath and calming herself. "Sorry, there''s something about that boy that really grates on me."


    Refenial continued, "And he''s really kind. When the trade caravan came, he shared out his sweets when he didn''t have to. He sees the world differently, though, like it''s all one big story, and he''s going to be a hero."


    "As much as it pains me to say it, he seems like a friend you should hang onto, Refenial. We need allies, and people like that, if properly handled, can be useful, at least until they get themselves killed by being stupid. Just remember not to indulge his delusions if they might get you killed." Hecate said thoughtfully. "Call him back over."


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    Refenial waved at the other boy, who sprinted to them. "So, can I be your squire? Can I? Can I?" He asked Refenial as he stopped by them.


    Old Mother Hecate smiled at the younger boy, although Refenial could tell it was forced. "We''ve spoken, and I think we should work together. Refenial still has his magic lessons, but after those, we learn about other things, such as history and the world. I''d like you to join us for that. Refenial is going to get systemic magic soon. If you study really hard, then maybe we can get you that too, and you can both become titled."


    Refenial thought Obit might burst from excitement, but his conversation with Old Mother Hecate left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he struggled to feel the enthusiasm Obit felt.


    "I could have systemic magic and be titled!" Obit squealed, "But no one in the whole village has a title!"


    "Well, maybe you do, Old Mother Hecate." He added thoughtfully. "I''m going to get a title. I''m going to get a title!" The boy chanted as he began to dance around the pair.


    "Only if you study hard enough", Hecate snapped, already back to looking annoyed by the boy.


    Obit quickly settled down, and Hecate left them with a stack of books.


    Obit read diligently, asking questions every few minutes. By the time it had gotten too dark to read, Refenial was surprised by how much Obit seemed to have covered. He couldn''t help but feel a little jealous of how fast Obit seemed to learn.


    Only a few days later, the weather turned as winter began to make its mark. The whole village slowed in its pace as people spent as much time as possible indoors, huddled around their fires. Refenial began taking his lessons indoors. As it got dark, Hecate would produce candles from whatever magical space she kept her possessions in; these allowed Refenial and Obit to study until well after dark.


    Both boys were diligent with their studies and learned quickly, but Obit was quickly catching up, and Refenial had to accept that the younger boy would soon surpass him.


    One afternoon as Refenial sat around the crackling fire wrapped in a blanket, a gentle howling of the wind audible outside the hovel, focusing deeply on opening his soul''s eye under the guidance of Old Mother Hecate. For the first time, he felt a flicker of something, like the tremble of a butterfly''s wings deep in his psyche, far beneath anything he could recognise as his mind.


    He sat there, the sounds of the world drifting away from him as well as the cold of the air and the heat of the fire. Deeper and deeper, he sunk into himself until, in any meaningful sense, the world ceased to be for him, even the sound of his heart gently beating, lost to the surface.


    Flicker.


    Refenial looked around at where he was within himself and saw a brilliant crude orb made of colours no human eye could ever determine. he reached out with his conciousness to the globe before realising he was the orb and need not reach out, this was his soul, this was him. The orb''s surface gently rippled and swirled, and Refenial felt its eyes open.


    He could see the small room of old Mother Hecate''s house again, even though his physical eyes remained closed. His sight wasn''t limited to just ahead of him, but in all directions sight flowed to him. This vision was not like that of a mundane eye; the colours were myriad, each a different hue from those he could normally see.


    He inwardly gasped in wonder. Around him and through the air, he could see floating particles, tiny motes of glowing, flickering light. He knew on some instinctual level that those motes were mana.


    The motes careened through the air energetically, occasionally colliding or looping back on themselves as if caught in eddies of intangible air. He tracked the paths of a dozen disparate particles of mana at once, every one rushing towards the same destination, Old Mother Hecate.


    He looked at the old woman, really looked at her and saw something deeper, something more inside her. He sensed another soul. Her soul was unlike his, though. Where his was an orb, hers felt like a lump of unmolded clay smashed in a fit of rage. Burns, scars and pockmarks littered its mauled surface. However, a mark viciously carved deep into its surface stood out. It looked similar to the black flowing script of his nightmares but as if someone had cut a hundred such characters one on top of the other. The jagged grooves glowed an angry colour.


    He realised as he continued to watch that the mana wasn''t flowing into Old Mother Hecate or even her soul. The mana poured directly into this runic open wound.


    "So you can finally see." Old mother Hecate''s voice came softly to him despite all other sounds being blocked out.


    "I should have died long, long ago. I wanted to live forever, I still do. So as I aged, I crafted my greatest spell, something greater than any mortal I know of has achieved. This spell, this enchantment, is a masterpiece. It holds back age like a dam." She laughed darkly. "But with every year, it slowly slips away. This didn''t give me immortality. It gave me a long death."


    Refenial didn''t think he could speak without losing focus, so he sat silently as he listened to her talk.


    "There was a time when even immortals feared me. Now my hand shakes when I lift a cup to drink. I managed to avoid death long beyond its calling, but as a price, I''ve now grown weak and feeble."


    As Refenial considered her words, he felt strange and alien lurching deep beneath the surface of his soul. Something that was not him gently pushed upon his soul from within. A Primal fear chased his focus as he quickly looked at his own soul. He felt a force apply pressure within, deforming the sphere into an egg shape.


    "What''s wrong?" he heard Old Mother Hecate''s voice faintly ask.


    He couldn''t look away from himself as he felt his soul buckle and bend.


    As he looked on, a feeling slowly crept upon him, and he realised through some ineffable sense that he wasn''t the only one watching through his soul''s eyes. Something else, the thing inside, sat in infinite silence behind his sight, watching him as he watched himself.


    He felt a sudden and sharp pain as something hard collided with his face, and he closed his soul''s eye and opened his normal eyes.


    Old Mother Hecate stood over him rubbing her beringed hand. He could taste blood in his mouth; his lip split from her slap.


    Hecate slowly lowered herself back to her stool.


    "What-what happened?"


    "Why didn''t you fight, you fool boy? You watched and did nothing to fight back."


    "What was that? Is there something inside me?" He asked in horror.


    "Yes, probably something to do with those ruins and your dreams, but I''m sure you''ve already figured that much out."


    "It was trying to get out, watching from my eyes," he said distantly as the event replayed over and over in his mind, his skin crawling at the memory.


    "It was struggling but failing. Do you know what it was?"


    Refenial shook his head.


    "Whatever it is, people don''t go to the trouble of locking souls away inside souls and hiding them in the ruins of strange temples because they''re afraid it might give out free sweets and hugs."


    For a brief moment, her expression softened into something sympathetic. "A soul is not so easily broken, especially when it fights back. I can teach you a trick or two, but next time some unknown horror tries to destroy your soul, don''t just sit there, staring at it like a half-wit. Fight back. Fight back with every ounce of your being. Fight like your soul depends on it."


    Refenial stared deeply into the fire, knowing the thing that watched him from within still lurked inside.

 Chapter 8 -Of systems and promises-

    The days that followed seemed to pass slowly, as if even time itself was frozen by the oppressive winter air.


    As the first snow fell outside, Refenial sat once more inside, looking at the orb that was his soul.


    He felt a gentle swish and scratching within, but with ruthless determination, he focused on his soul, as shown by Old Mother Hecate, hardening against the thing within.


    He moved his head, and half opened his corporeal eyes as he looked up at the old crone perched over him on her stool. Her constant drills had got him to the point where he could move slowly and take in the world with his ordinary senses while keeping his soul eyes open.


    The old woman gave a nearly imperceptible nod of approval. "Whatever that thing is might be playing feeble now you''ve shown you can fight back but don''t trust it for a second. Mark my words, boy. It''ll wait for the moment when you are weakest, least able to defend yourself, and at that moment, it will strike."


    Refenial slowly nodded.


    "Now we''ve got that nasty business dealt with for the moment. Let''s get onto the meat of scriptic magic."


    She half closed her eyes as she focused. Next to them, the motes of mana that forever streamed into the old woman parted, leaving an empty space in the air.


    A tiny whispy tendril of Hecate''s soul reached out to the mana-free void and started forming a complex 3d weave of symbols in the same script he had seen upon the temple in his dreams, as well as carved into her soul.


    "This is a spell form. If I take mana and pass it through the spell form, it will create the effect." She said as she worked.


    Refenial looked at it with awe marvelling at its complexity. It was like writing, but unlike regular writing that only goes on a flat page, this had depths and layers as the symbols were subtly connected to the marks surrounding them in all directions.


    "The thing that kills most who try to study true magic is that if you start grabbing mana, you can''t stop until you connect the mana to a spell form. If you keep sucking up mana, then before you know it, boom. People are cleaning your blood off of the walls for weeks. That''s not the only risk, though. If you bugger up the spell form, you can get all sorts of nasty things happening. If you''re lucky, it''ll just fizzle out. I once knew a hotheaded wizard who tried creating a more powerful fireball spell, cept when making the spell form; he messed up the positioning of where the ball was supposed to appear. The fireball appeared right inside his own skull. He didn''t even have time to realize his mistake."


    "I can learn to do this?" Refenial asked sceptically, making sure to speak slowly enough to not disturb his sight.


    "Sure, if you study hard, in a couple decades, you''ll be able to make some simple spell forms."


    "If it takes that long, then what''s the point? I thought this was going to help me now."


    "It will, but first try grabbing the mana around us and moving it towards the spell form. Just remember, once you grab it, you can''t let go until it connects to a spell form, and if you hold onto it for too long, you''ll explode from the mana."


    Refenial reached out with his mind towards the mana around. It felt as easy as breathing to begin bringing some motes towards him. He could understand why people died doing this. He might have tried to reach out when his soul''s eyes first opened had it not been for Old Mother Hecate''s warnings. More and more motes drifted towards him, although their number paled compared to the number being sucked in by Hecate''s soul.


    He then gently guided the mana towards the spell form, and with a gentle feeling of connection, Mana motes began to be sucked into the spell form, guided there by Refenial''s will.


    Refenial saw with his material eyes that a small orb of light manifested in the same place as the spell form, although its light was still much dimmer than the fires.


    "That''s the light spell. Most apprentices in scriptic magic learn it as their first spell. it''s mostly harmless even if you mess it up." She pointed to two nearly identical symbols that sat next to each other. "Although if you muddle these the wrong way around, it also produces something called radiation. Seems fine at first, but that stuff has killed more than one apprentice that thought they''d mastered the spell."


    The old woman paused for emphasis before continuing.


    "Now, the reason I taught you true magic is because I can create the spell form to connect someone to systemic magic, but I can''t get the mana, not without letting the spell keeping me from dying getting even weaker. Now you get what to do, I''ll connect you. Let''s go outside. I''d rather have more space for this."


    Refenial closed his soul''s eyes and stood. The pair headed outside to the village green. The mud had long since frozen, and now snow crunched under their feet as they walked. By the time they reached their destination, both were covered in a sprinkling of white from the flecks of snow and sleet that lazily fell from the sky.


    Standing under the endless grey-white sky, they faced each other several feet apart. The air of the village was quiet as its residents huddled together in their homes.


    Old Mother Hecate began to form her spell as Refenial quickly opened his soul''s eyes.


    The spell form she weaved was magnitudes of order more complicated than the one she had used for the light spell. A dense block of script over 25 feet across and just as deep hung above their heads.


    "You could count on one hand the mortals who''ve mastered this spell," Hecate said with satisfaction. "Bring the mana, boy."


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    Refenial began pulling the mana towards himself and connected to the spell form. More and more mana rushed towards it, and there was a gentle hum in the air, the snow above them that passed through the spell turning to rain by the time it reached them.


    The mana continued to build more and more. The pair stood there for twenty minutes as the hum slowly got louder. Several villagers opened their doors or windows, curious, but quickly shut them again upon seeing the source and the unnatural rain that fell upon them despite the snow elsewhere.


    Refenial began to feel warm from the heat of the spell.


    "It''s done," Hecate said


    Suddenly there was a pulse of light in both the material and spiritual sights, and the spell form disappeared.


    [Connecting, please stand by]


    refenial saw the words appear before his mundane eyes floating in the same place in his vision as he looked around like the words were tattoed to his iris.


    After a few moments, the message faded away.


    [connection successful]


    [weighing soul]


    [error, multiple souls detected]


    [attempting to determine primary soul]


    [scanning souls]


    [1/3]


    [2/3]


    [3/3]


    [primary soul determined]


    [weighing soul]


    [standby]


    [soul successfully weighed]


    [generating title]


    [generating status]


    [Welcome to the system, remember if you have any queries, ask a certified system advisor, have a nice day]


    As the last message faded from his sight, Refenial looked over to see Old Mother Hecate grinning.


    "So, boy, have you checked your status yet?"


    "How do I do that?"


    "I forget I have to teach you every little thing, no initiative." She sighed. "Focus on the word Status, and it will appear."


    Refenial did as she instructed, and a longer message appeared that he could scroll through with a thought, and he began to read.


    [


    Name: Refenial Crowchild


    Age: 10/??/#non-interger error#


    Title: Pied Piper


    Rank: 1


    Stats


    Fate: 0


    Charm: 0


    Mana: 0


    Reason: 0


    Cunning: 0


    Resilience: 0


    Agility: 0


    Power: 0


    Free points: 1


    Skills:


    N/A


    Powers:


    Entrancing sound (0)


    ]


    Refenial had so many questions, "Why is it saying my surname is Crowchild?"


    "Oh," Old Mother Hecate said, looking slightly embarrassed.


    "Well, That''s my surname. Traditionally if an apprentice is an orphan, they are adopted by their master." The Old Mother said, looking a little uncomfortable.


    "That''s neither here nor there, boy. Focus and tell me your title." She said quickly, changing the subject.


    "It says ''pied piper''."


    "Not heard that one before. It doesn''t sound brilliant, but it could be much worse. I knew a noble once who got the title ''dirty thief''. He could only rank it up after he gave up on washing and started knicking things."


    "The system says I''ve got 3 different ages, and it also said I had 3 souls."


    Hecate half closed her eyes as she slowly spoke. "That''s odd. Give me a moment. It''s been a while since I''ve tried this trick... there we go. I can see your status." The old woman paused as she read it over.


    "Refenial, I think it''s time we talked about this," Hecate said, her mouth downturned. "I''ve seen more souls than you''ve seen sunrises. Your soul, the person you are. That isn''t the soul of a ten-year-old child."


    "Then, what?" Refeenial asked, his brow wrinkled.


    "Your soul, if I was to guess, was that of an adult human, probably male. That other thing that is inside your soul, I''ve never seen anything quite like it but some immortal souls are similar, though usually less creepy. The boy''s soul, the soul of the body you inhabit, it''s probably locked deep down in there under the surface with the other soul."


    "Why don''t I remember any of this? Who am I? That child''s soul, whose body I''ve stolen..." Refenial''s mind began to spin as he considered all the implications.


    "I can''t imagine it''s having a fun time being locked in a cage with whatever that thing is inside you," Hecate said in a cool tone.


    "Can''t we do anything to help it? I''ve been here living my life, and he''s in there being tortured by that thing for all we know!"


    "I only know one sure way, and that is for you to die, but that''d release both the boy and the horror. I don''t know what that thing''ll do if it gets free, but most probably, a lot more people will die.


    There might be other ways, but it isn''t worth the risk of that thing getting free. It''s like I told you before Don''t be a hero, be smart. A hero would probably risk everything to free that boy''s soul, fail and let that thing out of its cage, damning hundred, thousands, maybe more people to their deaths. A smart person knows the price of a child''s soul is a pittance to pay to keep that thing locked away."


    "Is that thing in my soul really that dangerous?"


    "I''d kill you without a second thought if I knew that would stop the thing I saw from ever getting free." She said without a hint of compassion in her voice.


    "What happens when I die, though? I won''t live forever. No one does."


    "Don''t die. Maybe one day you''ll learn the spell I have. Maybe you''ll make it better, become a true immortal. Maybe you''ll die in some stupid moment of heroic self-sacrifice; unleash that thing, and it''ll kill everyone you were trying to save." Hecate closed her eyes, looking tired. "I''m an old woman, not a bloody Prophet."


    The snow fell softly onto their damp shoulders as they both considered the conversation.


    "Go get Obit, we need to connect him to the system too, and I''m not explaining how it works to you pair of idiots twice."


    Refenial went to Obit''s door and knocked, "Come in!" a man''s voice called out. Refenial opened the door with a jolt as it stuck on the hard ground outside and slipped into the simple house.


    The inside of the house was only marginally larger than Hecate''s despite the number of people huddled there. Obit and his three brothers, sister and parents sat hugged up to one another next to the fire. Nearest to him was Alton, Obit''s father, who had been willing to take Refenial in when he''d first arrived in the village.


    "Refenial, have you come to see Obit again?" Alton asked warmly.


    Obit looked up from the huddle with an excited expression.


    "Sort of; Old Mother Hecate wants to see him."


    Alton nodded, his face growing sombre. "Come outside with me for a moment. I want to talk with you."


    Alton and Refenial stepped out into the snow leaving behind the warmth of the family abode.


    Alton opened and closed his mouth several times before finally speaking, "The Old Mother came to the village when my Pa was a lad, about your age." His face shifted uncertainly. "We all knew she was something powerful, something dangerous, but she left us, folks of the village, well enough alone other than to trade, so we did the same in kind. You''ve probably spent more time with her than everyone in the village combined."


    The man shifted on his feet restlessly. "I want what''s best for my son, Obit. I know he''s not cut out to be a farmer; head''s too in the clouds. When he came back with that book, me and the wife, we were scared, scared of what''d happen to him if he disappointed the old mother, so we did what we could to help him. Then he starts getting lessons from her, and now he keeps talking about getting a titled by her. Like that''s a normal thing to offer a farmer''s son when there''s nobles out there killin each other just for the chance. I''ve thought about taking my family and leaving more than once, but I see Obit so happy. I can''t crush the boy''s spirit. You''re his friend and know the Old Mother better than anyone. Can you make me a promise that you''ll do what you can to keep him safe?"


    "I promise." Refenial said soberly, hoping he wouldn''t later regret his words.


    "You''re a good lad. If things ever don''t work out living with the Old Mother, remember you''re always welcome at my door. Farmings hard work, but it''s honest." Alton said as he gave Refenial a fatherly pat on the back. "Now, let''s get that son of mine. I don''t want to keep the Old Mother waiting."

 Chapter 9 -The Un chosen one-

    It was done with a pulse of light that swept over the village. Obit had received systemic magic.


    Refenial and old mother Hecate watched the excitable boy as his eyes moved back and forth, reading his status as snow resumed falling on them.


    "So what does it say?" The Old Mother said irritably after a long moment of impatient silence.


    "Um, apparently, I''m not a squire. I really thought I would get squire or maybe even become a knight. I remember in one of the stories Daddy told, there was this boy who-"


    "Focus!" Hecate snapped.


    "Sorry, um, I don''t understand this title."


    "Well, just hurry up and tell us. I''m too old to be standing out in the snow all day."


    "It says my title is ''Un chosen''."


    "What, as in no one chose you?" Refenial asked.


    Obit shook his head "No, as in U-N, then a space, then the word ''chosen''."


    "That''s strange. Is Un a god or an immortal or something?" Refenial asked.


    Obit shrugged. "I''ve never heard of them. What about you, Old Mother Hecate?"


    When only silence came from the old witch, both boys looked curiously at her. She was frozen so still that for a moment, Refenial thought she might have somehow died still standing up.


    "A-are you alright, Old Mother Hecate?" Refenial asked nervously.


    "I''m cold, tired and going to bed." The old woman said, storming off as fast and dramatically as her aged frame would allow.


    Refenial and Obit exchanged confused glances as she walked away.


    "Was it something I said? Maybe I should apologise to her." Obit said.


    "I dunno. Perhaps she knows what ''Un'' is."


    The pair talked for a while before parting ways, both shivering as they returned to their respective abodes.


    As he walked back, Refenial scratched absent-mindedly at an itch on his ruined hand.


    As Refenial slipped into the hovel, he found it dark. The widow shuttered against the cold and the fire down to barely more than embers.


    Hecate sat on her stool, staring into the fire, a furious look on her face.


    Refenial sat quietly on the dirt floor next to the fire, gently coaxing it to life with more wood.


    A long time passed before the Old Mother spoke in a venenous whisper. "That idiot boy, why him."


    "What''s ''Un''?" Refenial asked.


    Hecate looked up as if noticing for the first time he was in the room. "It''s not important. Be careful, though. That boy might just be dangerous one day."


    "Didn''t you say we need allies?" Refenial asked.


    "Yes, we do, but with a title like that, he''ll either be useless or something no one can control. Perhaps the risk will be worth it, though." She said with a wry smile.


    "Keep him close, Refenial. Keep him from getting you or himself killed. Earn his trust and his friendship and temper his chronic stupidity."


    "You always talk about him like he''s a tool to be used. Is that how you see him. Is that how you see everyone!" Refenial said, finding his temper flare.


    Old Mother Hecate regarded him cooly. "The reality of the world is use and be used. Look at that wolf in the forest. If I''d not been there to kill him, you and Obit would have died. Look at all you''ve gained from me. You use me every day to gain knowledge, to gain magic, to gain power. We are all tools in other people''s schemes. So yes, I see him as a tool because to see him as anything else would be a lie to sleep better at night."


    "You''re a heartless monster," Refenial said hotly.


    Hecate laughed bitterly. "I wish. It''d be so much simpler then. I am many horrible things, and I''ve done things that would haunt your nightmares, but despite that, I care. Evil isn''t defeated by poncy heroes riding in making grand sacrifices like Obit sees the world. Evil, real evil, is beaten by those that wear shadows. Those who know how to gather power. Those who know when and where to make sacrifices in the dark so that others can prance around in the light, telling themselves they''re all so good and proper. It''s easy to call yourself a saint when you''re too blinded by the light to see the dark."


    "And who will be your next sacrifice? Will it be Obit? Will it be me? You keep saying how old you are, yet you''ve never been the one you''ve sacrificed." Refenial yelled at her.


    Hecate looked to the ground in silence.


    Refenial realised he had been shouting, so he lowered his voice as he continued speaking, "You said heroes get the people they care about killed; how many of the people you''ve cared about have you got killed?"


    Hecate looked him directly in the eyes, a tear rolling down her wrinkled cheek. "More than I can count." She whispered. "But for the price I''ve paid, I saved more. I never sacrificed myself, and I never will, but I''ve saved more people by looking after myself than any self-declared hero has while looking after what''s right. You are young and impatient. You think the evils of today are everything. There is always more evil in the world, more pain, more tragedy."


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    Refenial opened his mouth to respond, but as he did so, deep within his soul, he felt the thing that lurked beneath begin to viciously twist and turn, fighting to escape its prison.


    His eyes widened in horror as he struggled to still himself and open his soul''s eyes to look within.


    Hecate instantly sensed the problem. "Fight it, boy, fight it with every ounce of strength you have."


    Refenial slowly managed to sink his mind deeper towards his soul. As his soul''s eyes twitched, he felt another mind moving in concert with his own behind them.


    The orb of his soul writhed, twisted and turned. The thing beneath fought for freedom, its blows stronger than ever before.


    With a grinding cracking sensation, the thing beneath damaged his soul, tiny spidery cracks forming along one side. From deep within, little tendrils of the abyssal soul drifted out.


    Refenial''s body began to violently convulse as it tried to obey two masters.


    Old Mother Hecate rose, floating up from her stool, her simple copper sword in hand, as the years piled on.


    Refenial felt her spell lock onto him, freezing every muscle in his body in place and stopping any harm coming to him from the convulsions.


    The thing began twisting its dark tendrils and weaving a spell form. As it worked, the air became thick with symbols that whirled around each other in a complexity and scale that made the connection spell look like the idle scribblings of a small child.


    "Fight back, take control!" Hecate yelled at the boy.


    Refenial felt his soul dragged along as the thing began reaching for the mana in the air.


    Closer and closer the thing and he came to reaching the mana.


    As his mind''s touch almost brushed against the mana, he managed to heal the cracks in his soul, sending the horror''s tentacles slamming back inside.


    He could feel it inside, still but gloating, gloating and confident next time, next time it would win.


    "Well done, boy, now sleep," Hecate said, and he found the world falling away. For once, his sleep was dreamless.


    Refenial woke as if slowly rising from the depths of a great ocean. Groggily, he reached for his face with his damaged hand. His hand felt different from how he remembered it. He opened his eyes, staring at it hazily for several seconds before noticing the change. The palm had almost entirely regrown, and a nub of a ring finger was now visible. The skin though where the hand had regrown, was pale, nearly as pale as that of the Old Mother.


    "Your hand is healing nicely," Hecate said, her voice shaking with age.


    Refenial looked over and saw the old woman on her stool, now even more decrepit. Two walking sticks sat on her lap.


    She followed his gaze down to the sticks. "I struggle to summon them now, so I''m keeping them out."


    "How long was I asleep?"


    "A-about a week."


    Refenial winced at the stutter in her voice caused by her shaky voice.


    "Well, don''t just lay there all day, boy. Get up and d-dressed. I still need to tell you and the idiot child about the system."


    Refenial obeyed, but as he did, his mind kept going back to the shaky old woman and how much his letting the thing slip out had cost her.


    Soon Refenial and Obit sat on the dirt floor by the fire, ready to listen to the geriatric woman.


    "So, I''ll keep it simple enough e-ev-even an idiot could understand. Firstly you have titles and ranks. Titles are how the system sees you. The more you do while acting like your title, the more the s-system will give you. If y-you do enough, the system will increase your rank. Refenial, your title, pied piper. Pied means many coloured, so if you keep wearing the p-patched clothes I gave you and learn a musical instrument, you can gain ranks."


    "What about me? What''s ''Un''?" Obit asked excitedly.


    "Un, the ur sword so old, Forged before time, its power untold.


    A blade untarnished by any blight, Its bite too sharp, it strikes with fright.


    In darkness, call upon its name, And Un will come, with dread to tame.


    But be warned, for with its might, It may bring forth the darkest night." Hecate half-sung, half-spoke as she recited the words.


    "I-it was a nursery rhyme, my M-Mother would sing to me. Soon you will have Un."


    "A magic sword!" Obit exclaimed, looking close to hyperventilating from excitement.


    "Use the sword, and you will rank up."


    "Uhuh, I will, Old Mother Hecate." Obit nodded vigorously.


    "Every time you rank up, you will gain a stat point. You can spend stat points to permanently make yourself more powerful in that stat." She looked down at her aged body, "W-well, even the system has limits."


    She looked across the fire at the pair, "Stats are how much the system has increased something. The more you have, the more it will add. A fit man wi-with a power of two would be stronger than a lazy ch-child with a power of four. Do you understand, boys?"


    Refenial nodded. "I think so. I guess we can''t just look at stats to know whose stronger, though."


    "Rank is often the best thing to c-c-compare, but nothing is certain. A rank 50 ''humble farmer'' is very different from a rank 50 '' marauding murderer''."


    "What about skills? I got a skill. it says I have swordsmanship of zero." Obit chimed in.


    Hecate sighed. "Sometimes, wh-when you rank up, you will get a skill or ability. Skills are like stats. They are the system making what you know work better. If you do something with that skill the system thinks is noteworthy, it will level that skill up. Until you get your skill or ability to level one, having it doesn''t make a difference."


    "But if I practice with a sword every day, it''ll make me even better?"


    "You don''t have a sword." Refenial pointed out.


    "Not yet, but I''m sure I''ll have Un soon, like Old Mother Hecate said. Until then, I can practice with a stick."


    Old Mother Hecate half closed her eyes for a long moment, and a book appeared in her hand. She let out a ragged exhausted breath as she did, Slumping slightly. "Take this, O-Obit. It''s a book about swordsmanship. It''s not as good as a teacher, but with the system helping, it''ll get you started."


    Obit quickly stood, gently took the book with both hands and bowed deeply to Hecate. "Thank you for everything. I am forever in your debt." He said a little stiffly as if remembering a line from his etiquette book.


    Obit returned to sit next to Refenial. Once he''d sat down, Refenial spoke, "I got a power called ''entrancing sound''? It''s also got a zero next to it."


    Hecate nodded her head slowly. "Like with the skill, it won''t work until it levels up. The system rarely gives more than a name of a power, but with your title, it''s a good guess that if you practice with a whistle or pipe and play to someone listening, you''ll level it up. I don''t have an instrument, but I think a couple of the villagers can make a simple whistle and show you a little of how to play."


    Refenial nodded thoughtfully.


    "Now I''m t-t-tired. Go study. I want to sleep. We will talk about which stats to put your point into tomorrow."


    Obit stood. But Refenial hesitated. "I''ll go out in a minute. I want to talk to Old Mother Hecate first."


    The younger boy nodded as he rushed towards the old woman giving her a gentle hug. She squirmed uncomfortably under the unexpected gesture. "Thanks, Old Mother Hecate, you''re the best!" Obit said as he hugged her before running out of the room.


    "It''s my fault, isn''t it? It''s my fault your so weak now." Refenial said, his bottom lip quivering slightly as he fought back the tears.


    "Yes. Yes, it is, boy. Remember this next time that thing tries to get loose. Whatever the cost is, no matter what, stop it."


    Refenial hung his head in shame.


    "I was dying long before we met, Reenial. Your f-failure only m-makes things faster."


    "I''m sorry. Can''t we do anything?"


    "No, the only thing that could help now is mana and more of it than I could have channelled even o-on the best day of my l-l-life. Unless you''ve got a friendly i-immortal or about a hundred m-mortal true magic users hidden away. T-There''s nothing left to do."


    "Isn''t there anyone that can help?"


    Hecate gave an amused laugh. "There''s plenty. B-but most want to p-put strings on that d-deal, and when you get a reputation l-like mine, the risk isn''t worth the cost for them. There''s a few who owe m-me, but it''s cheaper not to p-pay, and I''m too weak to make them."


    "Oh."


    "Y-yes ''oh'', now go away. I''m tired."


    Refenial left the hovel and the old woman inside to rest and met up with Obit. The pair went to the younger boy''s house. Only Alton was home, and when he heard the boys talking quickly offered to make a whistle for Refenial.


    "I can make it, even give you a few lessons, but I''m not sure if it''ll do you any good," Alton said, nodding down to Refenial''s hand.


    "Old Mother Hecate said it will regrow now I''m titled," Refenial explained.


    The man nodded. "I''ll make it tonight. I''m not a master whittler; it won''t be perfect, but it''ll hold a tune."

 Chapter 10 -The hero of the village-

    Obit was excited. He couldn''t sleep. He had spent hours looking at the book about sword fighting. Just as he''d been ready to try some of it out with the stick he''d found, Mommy had sent him to bed. He lay in their crowded house, the sounds of his family softly sleeping around him.


    He couldn''t resist it anymore.


    He quietly got up, wrapping himself in his warmest clothes as he snuck out of the house, stick in hand.


    It was late enough that the village was silent, but he could see by the light of the moon in the clear night sky as he made his way to a fallow section of field near the imposing wooden wall. His feet quickly moved as he easily stepped over the ground of the village that had been all he''d known since his birth.


    He took the hefty stick in hand, striking the pose he''d seen in the book, at least as close as he remembered. Slightly adjusting his posture until satisfied. He then began working through the movements the book had listed again and again.


    He had learned much from the challenge the Old Mother had set him. Tasks like memorization or this required dedication and repetition. They would seem impossible at first, but he was confident that if he repeated each movement enough times, seeking out every flaw until every move was perfectly memorized, he would eventually master the sword as impossible as that currently felt.


    Time passed, and he slowly became more confident in his movements. Sweat formed on his brow despite the cold night''s air. Eventually, he stopped to recover and consider what he needed to look at in the book tomorrow. He heard the forest creaking despite the still night air as he stood there thinking. Confused, he went to the wall and looked through a small crack between two of the wall''s great treetrunks.


    Outside the wall, past the open ground kept clear by the villagers, he looked at the forest, and the forest looked back.


    He stepped back from the wall in horror as he processed what he had seen. Moonlight had glinted off of numberless eyes as they looked out of the forest towards the village. It sent waves of instinctual primitive unease across his body as he thought about what he had seen. He was scared, wondering what he should do. He thought, what would the heroes of his stories do, what would Refenial do, what would The Old Mother do?


    This was one more challenge to overcome with perseverance and stubborn dedication. He swallowed slightly as he leaned forward to look through the crack again.


    His field of view was narrowed by the chunky walls, but he could see enough. From out of the forest, monsters were slowly walking. He could see hundreds through this tiny crack alone. Most were small, simple things, barely more than normal creatures. The sort the children sometimes saw when collecting kindling. A rabbit with serrated teeth, a rat with impossibly long, misshapen legs. Obit felt confident in facing any of them by itself, even with just his stick. This many would be deadly though. Worse still, dozens of more terrible monsters stood above these lesser monsters. They were huge with hints of human features. Many wore crude imitations of human clothes. Some even wore real clothes obviously stolen from their victims. These behemoths were the worst part. Each one walked with a grace and power that put them on par with the wolf that had slain Maxit.


    Obit knew he had to act fast, the village was in danger, and no one else knew. It was all on him.


    He ran as fast as he could towards the centre of the village, banging his stick against any percussive surface, screaming at the top of his lungs, "Monster attack! Monster attack!" As he ran, there were cries of anger and fright from the houses, men and women tumbling out of their homes into the snowy night half dressed. They carried spears, axes and a variety of improvised weapons. They called to him as he ran, asking where the monster was, but he didn''t stop; he didn''t have time to. The army he saw. He knew only one person could help. Only one person could save the village.


    He barrelled through the front door of Old Mother Hecate''s house, not slowing to knock. The door slammed loudly into the wall with a force that shook the meagre house.


    He saw Refenial first sitting up, rubbing his eyes in confusion.


    He glanced to the other side of the room. Old Mother Hecate was still lying in bed, but she had turned her head to look at him. "T-this better be important, idiot child, or this will be the night I kill you." She said with such a dead tone that Obit thought she might follow through on the threat.


    "There are monsters outside the village. There''s hundreds of them, thousands. It''s an army of them!"


    Old Mother Hecate slowly began to sit up as a crowd of villagers began to form at the door to her house, shouting and talking loudly as they did. "Fetch my sticks, boy." She said to Refenial, who quickly passed the walking canes that were by her bed to the aged woman.


    "Come here." She commanded Obit, making him stand before her as she sat on her bed, looking him hard in the eyes. "Is what you said the absolute truth?" she asked, staring into his eyes with such cold intensity that a small part of his mind questioned if it might be safer outside the wall with the monsters than inside with this woman. He quashed the thought, knowing how silly it was.


    "Yes." He said with every ounce of gravitas he could convey.


    The Old mother aged still further as she rose gracefully off the bed, once more moving like a marionette. Furs and sheets fell to the side, her tired and patched black robes becoming visible.


    The villagers stepped back in fear at the sight of her magic that they rarely, if ever, had seen used.


    "There''s monsters at the gate!" a villager''s voice called, echoed a moment later by several more calls of distant voices who saw monsters approaching the walls.


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    "Move back." The Old Mother commanded, her voice magically enhanced and now carrying an inhuman timbre.


    The Villagers almost fell over each other in their haste to obey, combined with their confusion about where to head with monsters seemingly surrounding the village.


    She flew forwards and then up into the sky.


    Obit Rushed out of the house, looking up as he did, seeing the Powerful Old Mother above in the sky. Her robes fluttered as she hung there silhouetted by the moon.


    There was a crash as the village gates exploded inwards. A thick pall of debris and dirt obscured the cause for a moment. Within seconds Obit could see the beast that had so quickly obliterated the gate. A deer monster so tall its antlers brushed the frame that had once held the gates stood there, slowly panting, a look of glee on its face as an unending horde of monsters streamed around it.


    Above them, bright orbs of light shot out from the Old Mother. There were more than he could count. They flew in every direction, each one like a miniature sun in the sky. The stars faded away as the orbs locked into place across the village and forest, creating an unnatural day.


    There was another crashing sound, Obit looked round, and A wiry fox monster was picking up the logs that made the wall in the distance and heaving them to the side one by one, systematically dismantling it.


    There was shouting and alarm all around him as Obit watched the unfolding chaos. A moment later and the fastest of the monsters that had raced through the gate collided with the first of the villagers. Teeth and claws met desperate, cornered villagers who fought with as much savage ferocity as the monsters, knowing if they fell, it would be their children next.


    Obit saw a squirrel monster jump into the air, landing on a villager''s head before it jumped again, launching itself at Obit. Instinctually, Obit swung his pretend sword in a poor approximation of the directions in the swordsmanship guide. The stick connected with a crack of breaking bones, and the squirrel hurtled away, propelled by the blow.


    He saw in the distance his father, axe in one hand, ripping a rabbit monster off of his little brother as it tried rabidly to maul the bloodied toddler who had snuck out of the house drawn by the commotion. Obit could do nothing to help. The distance might as well have been infinite, as too many monsters stood between him and his family.


    The already daylight-bright sky lit to almost blinding brightness as dozens of streaking, screaming, brilliant white magical attacks rained down from Old Mother Hecate, obliterating many of the more powerful monsters who had made it into the village and anything near them. But even as they fell, more terrible beasts ran through the now dozens of holes in the walls.


    Obit felt lost to the chaos and destruction, scared as he saw friends and neighbours being mauled. The village, the only home he''d ever known, was being torn asunder by both monsters and as collateral in Old Mother Hecate''s attacks.


    "Obit!" Old Mother Hecate''s magically enhanced voice suddenly cut through the screams of those dying and roars of those killing. He turned and saw her hovering only feet above him. She had aged horribly, the last of her white hair gently drifting away from her scalp as she spoke, her eyes so sunken as impossible to make out, even in the strange day of her artificial suns.


    He noticed she was holding her plain copper single-bladed sword. He had seen her effortlessly wield it in the fight against the wolf monster. Her easy victory that day seemed so long ago to him.


    She let the blade slip from her hand, and it fell tip first, biting deep into the frozen earth.


    "Take the sword, find Refenial, tell him..." she paused, unleashing another blinding bright wave of destruction upon the monsters. "Tell him that you both need to go to the ruins now. He''ll understand what it means. I will watch from above and protect you as you go."


    Obit''s face scrunched up as he considered what she was saying. "No! I won''t leave my family behind."


    "There''s no time. I''ll protect them. I''ll protect everyone here, but you need to hurry."


    Obit nodded in determination as the old lady flew away. He reached forwards and grabbed the sword. Looking down at it, he was surprised to notice that it hadn''t just buried itself into the earth. It had cut a stone the size of his foot in half before even reaching the earth.


    He pulled the sword free.


    [Rank up!]


    [Rank up!]


    [Rank up!]


    [Rank up!]


    [Rank up!]


    [Rank up!]


    [Rank up!]


    The systemic messages flashed across his eyes, distracting him momentarily as he looked around the carnage for Refenial. His eyes lingered momentarily on the faces of the first few dead around him.


    He didn''t have time to work out what to do with the system. He needed to find Refenial.


    He noticed the older boy a moment later. Refenial had a cleaver he''d acquired from somewhere and was cutting wide arcs desperately through the air as a Badger monster that was slightly bigger than him advanced menacingly.


    Obit could see That refenial was struggling to keep the monster at bay, and, without a second thought, he charged forwards screaming at the badger. The badger noticed a moment too late and raised its arm to block.


    Obit expected to meet resistance as his sword met the arm, but instead, it cut through the arm as smoothly as if there was nothing there but empty air. The blade carried on downward, cutting through the monster, almost bifurcating the creature. Only the back of the beast being out of reach of the sword saved it from falling to the ground cut in half.


    Even still, the damage was more than enough to instantly kill it.


    Refenial stared wide-eyed at Obit with shock, and Obit stared wide-eyed at the sword with shock. "How, how?" Refenial asked him, too astonished to articulate his question further.


    Obit remembered what he''d promised the Old Mother and shook his head to clear the confusion. "Old Mother Hecate has a plan. She said we need to go to the ruins quickly."


    Refenial looked confused. "How will that help?"


    "I don''t know, but she said she can keep my family safe if we do!"


    Refenial nodded. "Let''s go."


    As the boys began to run towards one of the holes in the wall, magical attacks streaked down ahead and around them, obliterating monsters faster than they could appear. The screaming whistle as the spells flew through the air and the bright lights they gave off drowned out the world, leaving Obit unable to see how the villagers were doing in their desperate fight. A wave of destruction from above destroyed the last remaining monsters near the hole and several of the beasts that were pursuing them from behind.


    "Thank you, Old Mother Hecate!" Obit screamed as he ran, but the noise was lost in the chaos of battle.


    The pair ran and ran, Refenial leading the way through the forest. They ran til their lungs burned and their feet ached. At last, they made it to a spot with two strange red stones.


    "We''re... here..." Refenial said, panting. He grabbed Obit''s arm and pulled him between the stones.


    Obit looked around in amazement as he found himself no longer in the forest but a substantial round clearing, full of old stones and vines. The sky was still alight from the orbs created by the Old Mother but dimmer now they were away from the village and the directly lit forest. The spheres winked out of existence without warning, plunging them into sudden darkness.


    "Old Mother Hecate," Obit said, worried that something had happened to her.


    Then a light flared into the sky. It was lighter than even the sunniest day. Obit instinctively closed his eyes, covering them with his hands, but even then, the light was so bright it stung. After several moments the light faded back to a more manageable darkness.


    He opened his eyes, blinking at the fading strange blobby shapes the bright light had left behind.


    [Name updated: Obit Crowchild]


    Obit read the system message confused. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he had a chance to do so, the forest shuddered and shook under the assault of a wave of annihilating force. The trees were stripped of their leaves and branches before their whole trunks were launched skyward in a terrible second. Despite this, not even a single vine twitched within the clearing, and no sound from outside competed with the silence of the clearing and the soft sound of his breathing.


    In a moment, the wave of destruction passed, leaving a ruined forest in its wake.


    The sky burned a fiery red as an ominous cloud floated in the distance above where he knew the village was. It reached high into the sky and then expanded outward suddenly into a bulbous top, reminding him of a mushroom.

 Chapter 11 -The last stand of Old Mother Hecate-

    Hecate awoke with a start as someone crashed through her front door. She looked across the room as she lay there. It was Obit, his breath heavy and his eyes open wide as he stood silhouetted by the moonlight that fell through the door behind him.


    She glanced up, noticing with relief that Refenial was starting to stir. At least whatever madness had brought Obit here so dramatically hadn''t involved her other apprentice.


    "T-this better be important, idiot child, or this will be the night I kill you." She said, instantly regretting letting her annoyance at being woken so suddenly in the middle of the might get the better of her.


    "There are monsters outside the village. There''s hundreds of them, thousands. It''s an army of them!" Obit declared, his eyes somehow opening even wider.


    She slowly heaved herself into a sitting position, her bones crunching with age as she did. She was careful to keep the pain of the movement from her face.


    Villagers had surrounded the door, A few carrying torches whose light streamed into her tiny abode. They were talking in confused but worried tones, clearly as unsure as her of what to make of the boy''s warnings.


    Fetch my sticks, boy." She said to Refenial. They had fallen out of reach near the bed, and she didn''t want the villagers to see how much she would struggle to reach them. Thankfully the boy diligently obeyed. "Come here." She told Obit. The boy rushed towards her.


    As he did so, she considered her options. She had so little power left, she couldn''t waste a drop on a false alarm, but she would need to act if there were monsters. She looked Obit in his green eyes as he stood before, so she sought any hint of deception or delusion on the young boy''s face as she asked, "Is what you said the absolute truth?"


    "Yes." The boy replied with an unusual degree of sombre certainty.


    It was settled in her mind at that moment as she released more mana from maintaining the enchantment that gave her life, releasing it so her magic could lift her up and move her body free from the weaknesses of her old flesh.


    As she began to float towards her door, she heard cries of alarm in the distance as villagers confirmed the boy''s message. "Move back", She snarled at the villagers, using her magic to enhance her voice to cover it from its aged, shaking quality. The Villagers rushed to obey, quickly clearing a path out of her home.


    She began casting as she moved, and as she reached outside, she finished and poured mana into the spell form, allowing her to fly upwards rapidly the moment she floated outside.


    She looked down as she shot up. Despite the moonlight, it was too dark for her ancient eyes to clearly understand what was happening. She let her life slip away slightly more as she created a spell form for orbs of light similar to the one she had shown Refenial but much brighter and much more in number. As she worked to complete the spell, she heard a crash and screaming, but she focused on the task. As the last mote of mana fell into the spell form, orbs of light sprang forth in every direction, lighting the night of the forest to daylight for miles around.


    Hecate looked down at the village. It was much, much worse than she could have imagined.


    She cursed silently to herself. She knew something was after Refenial, that it had sent the wolf. She should have fled after the attack. She should have pushed the boy harder and made him stronger faster. She should have given Obit the damn sword. Even now, just the thought of letting go of the sword and her childhood dream pained her. She loathed sentimentality clouding reason, yet she had allowed sentimentality to get the better of her when it came to the sword, and she would pay for her sin.


    A tidal wave of monsters surrounded the village crushing at its walls as they crumbled under the onslaught. Already the village gate lay in ruins carved open by a monstrous deer.


    There was another crash, and then another and another as monsters ripped the wall down.


    She considered fleeing but to where? To what? She had so little power left. Tonight would be a gamble. She was so weak now that she doubted she could stand without magic, even using both canes. No, she had a slim chance, her apprentices, Refenial and the idiot child. They both had the potential for real power. Perhaps she could use that and leverage it in some way. She didn''t have any plans for that, but she could work that out later when the battle was over. She had another problem first. She needed to make sure they survived the night.


    She released the enchantment still further as she began to assault the monsters below with a bombardment of magical attacks.


    The attacks sowed confusion and chaos amongst the monsters taking out several of the larger ones. This would only buy a little time as she searched the chaos of fighting below, ignoring the new monsters that constantly streamed in.


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    She spotted Obit first. He was standing there, lost in the madness and confusion of battle. Finding her target, she summoned her copper blade and quickly dropped down until she was only a few feet above him. "Obit!" She called out, using magic once more to make her voice heard above the madness. The boy swung around, startled, the stick in his hand raised as if he was about to strike her down.


    She let go of the sword in her hand. She let go of Un. Giving it up felt like an admission of failure, but she would survive today, and if her childhood dreams were all she had to sacrifice, then that was the price she would pay. The sword fell to the ground near its true master and sliced into the ground, standing upright, handle in the air.


    Take the sword, find Refenial, tell him..." As she spoke, she saw several villagers almost entirely overrun by monsters, and she released a quick barrage of magic towards them, buying the villagers a little more time. "Tell him that you both need to go to the ruins now. He''ll understand what it means. I will watch from above and protect you as you go."


    The Obit''s face scrunched up sadly. "No! I won''t leave my family behind."


    She inwardly cursed at the idiot child as she looked around the battlefield. From her vantage point, she could see much further than Obit. she could see his mother lying on the ground as she weakly struggled against a pack of monsters that were biting into her. Many of the other villagers were also dead, dying or soon would be. She didn''t have the time, mana or patience to reason with the boy. To convince the fool to do what he needed to survive


    "There''s no time. I''ll protect them. I''ll protect everyone here, but you need to hurry." She lied, hoping that the boy would forgive her in time.


    Obit nodded, grabbed the sword and ran off.


    She flew back up, careful not to lose him, as she saw him run to Refenial.


    She looked away momentarily and saw the villagers were losing badly. She needed them to buy more time and released wave after wave of attack onto the monsters below. She made sure in the process to clear a path for the pair of children. She saw Refenial and Obit running towards a gap in the wall and, with a last barrage, destroyed the monsters between them and freedom.


    She hung there in the sky, her magic and life nearly depleted. Death and carnage ripped hungrily through the villagers below. She waited, though, waited as long as she dared and hoped the children would make it to the ruins in time. She floated above the massacre until only a few villagers remained. One by one, villagers were overrun by the horde and fell screaming and bloodied to the mass of devouring monsters. The monsters made no destruction in their relentless attack, man or woman, child, adult, or elder, no quarter given, no mercy allowed. The snow was red and slick with the blood of the fallen village.


    If she didn''t stop this army of monsters here today, she wouldn''t have the strength to do it tomorrow. It had to die if she was to live. It all had to die. She released all but the last tiny sliver of her enchantment. For that brief moment, power flowed through her and for the first time in hundreds of years, she felt something close to her true strength. She cancelled the spell lighting the forest and village and directed her mana elsewhere.


    The spell form she began to weave was far from her favourite. She''d always preferred others, even among similar spells, finding this one crude and distasteful. What it lacked in refinement, it made up for in raw power.


    She looked down at the villagers as the mana finished flowing into the spell. Only three remained, and one of them, Obit''s father, looked up at her. His wide eyes stared through her with the haunted horror of a man who had lost everything. His face was disconcertingly calm, as if his soul had already departed to join his family even while his body still lived.


    "I''m sorry." She whispered too softly for the man to hear. This was one more death that she''d remember for a long time.


    The spell was completed, and the world went white.


    All senses left her for a long moment as the spell''s protections guarded her against the inferno of mana.


    When her senses returned, she found herself in a bank of smoke that she quickly flew out of. Beneath her, the village was gone, replaced by a deep crater. The horde assaulting it was also completely gone, vaporized along with the villagers.


    The village wasn''t the only thing missing, though, for miles around the forest was in ruins, the trees nearest reduced to nothing more than splinters and smouldering ash, but even in the distance, she could see great oaks laying on their sides ripped from the ground like blades of grass.


    Her mana was near gone, only the dregs of the dregs remaining. She put it all into the spell that gave her flight and quickly flew towards the ruins.


    She hoped the boys had reached it, knowing its magic would protect them. A cold sliver of fear sat in her chest as she worried they might not have made it.


    She quickly found the menhirs, the only things still standing in the now desolate wasteland. She flew through and was relieved to see both boys standing there, their mouths still agape as they looked at the destruction around them.


    With the last of the magic in the flight spell, she drifted over to the stone table and lay gently upon it.


    Both boys approached her, Obit running, Refenial more slowly as he watched the ground beneath his feet.


    "Wow! Did you make that happen, Old Mother Hecate? That was amazing! I bet all the monsters are dead. Did the village get damaged? I bet Daddy will be cross that all those monsters were running all over his fields." Obit asked as he stared at her with wide-eyed amazement.


    Old Mother Hecate looked at him and sighed, "I-idiot child."


    "Where''s everyone else? Will they be coming here too?" the boy asked, a smile forming remarkably quickly on his face after the horrors he''d just witnessed.


    Refenial finally reached them, looking down at her. "Are you ok?" he asked, pausing for a moment before he turned to Obit. "I think that took a lot out of her. She probably needs to rest before we talk to her."


    "Oh, of course! I thought she was old before, but now she''s really, really, really. rea-" Obit paused mid-sentence as a crow flew into the ruins and alighted on one of the crumbling pillars. K-kaw, k-kaw. The crow cried before it stood straight and unmoving.


    "S-shit", Hecate swore, realizing what message the bird was giving.


    "D-don''t trust her." She said in a loud whisper that was all her body could manage. Refenial glanced at her, his face confused, but Obit didn''t seem to hear the warning.


    Hecate watched as her mother stepped through the space between the Menhirs and into the ruins.

 Chapter 12 -The death of Old Mother Hecate-

    Refenial stood next to Obit as he looked at the mushroom cloud, some whisper in his memory. Perhaps, a vestigial spark of instinct left from the person he''d been before; screamed in the back of his mind. Screamed that that cloud was a symbol of death, more terrifying than any other. He didn''t need that faint warning, though. The obliterated forest that burned and smouldered in places, not a tree left upright for miles, spoke for itself.


    "Wow," Obit whispered next to him.


    Refenial felt a breeze as something moved behind him. He turned to look. It took him a second to recognize the figure.


    Old Mother Hecate floated unsteadily towards the stone table at the centre of the ruins. She had aged now to the point she no longer looked human. Every bump and nodule of her skull was visible through the sallow skin of her bald head. There was not an ounce of fat on her body, and skin hung from her body in wrinkled pools.


    She lay on the table looking more like a corpse in repose than a living person.


    Obit Began running towards her. Refenial moved slowly, both wary of what might be beneath the vines and also to open his soul eyes as he did. The motes of mana in the ruins barely moved, only a few being gently drawn towards the failing enchantment on the old woman''s soul.


    "Wow! Did you make that happen, Old Mother Hecate? That was amazing! I bet all the monsters are dead. Did the village get damaged? I bet Daddy will be cross that all those monsters were running all over his fields." Obit began babbling excitedly at the old woman, seemingly unperturbed by her horrific state.


    Refenial closed his soul''s eyes and approached Hecate. She muttered something, her voice too faint to make out.


    "Where''s everyone else? Will they be coming here too?" Obit asked, seeming to have quickly recovered from his ordeal in the village moments ago.


    "Are you ok?" Refenial asked the ruined crone softly, instantly berating himself for asking such an obvious question. He looked over at the excited Obit and turned to the young boy putting his hand on his shoulder. "I think that took a lot out of her. She probably needs to rest before we talk to her."


    Obit began to speak, but Refenial missed what he said, instead focusing on a crow that flew into the ruins, landing on one of the ruin''s pillars. The younger boy stopped talking as he followed Refenial''s gaze.


    A crow. He''d seen nothing living in these ruins other than plants. However, he''d heard a crow on that foggy day he''d first woken. It was strange. Other than the occasional crow, he''d rarely seen birds in the village. Now he thought back to the terrible day he''d fought the wolf and the crows that had saved him.


    It all seemed odd, sinister, but maybe he was overthinking it. The crows had saved him.


    K-Kaw K-Kaw, the crow cried out into the frosty silent air of the night.


    Old Mother Hecate whispered something. Refenial glanced down at her "D-Don''t trust her." he heard the woman faintly whisper.


    Refenial looked up as a figure walked into the ruin from between the Menheirs.


    She walked through with an unhurried gait of supreme confidence and authority. She was tall, with long raven black hair, pale, fair skin, and red lips. She wore a luxurious ballgown with a scandalously low cut. The dress moved unnaturally, as if it was a thousand dresses that shimmered and roiled between each other as she moved, each dress picking the perfect moment to appear. Her face seemed impossibly beautiful in its regal features. Impossible was the right word, Refenial decided. Her face was flawless, yet he''d have struggled to remember anything about it if he had looked away. It was jarring, as if her face only wore the abstract concept of beauty as a mask, and something else lurked beneath.


    "Oh, my poor, poor, little ones." she said in a voice that dripped worry and concern, her mouth turning down in sadness, although there was a hint of hunger behind her eyes.


    A feeling of horror crept up Refenial''s spine at her words, and as he noticed, what he thought was hair was, in fact, slender feathers that cascaded down her back. "M-Monster." Refenial stuttered


    The thing in front of him smiled. "Did your Old Mother never teach you that if you have nothing nice to say, you should say nothing at all?"


    Obit raised the sword in his hand up in a threatening posture.


    The monster raised its hands soothingly. "now, now, little one. I mean, you no harm. I''m simply here t-. Oh my, Un chosen, little Hildagard must have been so furious."


    Obit glanced at Refenial uncertainly.


    Refenial stepped forwards. "Who are you?"


    "Oh my, didn''t she tell you about me? And now she''s not in any state to do the introductions. What a quandary." The monster tapped her lip with her sharpened fingernail thoughtfully. "Well, little Sir Obit and wise young Refenial, I am Griselda, some call me the Crow Queen, but we are family, so I think we can do without the formality."


    "Family?" Obit asked.


    "Ah, she didn''t tell you that either. My, my, I despair of all the secrets she keeps.


    Old Mother Hecate is a name she made up to hide away. Her real name is Hildergade Crowchild, and she is my daughter, by adoption, of course."


    "You''re a monster. You eat people; you don''t adopt them." Refenial said sceptically.


    "Oh, and she has neglected your education too. I truly despair. Monsters only hunger after mortals until their soul is complete. Few live that long, of course. However, those like me that do, after a time, lose the need and can think quite rationally."


    "I don''t believe you!" Obit shouted.


    Griselda smiled sadly at Obit. "And what do you believe, poor, poor, little one? I left Refenial in her care, just like I left that sword in her care, and what do I come to see, the village in ruins and your sword raised against me." She lowered her arms and knelt down to Obit''s height even though a significant distance separated them. "She has done you all much wrong, but I am here to make it better. You can both come with me if you want to, and together we can go on grand adventures." She looked up at Refenial. "And together, we can find out why you were in these ruins and help stop whatever that thing is inside you."


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    "I don''t believe you. Old Mother Hecate is good. She helped me lots. Like when she stopped the wolf monster," Obit said Hotly.


    Griselda nodded softly. "Yes, she helped you, little one, but what about Maxit?"


    "The monster killed him. She couldn''t save him."


    "Oh?" Griselda said doubtfully. She raised her hand up, and an image was projected into the air. It was imperfect in its colours, but it was a recording in soul sight. In it, Maxit was slumped against the tree. Old Mother Hecate stood over him, casting a spell that twisted into the boy, and a second later, he stopped breathing.


    Refenial felt ill as he watched and glanced over at Hecate. The look on her face convinced him of the recording''s validity.


    Bile rose in his throat, and he vomited onto the vines. He''d trusted her, and he''d trusted that she would keep him safe from the monsters like the wolf. He''d slept in the same room as Maxit''s murderer, eaten meals together, looked up to her. The whole time he''d been terrified of what was outside the village. He should have been worried about what was inside with him. She''d seemed odd with her strange powers, but despite that, she''d always seemed mundane, a frail old woman, not the murderer that now sat in the image before him. While Griselda might be a monster in the shape of a human, Hecate was something more terrifying, a murderer that could hide behind the dull mundanity of humanity.


    "What? I don''t get it?" Obit asked, his sword drooping in his hand as he looked back and forth between the looping projection and Refenial.


    Refenial spat vomit from his mouth. "She... she killed him."


    "But, but, you''re a prince, and she''s your teacher." The boy babbled, seemingly struggling to take in the situation.


    "No! I''m not. She''s not. I woke up here with no memory, and something is wrong with my soul."


    Griselda hung her head sadly. "Do not blame Refenial. He was under my daughter''s influence. She probably made him deceive you."


    Obit raised his hands to his ears, shaking his head violently. "It''s lies, all lies. I don''t believe you!"


    "I am truly sorry, sorry for both of you. I trusted my daughter, and she strayed from what is right."


    Refenial felt as lost as Obit looked. It all felt surreal, like a waking nightmare.


    Obit turned to Old Mother Hecate as she watched him on the slab and raised his sword towards her. "Why?" he asked, his arm shaking.


    Griselda approached and placed her hand on Obit''s shoulder in tender reassurance.


    "She was a troubled child, Obit. She was gifted with true magic in a way I''ve seen in no mortal before or since. She used it to kill, though. She''d killed many people before I found her. I took her in, gave her a home, and was a loving mother to her. I''m sorry she took everything from you, Obit and used you too, Refenial. I''m sorry that she killed your parents like that, Obit."


    "W-wh-what?" Obit asked, his voice cracking with grief.


    Griselda looked down sadly at Obit, but for one brief moment, Refenial was sure he caught a hint of amusement in her eyes. "One more evil she leaves burdened on my shoulders to fix. The village is gone, Obit. Your family, the villagers, they''re all dead. She murdered them all, just like she did that day in the forest when she murdered Maxit."


    The sword fell from Obit''s hand as Griselda brought him in for a hug.


    "Hush, little one. You can come and live with me, Refenial too." She said, reaching out a hand towards him.


    Refenial instinctively moved away, not trusting the monster.


    He felt the thing, the horror inside his soul, begin to wildly fight and buck as it took advantage of his horrified mental state. He stumbled and nearly fell as he struggled to breathe under the power of its assault against his soul. He closed his eyes as he tried to focus inwards, but with his mind so jumbled and distraught, nothing happened. The thing redoubled its efforts as cracks began forming across his soul.


    He heard Griselda speak, but it was too distant for him to make out.


    He tried once more, but as he did, he fell to the ground, his body spasming as convulsions wracked it. The thing was free once more. It began to weave its spell form. His soul''s eyes flickered open, and Refenial and the thing looked through them. It spoke to him for the first time through their connection, it didn''t use words, but still, its message came through the link. Refenial felt his mind straining to near annihilation to understand the concepts and meaning as if someone had stuffed all human understanding in the brain of an ant.


    What little he could understand could be summed up into one short sentence.


    I am inevitable.


    Refenial saw Griselda weaving a spell form in the air, but with casual disregard, the thing swatted at it with a soul tendril, instantly smashing the spellform. The thing finished its spellform, crushing two more of Griselda''s with just as much ease. It then reached forwards for the mana around them. Refenial''s soul crumbled more and more as it did. It became impossible to tell where his soul ended, and the thing''s soul began.


    He tried fighting it back like he had before, but it felt impossible. He fought with every ounce of will he possessed, his mind slowly calming from the revelations of moments ago as he no longer had the time to process them. Despite his efforts, the thing barely slowed as it reached forwards, grabbing the mana and starting to bring it into itself.


    Griselda ran forwards and grabbed the grief-stricken Obit. Obit seemed too lost in his sorrow to respond and went limp in her arms as she picked him up, only keeping enough strength in his arm to loosely hold his sword.


    Griselda ran for the exit from the ruins as she held Obit tight to her, her crow flying ahead.


    Mana flowed through the air as an impossible torrent. Through the closed eyelids of his mundane eyes, he saw the air light up with raw magic, something he''d never seen before. Even the spell to connect to systematic magic and Hecate''s life extension spell combined had only taken a tiny fraction of the mana that was now being sucked into their entwined souls.


    An overwhelming amount of the mana was being sucked into the thing. He could already feel his broken soul crumble further under the weight of the mana he absorbed. If this continued much longer, his soul would be destroyed.


    The horror began reaching out a tentacle to redirect the mana towards its mysterious spellform.


    Refenial fought it now with every inch of his soul. He struggled against it as blood ran from every orifice of his body, as his body violently convulsed. He felt his soul begin to melt away. For every second he held, for every second he fought, he drew ever closer to death. With a shuddering jolt, the tendril stopped, held shakily in place by his will.


    What was he to do. He couldn''t stop the mana. That was the first and most repeated warning Old Mother Hecate had given him. Once you began to absorb mana, you only ever stopped by connecting it to a spell or by the mana ripping your soul apart.


    The mana was gathering still faster and faster in his soul. He knew if he didn''t act, he would die. A terrible explosion, something that would maybe take the thing with him. Perhaps it would set it free. The other option was to complete the connection and send the mana into the horror''s spell, allowing it to complete its sinister magic.


    He still didn''t know what the spell did, but having fought it and had it speak to him, he knew whatever the spell did would be awful. His mind roiled in pain and chaos as he considered the impossible dilemma. It was hard to think as he struggled, his body and soul dying with every second of hesitation.


    He felt a gentle wisp of a spell gently brush against his mind. "Send it into my enchantment, boy." the voice of Old Mother Hecate whispered in his mind. He looked over at her with his soul''s eyes. Her enchantment was failing. She had used the last of its power to send that message. Her breathing was slowing as death was taking her.


    He had no time, no time to think, no time to consider if this murderer he''d once trusted was the lesser evil. He had no time, so he acted. He exerted his will as he pushed with every fibre of his being the mana-infused tendril move towards the old woman''s soul.


    I am inevitable.


    The thing that lurked in his soul said once more before its tendril connected the mana to the enchantment. The mana burned through his soul as it left into the enchantment. Defeated once more, the thing began to slink back into its cage as his soul quickly reformed and recaptured the abyssal horror.


    Above him, he could hear the animalistic screams of a woman whose body was ripped asunder by magic. He had no strength to even check if it was the screams of death or rebirth as he faded into unconsciousness.

 Chapter 13 -The calm after the storm-

    Refenial woke slowly, scrunching his eyes tight as he rolled over, enjoying the comfort and warmth of his bed, its divinely soft mattress and the gentle embrace of the covers.


    Despite the relaxing comfort, something felt wrong. A gentle concern nagged at the back of his half-asleep mind. He began to drift asleep once more before everything suddenly connected. His eyes opened, expecting to see the open sky of the ruins above him.


    Instead, above him were wooden rafters. He fidgeted slightly. The bed he lay in was by far the most comfortable piece of furniture he''d ever experienced. Not even a single strand of straw was beneath poking into him.


    He sat up and looked around. The room was of respectable size but not huge, with wooden floors and walls. Across from the bed, light entered from a glass-paned window. The room what furnished with basic wooden furniture but lacked any sense of personal touch that one would expect in a typical bedroom.


    He glanced over. On the bedside table were a metal whistle, a leather pouch and two letters stacked one upon the other. The topmost had ''Read me'' written on it in plain handwriting.


    He closed his eyes and opened them again, half expecting this to all be some strange dream. He closed his eyes and looked inwards towards his soul, surprised to note as he did that he lacked any of the aches and pains he''d expected from the night at the village and ruins.


    His focus moved down, and his soul''s eyes opened. He carefully examined his soul. It had reformed once more, but as he looked more closely, he shivered. Dark specks were visible along its surface, tiny fragments of the thing mixed into his own soul. He could feel a faint connection with it and was sure it could now communicate with him if it so desired. It seemed happy to wait certainly of its own inevitability.


    He wasn''t sure what it meant or how to fix this. He wondered if the Old Mother would know. Thoughts of her instantly brought back memories of Maxit, the village, Obit, and the image he''d seen in the ruin.


    He clenched his fists tightly as he closed his soul''s eyes. He looked down, realizing that his right hand was fully healed, though where his body had healed, the skin looked visibly paler. It was fresh and as yet untouched by the sun. He opened and closed the hand a few times but found no flaw in its movement.


    The letters still sat there unread, taunting with their possibility of answers.


    He reached over and picked up the one with ''Read me'' written on it. It was a simple unsealed sheet of paper, so he unfolded it and began to read


    Refenial,


    It is sad that the villagers and Maxit died, but I am not sorry for my actions. I won''t explain why I did what I did through a letter, and I don''t think you''re ready to hear me yet anyway.


    Thanks to you, my power is back, and I am stronger than ever. Griselda took Obit. She is an evil monster who uses people like tools and weapons. She hides behind a kind and loving act, so Obit will be safe for now, especially while he believes her.


    I will eventually be going after her. I want her dead.


    If you want to help me and try to break Obit away from her, you will need to be stronger. I was involved in founding an academy in the capital a long time ago, and my recommendation, the other letter here, will carry enough weight for you to get in.


    If you want to be strong enough to fight against Griselda and get Obit back, then you will attend.


    I have left enough money for you in a pouch to get there safely. I would take you myself, but I have too much I need to do to get ready for the battle against Griselda, besides you need time before you will be prepared to listen.


    I also acquired a magic whistle for you to use for your title. It has a spellform carved into it. If you infuse it with mana while you play, it will create a sound attack that will harm people nearby.


    Hildegard Crowchild


    Ps. Remember not to trust Griselda.


    Refenial angrily crumpled the letter in his hand before smoothing it out again in case he needed to look at it again later.


    He put it back on the table and picked up the reference. It was a thin sheet of paper folded over and sealed with a black wax seal. An ornate coat of arms had been pressed into the wax.


    He checked the money next. He''d seen very little money while in the village, but one of the books he''d read had included a description of coinage in the kingdom. It was a dizzying mess. There were well over 30 different types of coins in the kingdom, each with their own unique value and odd exchange rate to one another. Most of the coins also had different names and slang terms, just to make the whole system even more convoluted. He gently poured the contents of the pouch on the bed. There were a fair few coins there. He was unsure of the value of some, but from those he did know, this would have been a fortune in the village. He guessed there probably was enough there for someone to live comfortably for six months to a year, twice that if they were frugal.


    He carefully returned the coins to the pouch, making sure not to lose any, especially the tiny gold coins called ''false kings'' that were barely larger than a fingernail.


    Lastly, he looked at the whistle. It was a simple instrument meant to be played with two hands. He didn''t recognize the metal it was made from. The instrument was well made, with a pattern of leaves carefully embossed across its surface. He closed his eyes and opened his soul''s eyes, curious of what he would see. He was disappointed at first as it seemed like a normal, if well made, instrument. He held it up and glanced inside and saw the inside had row upon row of tiny indents running up as far as he could see. He looked closely at it and could just make out that each indent was the rune of a spellform perfectly carved into the metal.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    He closed his soul''s eyes and opened his normal eyes, nearly dropping the whistle as there was a rap-tap tapping at his window.


    He looked around. A crow was sitting outside on the window sill, gently leaning one way then the other as if too impatient to sit still.


    Refenial put the instrument back and stood, the darned patches of his socks giving much-needed grip on the smooth wooden floor.


    He walked to the window. Outside he could see a city or maybe a town. The building he was in seemed slightly taller than most, and it gave him a view of snowy grey slate rooves atop buildings of wood and stone stretched out higglety pigglety before him. Smoke gently drifted up from the chimneys of most buildings as it was slowly lost to the bright blue of the sky. At the town''s edge, he could see the tall masts of ships and even a set of large white sails of a vessel on the move.


    The crow tapped once more impatiently.


    The latch on the window was stiff from unuse. It took a moment of struggling before he managed to open the window.


    The crow took flight and landed back upon the sill so as to allow the window to be opened.


    Refenial wrinkled his nose in disgust as the window opened. The smell of the city was eyewatering. It was a smell of rancid fat, open sewers, and thousands of unwashed bodies drifting through the window.


    The crow turned its head inquisitively at his reaction.


    Refenial looked down at the bird as the bird looked up.


    The crow began to cough, splutter and retch. It retched down at the sill and regurgitated a rolled scroll and a small silver bell, both much too large to have fitted down the bird''s gullet.


    Refenial realized that the smell of the city was now only the second most disgusting thing he''d experienced today.


    The bird poked at the scroll with its beak, looked up at him, poked the scroll, and once more looked at him.


    Refenial gently touched the scroll, expecting it to feel wet, but it didn''t. He carefully picked it up, and as he did so, he noticed this was also sealed with wax. The wax was pure white, and the symbol imprinted upon it was a crow sitting on a skull.


    He undid the scroll and began to read.


    To my dearest Refenial Crowchild,


    both Obit and I were distraught at the thought we might have lost you.


    However, we were much relieved to have discovered your survival.


    I am sorry that you have been through so much and that I could not reach the village in time to save its people from Hildegard.


    As the apprentice of my daughter, you are like a grandson to me, and I know Obit views you as a brother.


    He knows my daughter tricked you and places all blame for what happened with her.


    I would like you to come live with me. Obit wants you to too. The world is a dangerous place, especially for a small child like yourself.


    I''m sure Hildegard has told you many lies about me, so it will take time for you to trust me. That is why I''ve also sent the silver bell with the crow.


    Simply infuse the bell with mana while ringing it.


    I know my daughter taught you how, despite how negligent a teacher she has been otherwise.


    If you do that, it will summon a crow. Tell it what you need, and it will be done.


    Money, food, or to let me know you''re ready to come home. Ring the bell whenever you need help, as often as you want, and if it is within my power, I''ll make sure it happens.


    With Much love,


    Griselda the Crow Queen, and Obit


    Refenial finished reading the scroll and lowered it. The crow gave a satisfied nod and flew away.


    Griselda seemed nice, but it felt wrong. It reminded him of the wolf when it had pretended to be a sweet merchant in the forest. He wondered if she would turn on him like the wolf had when the children refused to play along with its act.


    He gently picked up the bell and examined it with both sets of eyes. It was polished silver with an ivory handle. Inside the bell, like with the whistle, the tiny symbols of a spellform covered its surface.


    He closed the window and set the bell, and scroll by the bedside table. Sitting on the bed as he thought.


    So much had happened, and so much sat at the back of his mind. He pushed it away, though. That was a problem for tomorrow, a problem for a different him at a different time. He needed to work out what to do today, travel to this magic school, or go to Griselda. He considered both options. Neither seemed right. Maybe tomorrow, he''d do one or the other. Today though, he needed to work to understand this world. If he failed to understand, he''d just be another victim of collateral damage as people like Hecate or Hildegard, as she was going by now, and Griselda fought.


    "I need power," he said to himself, then looked down as he heard his stomach rumble.


    "I need food. Then I need power." He corrected himself.


    He took the coin purse, pulling the string tight. Its string was long enough to place around his neck, so he did so. He considered taking the other items with him but didn''t have a way of carrying them, so instead hid them around the room.


    He put on his clogs and opened the door to the room, stepping out.


    He was on a landing that formed a square around a large room. At its centre, a glass chandelier hung. Daylight streamed down from a skylight above the chandelier.


    He stepped to the edge holding tightly to the handrail as he looked down.


    He was two floors up. Below was a spotless stone-flagged floor, surrounded by four walls of brown varnished wood. A lady walked arm in arm with a man. Both wore the finest clothes he''d ever seen.


    He pulled back and quickly found the carpeted stairs that led to the ground floor.


    As he stepped into the building''s foyer, he looked around. The couple he''d seen from upstairs gave him a disgusted grimace before turning away from him.


    There was a fine wood counter that he''d missed before because he''d been standing directly above it. An older man in his late 50s with an impeccable sense of dress stood with an air of relaxed formality behind the counter. He noticed Refenial and gave a warm nod and smile to him.


    Refenial approached the man and the counter.


    "The young lady said you might be confused when you wake, young master. I can help if you have any questions." He said to Refenial warmly


    Refenial wrinkled his brow in confusion "Young lady?"


    "yes, she went by the name Hildegard. She said she rescued you after your village was attacked but that you''d received a nasty blow to the head.


    She paid for your stay here until the end of the week, another four days."


    "Oh." He said, trying to match the phrase ''young lady'' with his mental image of his decrepit mentor.


    "If I might be so bold, young master, I can send some food up to your room and a bath. I can also send for a tailor." the man said, the kindly look on his face taking the sting out of the implication of his words.


    Refenial looked down at his clothes. Even before the attack, they had been dirty, threadbare and covered with patches crudely sown over their many holes.


    Now, however, they were much worse. They were covered in dirt, blood and ash, his skin poking out in several places from tears. His hands, he realized, were not much cleaner.


    He frowned, thinking about how much this would set back his coin purse.


    The man seemed to read his thoughts. "The young lady paid quite generously for your stay, also the ''the white rose gardens''; this establishment takes pride in its hospitality. You won''t need to pay for these services during your stay."


    "Thanks. I''ll head upstairs." Refenial said, heading back up.

 Chapter 14 -The new girl-

    Refenial had barely made it back to his room when a smartly dressed woman knocked on the door, bringing a plate of food and a mug of drink.


    He looked down at the food. It was a mix of cold meats and cheese with a side of bread and butter. He ripped into the feast hungrily, sipping at the drink. It tasted yeasty and had a slightly tart hint of alcohol to the taste, but much less than would have any effect on even his young body.


    A metal bath was brought to his room and hot water. He relaxed in the luxury of the water. In the village, washing mainly had been using rags and cold water as he stood outside. He''d hated it, especially when it had got colder, and he had to do it in the snow.


    This was, by comparison, heaven.


    While he was in the bath, his clothes were taken away to be disposed of, and he was lent a simple set of clothes by the establishment. By his request, they had found clothes that were a mixture of brown and green, which he hoped was enough to count as pied.


    He dressed, and soon after, a tailor appeared and took his measurements. Refenial explained that he was titled and needed pied clothes, which surprised the elderly tailor, but he agreed to make the clothes as well as a bag to go with them.


    Soon Refenial was left once more in his room, lying on his bed as he watched the sky. Angry clouds threatened trials ahead, but they were distant. Where he looked, the sky was still a beautiful blue, with the occasional fluffy cloud that floated calmly by.


    He saw a cloud that reminded him of a dragon, then a cloud that reminded him of a car, then another that looked all too much like a crow, and his mind soured as he started to think back on the events of the day before.


    He sat up irritably and walked to the window, looking out. The street was full of the bustle of life. A pair of sailors staggered drunkenly down the road. A well-dressed young woman looked at them with a mixture of fear and disgust. A young girl of maybe five, dressed in dirty clothes, not more than rags, stared at the fancy woman with a whistful expression on her face that looked tired despite her youth. A man dressed in worker''s clothes with a face weathered and craggy pushed a wheelbarrow of coal expertly navigating the piles of filth, excrement and discarded debris that was scattered across the street.


    He decided first to look back at his systemic magic status.


    [


    Name: Refenial Crowchild


    Age: 10/??/#non-interger error#


    Title: Pied Piper


    Rank: 1


    Stats


    Fate: 0


    Charm: 0


    Mana: 0


    Reason: 0


    Cunning: 0


    Resilience: 0


    Agility: 0


    Power: 0


    Free points: 1


    Skills:


    N/A


    Powers:


    Entrancing sound (0)


    ]


    He looked at his stats and the free point he still had remaining and felt conflicted.


    On the one hand, he needed to spend that point eventually. On the other, he had no idea how much of a difference it would make and which stat to spend it on.


    A wrong choice here could be disastrous down the line. He knew taking no risks would stunt his growth, and until he''d experienced what the system offered, he''d have no hope of learning how best to spend the points.


    He didn''t feel ready to make the choice, though.


    He stared ahead for long moments, angry at his own indecision. He closed the status and stepped away from the window, taking the items he''d stashed around the room and placing them in a bag provided by the establishment sitting at his hip.


    He walked out of his room, down the stairs and across the foyer, intending to leave. As he did so, the old gentleman from behind the counter hurried over to him.


    Refenial looked across at the man.


    "Might I be correct in assuming this is the young master''s first time in town?"


    Refenial nodded.


    "Then I would advise caution, avoid deserted roads and alleyways. Always keep one hand on your bag in case of thieves. Don''t follow strangers offering gifts, and return before nightfall.


    The town is relatively safe, but it isn''t without those who would prey on a young boy."


    "Thank you, I''ll remember that," Refenial said with a respectful nod before stepping out into the cold sunny air.


    He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted. It took his nose longer to adjust to the stench as he looked around. The roads were cobbled, and Patches of brown ice remained where the snow not yet melted by human footfall had met the street''s squalor.


    In his wide-eyed examination of the street, he didn''t notice the young man, barely out of his twenties, who staggered into Refenial. The young man muttered something incoherent that sounded cross between an apology and an insult. For one brief moment, the smell of booze on the young man drowned out the city''s pungent odour.


    Refenial instinctively reached for his bag, relieved to find it unmolested.


    He walked through the town, taking in the sights and sounds while trying not to take in the smells.


    It was a bustling port town. Many of the people wore clothes similar to those worn by the villagers. The streets, at times, felt claustrophobic to walk through. They were often narrow and always winding. The buildings eves hung far into the streets. Their weathered facades had a lived-in crookedness of things repaired and refurbished many times, not always by the most skilled of hands.


    The streets waxed and waned. Their size was determined by whatever gap happened to be between two buildings. The city was full of tight choke points that squeezed people in tightly only to a few dozen feet later spread out into wide, well-lit roads.


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Most notable, at least to him, were the foreigners. Everyone he''d seen before had pale skin, at most tanned by the sun, but here and there, he saw men and women, mostly sailors with slightly darker skins or facial structures that clearly marked them apart from the natives of this land. Many wore clothes of odd cuts and colours that also clearly felt out of place.


    As a group passed wearing long robes that covered them from head to toe, leaving only their eyes visible, he overheard them speaking in what he guessed was their native tongue. He was surprised he could understand every word they said as they joked about the local women.


    As he wandered through the town, he soon found himself by the docks. They were full of the noise of busy men and a few women, the kind that would work day in and out at backbreaking labour for a pittance and still laugh and banter with one another. Burly figures, a few even topless despite the cold air as they worked hard moving around heavy crates and barrels. At the centre of this hive of labour sat a large three-masted ship, its goods being unloaded.


    Refenial leaned against a stone-walled building as he watched them work with casual curiosity.


    He noticed movement at the back of the ship and someone prowled cautiously along its aft deck. The figure kept low as they moved slowly, sneaking forwards.


    "Who the bloody hell is that?" A dockhand called out, pointing at the skulking figure.


    A sailor, an older, slightly portly man with once white clothes stained brownish-yellow with grime, came out from below deck at the noise. His eyes followed the dockhand''s pointing. The sailor shouted back down below deck, "I fucking told you we had a stowaway, but oh no. Old Hiln is just going senile and eating all the fucking food."


    Sailors began to pile out from below decks as the figure looked around desperately, a crowd of dockhands blocking their escape route on land.


    The figure took a long stick slung around their back and held it up in the air, pointing towards the sea. There was a loud splash as something fired from the stick hit the dock''s water.


    "It''s a titled!" one of the sailors called out in alarm.


    The figure called out in a loud voice, "Let me go, and you''ll come to no harm."


    There were looks of confusion on the faces of both the sailors and dockhands. It took a moment for Refenial to realize it was because the figure was speaking a different language.


    One of the sailors began inching towards the figure, who quickly pointed the stick towards the sailor. There was another crack and the sound of splintering wood as something hit the deck near the sailor.


    This was turning bad fast. Refenial decided to act before anyone died.


    He stepped forwards pulling his metal whistle from its pouch and played a shrill note on his whistle. The dock had already grown silent as everyone stopped to watch the scene on board the ship unfold. The whistle sounded louder than he''d expected, the gusting sea air taking the sound right across the dock as every set of eyes, from sailor, to dockhand, to passerby, to skulking figure, all turned to look at him.


    He suddenly felt very exposed as the crowd all watched him with evident confusion.


    He took a deep breath before speaking, knowing it was too late to worry about stage fright. "They want to leave. I can understand their language and negotiate." He yelled towards the sailors.


    "They can''t understand you. I can negotiate." He called out to the figure in its language.


    "Oh? And how do you know the tongue?" the figure called back, in a voice he was sure was female, but they were too obscured for him to tell visually.


    One of the sailors called back to Refenial, "They''re not getting off this ship til we get payment for passage and for the damage that thing of theirs did to the deck."


    "I''ll tell her." He said before repeating the message to the woman.


    "Do you think I''d stowaway if I had money?" The woman called back incredulously.


    "What do you want me to say to them?" Refenial asked, wondering if getting involved had been a mistake.


    There was a long pause, and the woman called back less certainly, "Tell them I can''t pay now, but I''ll earn the money and pay them back when I can." Refenial translated her.


    "no fuckin way. If she can''t pay, then well take that staff of hers as well as anything else she has of value, and she can work off the rest on the ship."


    This wasn''t going how Refenial hoped it would, so he tried a different tactic "How much does she owe?"


    "Six bastard sons ought to cover it." the man called back.


    It took Refenial a moment to remember that ''bastard sons'' was a common nickname of a coin usually called a ''lesser prince''. That was a lot of money, just over half the value of the money in his coin purse. He was extremely sceptical of the price, but this didn''t seem like the right time to haggle.


    He considered what to do. If Obit was here, he''d tell him to pay since it was the right thing to do. Hecate, though, that old crone would probably tell him to keep the money. Thinking in those terms made the decision easy.


    "I''ll pay." He said definitively.


    The sailor looked surprised, and people around the dock started talking to each other. He heard several dockhands muttering, shocked that a child had that kind of money on hand.


    He called out to the woman, "I''ve agreed to pay." Having to yell louder than before as the wind had picked up noticeably since the start of the conversation. The clouds that had seemed distant when he''d first set out were rapidly approaching.


    "Ah, thanks?" the woman called back in a suspicious and uncertain tone.


    The sailor met him on the dock, and he carefully counted out his money, the purse now feeling much lighter as he placed it back around his neck. The sailor took the money gleefully. "She''s free to go."


    As he said those words, a system message appeared.


    [Rank up]


    "You can come down now," Refenial called out.


    The woman, no, a teenage girl of maybe 16, came down the gangplank, and he got a good look at her for the first time.


    She was dressed in a black and blue dress with a matching headscarf that completely hid her hair. Her clothes looked almost as threadbare as Refenial''s old clothes. A weapon in the grey area between a large dagger and a small sword was strapped to her hip. She wore a small rucksack on her back, with the stick she''d used as a weapon slung on her back with a strap.


    She was significantly taller than Refenial, Her warm brown skin several shades darker than anyone he''d seen so far. Her face was drawn tight as her expression wavered between a look of fear and defiance, her dark eyes'' rapid movements giving away her distrust of those around her.


    She came to a stop in front of him and uncomfortably looked at the ground as she spoke. "Thanks, I guess."


    "I''m Refenial, you are?" He asked, but before she could respond, one of the dockhands cleared his throat aggressively, making clear that the pair were blocking his work.


    "Oh, sorry," Refenial said as the pair walked over to one side.


    "I want to be clear," the girl began nervously. "I don''t know the traditions of this land, I am grateful for your help, but I am my own person. If you want paying back, that is fine, but I will do so on my own terms."


    "That''s fine. You still haven''t told me your name?"


    "Nia. I have to ask, though, how do you speak my language?" She looked him up and down. "You clearly aren''t from my country."


    "Yeah, apparently, I can speak a lot of different languages." He paused for a moment. "It''s a long story," he hastily added, not wanting to explain further.


    "I see. Are there many others like you here that speak my language?"


    Refenial shrugged. "I don''t know, I''m new in town. I was living in a remote village before that, and today was the first time I heard another language."


    She gave him a dubious look.


    "What will you do now?" He asked.


    "I don''t know. When I came here, I didn''t consider that people wouldn''t speak my language. I know it is widely spoken in the neighbouring countries. What of you? That seemed a lot of money for a boy by the docks. Your clothes are cleaner than most here too."


    "It''s complicated. I''m... Well, to be honest, I''m not sure what I''m going to do next. I''ve got options. I''ve also got responsibilities..." He thought back to the promise he''d made to Alton to look after his son and tensed in frustration.


    "Responsibilities, you''re a child. Did your mommy tell you to clean your room?" She said with a chuckle. She stopped laughing when she saw the angry look on Refenial''s face.


    "I''m sorry, you helped me, and I was rude. Leave responsibilities to the old and the boring. You''re a child; live without worry." She paused, looking worried. "You are a child, right? Not some kind of dwarf that looks like a child?"


    Refenial couldn''t help but laugh at her concern. "I''m a child, sort of. It''s complicated."


    She gave him a knowing look. "It sounds like you live a very complicated life that involves many long stories, and I''m sure things you don''t want to talk about. A younger boy in my village would always talk like that. The thing was, he thought being cryptic would make him sound more special than he was. He''d go to the shed to milk a cow and come back so tight-lipped you''d have thought he''d been on a grand quest. You don''t have to impress me."


    As they talked, the sky had grown heavier and heavier, the first flakes of snow painting the ground a fresh white. She looked up, "snow? I''ve heard of it but never seen it fall from the sky before." She shivered.


    Refenial looked at the girl. Her dress was thin, clearly designed for warm weather. She had no money, spoke a language that, for all he knew, no one else in the town did besides him and was standing outside with no experience of winter.


    He sighed. "Come on, I''m staying at a place. Perhaps we can get you a room there too." He began to walk back home.


    "How much do you want me to owe you?" she grumped, but he could hear the gratitude in her voice.


    As they walked back, the snow fell, heavier and heavier as the wind began to gust then howl.

 Chapter 15 -Cornered in the snow-

    Refenial and Nia walked through the town keeping close to one another as they did. Snowfall was quickly turning into a blizzard that caused both to shiver as the icy wind cut through them. They saw people entering houses and inns, taking shelter from the cold of the storm and leaving the streets rapidly emptying.


    Nia put her hand on his shoulder. "Don''t look around. We''re being followed."


    Instinctively Refenial tried to look, but Nia''s hand forcefully stopped him. "I knew you''d do that." She chuckled before looking serious again.


    "Who are they?" Refenial asked, his mind racing, wondering if it was going to be another monster like the wolf.


    "I don''t know, but you did get a lot of money out around the people down at the docks."


    Refenial inwardly cursed, realizing she was right. He looked around the streets for possible help, but they were deserted. The pair were on their own.


    "You know this place better than me. What do we do?" Nia whispered urgently.


    "This is my first day in town. I haven''t even found out what it''s called yet."


    "How do you go to a town without even finding out what it''s called?" She asked, a condescending tone in her voice.


    "Do you know the name?" He snapped back.


    "We need to focus." She said after a brief pause.


    Refenial could see a narrow alleyway up ahead, thin enough that two people would struggle to walk side by side. It wound around the corner and between two large buildings, one of wood, the other of stone. "Let''s go down the alley there. Try to lose them." Refenial suggested.


    Nia nodded.


    "Now!" Refenial said as they bolted forwards for the alley.


    Behind them, they heard shouts as people began to give chase.


    Refenial realized their mistake as soon as they rounded the corner. The alley was a dead end blocked off by the wall of a third building. He still ran forward, dragging a hesitating nia behind him. They stopped near the end of the narrow passage and turned.


    Refenial had to crane his neck to see around Nia. Three rough-looking men were standing there, each armed with a wooden cudgel. He recognized one of them from among the crowd of dockhands he''d seen earlier. He didn''t recognize the other two.


    The dock hand grinned and glanced towards the man to his left, a lanky man with dirty blonde short hair and a thick moustache.


    "I swear, every year, kids get dumber." he quipped with the lanky man.


    "What did he say?" Nia asked


    "He''s gloating."


    The man to the right of the dockhand, a stocky man with dark greasy hair and a large burn scar on his face, spoke next, "He''s still with that darkling. She''s pretty for one of ''em."


    The lanky man laughed and nodded.


    "Just hand over the money, lad, and we can all go our separate ways, nice and simple." The dockhand said to Refenial.


    "You ever had a bit of the ol'' rumpy pumpy with a darkling before?" the lanky man asked the dockhand.


    "Nope, don''t plan to either. It''s colder than a witch''s tit out here."


    The stocky man had a considering look. "I''d give it a go. We''re near mine. Once we''ve got the money, we can take her back and give her a true Frullian welcome."


    "Can you take them out with your stick?" Refenial said quietly to Nia while the men talked.


    "Don''t call it a ''stick'' and no. I can hit one of them if they all rush down here, and it might kill them, but there''s still two more."


    Refenial''s mind raced as he thought over every resource at his disposal, his status, his whistle, the bell, Nia, her knife, and her weapon. There were too many unknowns, he had options, sure, but all of them were untested.


    "Come here and hand over the money, and you can go. I think the lads, uh, want a word with the girl before she goes." The dockhand said. The lanky man made an exaggerated kissing face towards Nia as the dockhand spoke.


    "Is he saying what I think he''s saying?" Nia asked in a mix of disgust and fear.


    He was out of certainties and out of time. It was time to gamble on the unknown. "Nia, give me your dagger, get behind me and get ready to shoot them," Refenial commanded.


    "That''s sweet, but I''m not hiding behind a little boy," she replied as she redied her stick to defend them both.


    "There''s no time, trust me," Refenial said, though she seemed to ignore his request. His mind filled with the blood he''d seen, the death of Maxit, the last stand of the village. If he didn''t act, if he didn''t stop these men, then it would be his fault.


    He thought about Obit being taken away by Griselda. He thought about Old Mother Hecate, the image of her as she murdered Maxit. He thought about his decision that he needed power.


    The thing in his soul stirred, then went silent. He wasn''t in turmoil, not yet, maybe when the deed was done, but not yet.


    No, what he felt was fury and pain, condensed by desperation and determination down into something methodical and colder than the snowstorm around them.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    He heard the dockhand say something, and the pair of cretins with him laugh, but he paid it no heed.


    Refenial opened his status and put his first point into agility. He put The second point he had earned just an hour ago into power.


    He shot past Nia, who hadn''t expected him to move, grabbing the maybe dagger from her waist suddenly. At that moment, nothing mattered, life, death, pain, joy. There was only one goal in his mind, and damn anything that might come from it.


    He walked forwards slowly, staring hatefully at the three men.


    The dockhand spoke again. This time there was no laughter.


    Refenial leapt forwards at the men, nearly losing balance as he misjudged the speed and power of his movements. He wasn''t superhuman with a point in each stat, but his abilities were far beyond what an adult would reasonably expect from a ten-year-old child.


    He wasn''t the only one thrown off guard. The dockhand moved to defend himself a second too late as Refenial lunged with the dagger.


    Some small part of him had expected that he would pause, falter and fail to harm another person with deadly intent, but any hesitation was irrelevant compared to the momentum of responsibilities and memories that pushed Refenial forwards. The knife slammed home into the dockhand''s groin, stopping only when it met bone.There was noise and chaos around him, but it all felt distant, like a dream.


    He pulled the knife free, stabbing the dockhand twice more, once in the groin and once in the stomach, as the man began to tumble backwards.


    He sensed movement to his side as he lashed out with his weapon slashing at the leg of the lanky man, though this only sliced lightly into the man''s thigh.


    The stout man swung down towards Refenial''s head with his cudgel. Refenial raised his left arm in time to block, but the cudgel hit with bone-breaking force and sent him tumbling prone back across the snow.


    Refenial looked up in time to see the lanky man''s wooden clog incoming as the man aimed a wild kick towards his head. He struggled to stand and dodge simultaneously and managed to be hit in his ribs instead of his face.


    The force of the blow sent him rolling once more.


    He looked up and saw the scene in front of him. The dockhand was kneeling. His hands clasped to his stomach and groin in a futile attempt to slow the blood that had drenched the snow around him red.


    Nia stood defiantly, weapon raised to her shoulder as she pointed it at the men, a cruel snarl on her face.


    The stout man spun on the spot as a projectile from Nia''s weapon collided with his shoulder, sending him careening to the ground.


    The lanky man ran towards her, arms outstretched to grab her.


    It was time for his trump card. He dropped the knife as he pulled his whistle from his pouch. He closed his eyes and opened his soul eyes, an action that Hecate had made him practice again and again until it became a near-instantaneous second nature.


    He''d avoided using the whistle, afraid it would also affect Nia, but he saw no other choice.


    He grabbed the mana motes floating in the air, ramming them with graceless haste into the whistle as he blew a harsh high-pitch note.


    The sound exploded out. The spell form was clearly designed to protect the user, so Refenial was protected against the damage it dealt. The snow in the air shimmered as the sound raced forwards. The men and Nia clutched at their ears in stunned pain as the wave of sound moved outwards.


    Nia and the two men who''d been standing fell to the ground, and Refenial could hear the tinkle of shattering glass in the distance.


    He used the moment to drop the whistle and grab the knife. He launched himself off the floor with every ounce of strength his battered body still possessed and charged.


    He collided with the lanky man who''d just started to stand. The man stumbled as Refenial met with him, blade first. The weapon sunk deep as he pulled it out and stabbed once more. Blood spilt onto his hands.


    The lanky man fell forwards, no longer able to stand.


    Refenial had lost track of the stout man, suddenly realizing he was next to Refenial, cudgel raised and ready to strike.


    Refenial moved but too slowly. As the cudgel came down, Nia fired a shot from her staff into the man''s body, sending him splayed across the snow.


    Refenial looked down at the three dying men and collapsed to the ground as he realized how pained and oxygen-starved his body felt.


    Nia approached each man one by one, firing a shot into their head, ending them mercilessly. Though Refenial noticed the shake of her hands as she did so.


    Refenial felt the painful cold of the snow beneath him as the wind howled between the buildings.


    "Refenial?" He heard Nia nervously ask.


    He turned his head suddenly, and Nia jumped back.


    "What are you? You were able to fight three men, and that noise was magic like I use."


    "It''s complicated," he said in a dead voice as he saw the three corpses laid out in the street.


    Slowly as his breath returned and the snow ate away at the warmth of his body, he reached the point where he decided to stand. As he moved, it was painful, his left arm looked bruised, but it was hard to move his fingers, and he suspected it was broken. Two of his ribs screamed in pain every time he breathed.


    He tried to play it off, not wanting to worry Nia and knowing with the system, the wounds would heal quickly. He carefully wiped Nia''s dagger-sword in the snow to remove the blood before returning it to her hilt first. He then took his whistle and packed it away.


    Nia said nothing as he moved.


    "I think we should leave quickly." He said, looking at the bodies.


    She nodded but didn''t say anything.


    They soon reached the white rose gardens, where he''d been staying. Refenial was relieved to see the foyer empty. As much as he found the man who ran the place friendly, he didn''t want to explain his blood-soaked clothes.


    Once he got into his bedroom, he sat cautiously on the floor. Nia came over and knelt in front of him. "You''re hurt. We need to get you to a healer."


    Refenial waved her back with his good arm and held up his pale three fingers.


    "I''ll be fine. I lost these three to a-." The words stuck in his throat. He realized he didn''t want to talk about how he''d lost them.


    "I lost them, and they grew back." He corrected himself.


    Nia looked at him suspiciously for a moment.


    "bullshit." She said uncertainly.


    "I''m titled." he sighed, feeling exhausted. "Any wound that doesn''t outright kill me will eventually heal."


    "I know what titled means. I''ve met some before. Did your family make a deal with an immortal?"


    Refenial leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes stinging with exhaustion. "no, I''ve never met an immortal. Honestly, other than hearing people mention them from time to time, I''m not even sure what immortals are like."


    "So you got your title from an artefact, then?"


    Refenial gave an exhausted shake of his head.


    "You got titled, and it wasn''t from an immortal or an artefact."


    "Yes, I take it that isn''t normal?"


    She shrugged. "Not that I know of. Perhaps that is how things are done here. How did you get your title?"


    Refenial stared vacantly at the opposite wall as he considered how to answer that question. After several moments of silence, Nia seemed to decide he wouldn''t answer and moved the conversation on. "The horrible noise you made, it felt like my head was going to explode. Was that something from your title?"


    Refenial shook his head. "No, that''s the whistle. It has a spell form carved into it."


    He looked at her consideringly for a few moments. "What about your sti-, er, I mean weapon?"


    "Oh, that. My people have a type of magic. It allows us to make magical items. I''ve heard of artefacts with spell forms carved into them. This is different. It''s easier to make them, so mortals can do it."


    "So you can open your soul''s eyes?"


    "Yes, as far as I know, all magic except systemic magic requires being able to open the eyes."


    Refenial took out his whistle and looked at it thoughtfully, turning it over in his hand.


    "Your family must be fabulously wealthy to give such a rare artefact to a child."


    Refenial shrugged, feeling like Nia was trying to bait him into explaining more.


    He failed to fight off a yawn.


    Nia stood up, "You''re tired. Sleep so you can heal."


    "You can have the bed. Give me some blankets, and I''ll sleep here." He said, leaning his head to the side in demonstration.


    "Again, that is sweet, but I''m not going to steal the bed of an injured child. You are injured, this is your room, and I already owe you enough. I will take the blankets and sleep on the floor." Nia said, already carrying through on the plan as she said it.


    With great effort, Refenial stood before flopping down onto the bed, gently kicking off his clogs as he lay there too tired to get into bed properly.


    Sleep quickly found him, and in his dreams, he was, as always, back at the ruins on the stone altar.

 Chapter 16 -Stench specialist-

    Refenial woke to a loud knocking at his door. He tensed, looking around. Dawn was just starting to rise through murky clouds outside. Nia looked up from the floor at him, a slightly panicked look on her face. He wasn''t sure if he would be in trouble for bringing an extra guest without paying. "Hide," he whispered to her.


    The girl snaked under the bed, taking her blankets with her as she did.


    There was another polite but forceful knock at the door.


    Refenial started to stand. His arm and ribs still hurt, but they''d already eased to a dull ache. Dried blood flaked off his skin as he moved. He wasn''t sure how to feel about the fact it wasn''t his blood.


    "Wh-" he choked slightly, his mouth uncomfortably dry."Who is it?" He called out.


    "It''s Harlin. I''m the gentleman you spoke to yesterday. Please come to the door." The voice called through.


    Refenial looked down at himself. His bruises had faded to a dirty yellow. More concerning was the blood stains that covered his clothes. He thought back to killing those men, a wave of nausea flooding over him. With a mental effort, he pushed the thoughts away for later.


    "Uh, I''m a little busy." He said, hoping the man would go away, at least long enough for him to hide the blood.


    "Young master, there is a trail of blood leading up to your room. I must insist you open the door, or I will be forced to open it myself." The man said in his polite but determined tone.


    Refenial couldn''t see a way around this, so he walked to the door and slowly opened it. The man gave a sharp intake of breath as he saw Refenial standing there covered in blood.


    "W- ,uh, I was attacked by muggers last night. I managed to get away, though."


    "That is a lot of blood. I''ll send for a doctor immediately." The man said with finality.


    Refenial looked down at himself. "It''s not mine. At least, most of it isn''t."


    "I... see." The old man said, giving him a hard stare. "I heard rumours this morning that three known criminals were found stabbed to death out on the street late last night?"


    Refenial looked at the man, uncertain of what to say.


    The man sighed. "The men were unpopular. It would take more than their death for the town council to send out guards. They may have had friends and family that will take matters into their own hands, though. I recommend that you leave town today just to be on the safe side."


    Refenial nodded. "Thank you."


    "I will arrange another bath for you. It will take a little time, unfortunately, since most of the servants haven''t arrived yet. In the meantime, I will arrange some breakfast for you and your young lady friend under the bed."


    Refenial looked around guiltily, knowing he''d been caught on that too but was confused about how the old man could tell since, as far as he could see, Nia was still well hidden.


    "The tailor will be back with your clothes soon, and in the meantime, I suggest you plan where you wish to travel to."


    The man departed. Refenial closed the door sitting back on the bed.


    "he saw you." He called out softly to Nia.


    "No way, I hid for months from those sailors." came her muffled voice from under the bed.


    "Also, we need to leave town today."


    "Because he saw me?" she said as she poked her head out from under the bed.


    "No, because I-I-. Because of last night."


    "Oh." She said softly.


    "Yeah." He sighed.


    "Where are we going then?"


    "You want to come with me? You don''t need to pay me back the money from yesterday if that''s what you''re worried about."


    Nia seemed to think for several moments before answering, "I left my home. I travelled here far away. I did it all because I wanted..." She paused for a moment longer. "I wanted an adventure.


    When we met, you kept avoiding my questions, and I thought you were a little rich boy throwing money around and trying to seem mysterious. I mean, you are a little rich boy," she laughed.


    "but I think there are some weird things going on with you. Maybe if I travel with you for a bit, I''ll get my adventure."


    Refenial chuckled. "You think I''m rich?"


    "I saw the coin purse."


    Before the conversation could continue, there was a knocking at the door. Food had arrived.


    Only a few hours had passed, and Refenial and Nia sat on the bed. Both were clean from the blood and grime of the streets.


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    Refenial kept glancing down at his clothes as the bright reds and yellows caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Apparently, colourful clothes like this were all the rage among boys his age of a certain station. He wasn''t entirely convinced but couldn''t deny how comfortable they were or the skill with which the tailor had made them. He also knew it would likely help with his title.


    His new outfit also came with a belt that held two large pouches that had been firmly affixed to the front. Lastly, he''d been supplied with a simple leather rucksack.


    Harlin had also brought Nia a set of clothes. They were much plainer than his but better suited to the harshness of winter than her own clothes.


    The old man, Harlin, stood in front of them. "Have you decided where you''re going?"


    "No, Neither of us knows where we can go. We don''t even know what this town is called?" Refenial admitted.


    The old man''s face twitched slightly, but he remained professional. "You are in the town of Oldspire. If I might ask, do you have any friends or family that might be willing to take you in?"


    Refenial thought about the offer from Griselda to live with her, and then he considered the letter of recommendation from Hecate for the academy. He trusted neither woman. Taking up their offers would risk being used as a pawn in their competing schemes.


    He shook his head. He wanted strength but not from either of them. Nia had said she made her weapon. Maybe he could learn something from her. That, at least, was a start.


    "Well then, there is a trade caravan leaving eastward today. It passes through several towns, and if you both are willing to pull your weight, you might be able to find work with them. Alternatively, you could ask around the docks and see if any of the ships are departing today."


    He translated for Nia.


    "I''m sick of ships. If we are to travel, the caravan sounds like the best option." She said after the explanation.


    "We''ll try the caravan." He told Harlin.


    "Then I recommend you go now. They will probably leave soon. I''ll have one of the servants show you the way."


    They left through the, once again, busy streets and soon found themselves standing in an ample cobbled space just inside the town''s gate. The lady who had led them here quickly said goodbye and left them.


    Refenial looked at the courtyard. About twenty wagons sat spread across it. Some had cloth or wood tops, but a few lacked covers. Men and women with serious expressions worked diligently, their footsteps crunching on the snowy ground as they checked the animals, stowed and organized.


    Refenial approached one of the men, Nia trailing behind uncertainly. He was a portly man, hairy in the extreme. He was wearing layer upon layer of furs, increasing the feeling of size the man gave off even further.


    "Excuse me?" Refenial said to get the man''s attention. The man turned and glanced over at Refenial and Nia, his gaze lingering on Nia.


    "Waddya want?" he asked.


    "We want to travel with the caravan. We''d work for our place."


    The man glanced back at Nia. "Nope, I don''t need any help. I don''t think anyone in the caravan does."


    "Oh, okay," Refenial said, drooping slightly at such a blunt refusal.


    Refenial refused to give in, though. He asked at one caravan after another, each caravan giving similar refusals until only one caravan remained.


    He''d left this open-top wagon to last. Even in the open sewer stench of the city, it stank. The other wagons had purposely given the wagon a wide birth, and people walked around it in a wide arc rather than walking close.


    "Ugh, I think I might be sick," Nia said queasily as they approached it.


    Sitting atop the caravan was a weak-chinned blond man who looked to be in his late teens to early twenties. He was thin but dressed neatly in blue and grey clothes that stood out as unusually clean and fashionable compared to the rest of the caravan. He was lounging on his wagon''s seat, slowly eating a piece of jerky. As they approached, he smiled at them and placed the jerky hanging out of his mouth before standing on the seat and looking down at them.


    "Hi, we want to travel with the caravan. We''ll work for our keep." Refenial said flatly as he tried to avoid breathing through his nose.


    He looked at Nia as he munched happily on the jerky. "I''d be happy for the help, but only if your friend can keep down their breakfast."


    Refenial turned to look at Nia. She looked extremely queasy. "Nia, if he thinks you''ll be sick, he won''t take us, and he''s the last caravan."


    Nia said nothing as she tried to regain composure but gave Refenial a murderous look.


    Refenial turned to the young man, curiosity getting the better of him. "Why does your caravan smell so bad?"


    The young man grinned proudly. "Tanning supplies mostly, though I carry a few other choice goods that no one else will. You can make an absolute killing carrying goods that no one else will touch."


    "Oh?"


    The man jumped down from the caravan as he spoke, "Take the corpse flower as an example. Smells like someone left a dead body in a metal box in the hot sun for a week. Alchemists will pay whatever you charge for it since no one will go near the stuff. I carry some other milder stuff for them too, like sulfur, sea monster vomit, and a fungus called dead man''s toes."


    "Is your friend alright now? She''s very quiet."


    Refenial glanced at Nia, who had a air of forced composure.


    "She doesn''t speak our language. I''m translating for her."


    "Forgive me. I should have guessed." He said before holding out his hand for Refenial to shake.


    Refenial looked down at the hand cautiously.


    "While the cart may smell bad, I do keep it very clean. I also bathe frequently myself, although the smell does linger." The young man said cheerfully.


    Refenial took the man''s hand and shook it.


    "I''m Nox. You and your pretty friend are?"


    I''m Refenial, and this is Nia."


    Nia elbowed Refenial, "What did you say? You stopped translating, and I heard my name."


    "He says he''ll take us, and his name is Nox."


    "I''ll provide food, and of course, you will have the safety of travelling with the trade caravan. In exchange, you two will tend my horse, keep the cart clean and set up and take down camp. That is the standard deal." He glanced at the knife at Nia''s hip. "Of course, if you kill any monsters or bandits attacking the caravan, you will also be rewarded. Not that that''s likely. This route is one of the safest."


    Refenial translated the deal, and both he and Nia agreed.


    Soon the trade caravan was on the road. Nox''s caravan was relegated to the rear of the convoy as the other merchants flatly demanded that he be downwind.


    Outside, the city was flat and bleak. It was farmland for miles, only broken by low hedges, occasional distant farmhouses and rare trees. The snow further flattened everything making the whole place look like an eternal plane.


    The road was paved, well-maintained, and free from snow. Nox explained that this, like other major roads in the kingdom, was kept snow free due to a deal with a powerful immortal, although the details were a state secret.


    The cart itself only had room to sit two. Nia wanted to take the first turn walking beside it, so Refenial and Nox sat quietly as the cart trundled along. Every now and then, Refenial noticed merchants and their assistants in the carts ahead glancing back with disgust at them.


    "They don''t seem to like us much," Refenial said.


    "No, they didn''t like me much before. They like me less now I took you two on, well, Nia, at least." He said, glancing across at the girl.


    "What''s their problem with her, that she''s a foreigner?"


    "Sort of. There are a few foreign sailors that come to port that the merchants know. People learn a little about their cultures and customs and what makes them tick. Nia, I''ve never seen a person with skin that dark before, and I doubt anyone else here has either. Her people, her culture, her country, they''re all unknowns. You''re still a child, Refenial, people here, they''ve seen a lot, especially on the open road. Adults quickly learn that there is nothing scarier than the unknown; the unknown when out here usually means loss or death."


    Refenial looked at Nox, who was staring off into the distance. "You sound like you agree with them. Then why did you hire us?"


    Nox stared out silently for a moment before looking back at Refenial with a goofy look "Well, she has a pretty face."


    Refenial looked at Nox. He doubted that was the real reason. He thought for a moment longer as Nox stared over at Nia. Okay, he doubted that was the only reason.

 Chapter 17 -The Ravenous Mother-

    The day passed slowly for Refenial, with few landmarks on the wintery path.


    Nia and Refenial took turns in the cart. For a time, they even both walked side by side, Nia telling Refenial about her homeland in exchange for him starting to teach her a few words in Frullian, the language spoken here.


    He found it fascinating. It sounded very different from here. He was surprised that many of the things she talked about, like cheetahs and hippos, were things he already knew of, though he couldn''t say how.


    As the sun retreated from the sky, the caravan made camp beside the road a few yards away from one of the rare trees. Nox went over what he expected the pair to do as they set up camp. Nia had taken care of horses before and quickly took charge of that, leaving Refenial to set up the fire and start cooking. The rest of the caravan set up a communal campfire a little away. But close enough not to negate the defensive value of camping together.


    "If they hate us so much, why do you travel with the caravan?" Refenial asked as he gently stirred the pot on the fire. Nox smiled. "There''s safety in numbers. If you''re worried, don''t be. Merchant caravans follow a strict code of conduct. They don''t like us, but if any of them lifted a finger against us, it''d get around quickly, and they''d be refused into all other trade caravans."


    Refenial looked over as he saw Nia coming back from tending to the horse.


    "That smells delicious, Refenial. You''re like an old housewife." She said with a mischievous grin.


    Refenial wasn''t sure he liked the comparison but let it drop. "It''s nearly ready."


    "Good," she said, sitting down on the stool left for her by the fire.


    Nox sharply turned his head, looking at the lonely tree. Refenial followed his gaze. In the bare tree, a single crow was sitting, staring down at them. No, staring down at Refenial.


    With an explosion of movement, Nox picked up a stick from near the fire and threw it at the bird.


    The bird leapt into the air, circling around before landing again in the tree. Nox began reaching down for another stick but stopped as Nia grabbed his arm.


    "No! You''ll anger the Ravenous Mother." Nia said to him in her native tongue.


    Nox stared angrily back at Nia, "They''re filthy creatures." He said back to her in his language.


    Refenial looked between the pair as they stared angrily at each other.


    "Calm down." He said to one, then the other. Both looked at him, their anger turning to him.


    "Explain, and I''ll translate," He told them.


    Nox talked first, "They''re horrible creatures, filthy things."


    As Nia heard Refenial''s translation, she nodded. "Yes, but they are the children of the Ravenous Mother. To harm them is to invoke her wrath. To do what you did back home carries a penalty of death."


    As Refenial translated her words, he got a sinking feeling as he began to suspect who Nia was talking about.


    Nox also seemed thrown off kilter by her words. "I ah, um. that is." The young man spluttered. At last, he hung his head. "Fine. At least let go of my arm so I can sit down then."


    As Refenial translated, Nia let go of his arm suddenly as if she''d just remembered she was holding it. Nox sat down huffily, folding his arms as he shot sidelong glances at the bird. Nia sat back down as well, but she was alert, carefully watching it as it stared at them.


    "Who is the Ravenous Mother?" Refenial asked her.


    "What? Oh. The land my people now live in once belonged to another. Much has been forgotten, but the stories tell that a terrible monster came from across the sea. She, the Ravenous Mother, led an army of crows. Each crow was her beloved child. Her army swept across the land, killing everyone and eating them. People died by the thousands as whole cities disappeared overnight as the black tide swept across their land."


    "How did they stop her?"


    "They didn''t. That is why my people now live there. It is said that once the last family was eaten, she disappeared along with her army of crows. Now no one will harm a crow in case she sees her children cry out in pain and returns once more."


    Refenial considered the story. The comparisons to Griselda felt natural. He considered telling them about her but held back. Considering the fear they both showed to the crows, he didn''t think that conversation would end well.


    The evening passed in silence as the crow sat there on the tree, unnerving Nia and irritating Nox more and more as time went on.


    Eventually, they fell asleep with others from the caravan taking watch in case of monsters.


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    Refenial was the first to wake of the three. As he moved in his bedroll, he noticed a scroll sitting by his head, sealed with white wax, a symbol of a crow sitting on a skull pressed upon it.


    He looked around. A few of the other caravaneers had begun to potter around, but none were paying him any attention, and his companions were still asleep.


    He gently opened the scroll to read it.


    To my dearest Refenial Crowchild,


    I was saddened to hear that you were attacked by those vile men. Only their death stops me from punishing them on your behalf.


    I hope you see now how dangerous the world can truly be. While I commend your sense of independence and adventure, I implore and beg you to come home to Obit and me.


    You are a child and not yet ready for the dangers of the world. If you do insist on carrying on like this, please remember the bell. Anything you need, great or small and my crows will provide for you.


    Obit misses you desperately, I keep telling him you haven''t forgotten him, but if you don''t come home soon, I fear he may no longer believe me on that.


    I want also to warn you not to trust your new friend. Their kind are all liars, thieves, criminals and worse things that I do not wish to mention.


    Nia, on the other hand, seems like a sweet girl. I look forward to meeting her soon. I am sure we will have many interesting conversations.


    With Much love,


    Griselda the Crow Queen, and Obit


    Refenial re-read the scroll several times before folding it away into his bag.


    While the words sounded kind, the phrasing and over-familiarity made Refenial feel uncomfortable in a way he couldn''t quite define. He hoped Obit was doing well. He knew he couldn''t yet do anything to help his friend even if he wasn''t.


    The warning about a friend, he assumed, was a reference to Nox. Although he wasn''t sure what she meant by ''their kind''. The young man seemed like a normal, if slightly eccentric, person. He guessed she meant merchants, but that didn''t feel quite right.


    What concerned him more was the mention of her meeting Nia soon. Was she going to take her away like she''d taken Obit? Would she follow him around, snatching up every friend he made and whisking them away until he agreed to go live with her? How would Nia react to meeting her if Griselda was the Ravenous Mother, as he suspected? Would Nia hate him for being associated with her?


    Questions and uncertainties whirled around his head as he considered it all.


    He was getting nowhere, so he decided to push that problem aside and focus on something different. With a moment of focus, he brought up his status.


    [


    Name: Refenial Crowchild


    Age: 10/??/#non-interger error#


    Title: Pied Piper


    Rank: 2


    Stats


    Fate: 0


    Charm: 0


    Mana: 0


    Reason: 0


    Cunning: 0


    Resilience: 0


    Agility: 1


    Power: 1


    Free points: 0


    Skills:


    Music (0)


    Powers:


    Entrancing sound (0)


    ]


    He looked through it, reading it properly for the first time since reaching rank two. The system seemed like a powerful tool. He needed to learn how to use it if he wanted to grow strong.


    He noticed that he''d gained a new skill. From what Hecate had said, it wouldn''t actually do anything until he got his first rank in it, but in time, his new music skill would help him play the whistle in his bag and hopefully get his power, ''entrancing sound'' to rank one.


    He needed more ranks as well. He thought back to his only rank up so far. He''d been dressed in multicolour clothing and had played his whistle, if you could call screeching out one note to get everyone''s attention playing it. Ranking up could be as simple as that, but he doubted it. Besides, how many problems can be solved by playing a musical instrument, especially when you don''t know the first thing about music.


    He''d have to learn, the skills and stats would help, but they only multiplied your already existing ability, and his musical ability was currently non-existent, so he doubted the skill would help much yet, even if he did level it somehow.


    He noticed his companions were starting to stir, so He got up and began with the morning''s tasks.


    Once the caravan was underway, Refenial tried to practice his whistle while he walked, but the harsh sounds drew even more unhappy glances from the caravan, and Nox gave him a worried look gesturing that he should stop.


    The days soon rolled on, soon one day gave way to another, then another as the flatland gave way to hills, then scrubland. Now as they sat camped, a large forest sat ahead of them, looming in the distance.


    Nia was sat on a log, her eyes closed. Her stick, a wand he''d found after asking her yesterday, rested across her lap.


    "What are you doing, Nia?" Refenial asked, sitting across from her.


    "I''m trying to concentrate, Reffy." She shot back. For the last day and a half, she''d been shortening his name to ''Reffy''. She''d said it once as a joke, and he''d made the mistake of showing his irritation. Since then, the name had stuck, and she overused it in every conversation since.


    He tried a different tactic. He closed his eyes and opened his soul''s eyes, and looked across at Nia with them.The motes of mana around her were moving strangely. When mana was grabbed, it was sucked into the soul or into a spellform if connected. It looked like a sucking wind pulling up all the mana in its path. What was happening around Nia was different. Mana drifted around passively, but every now and then, a mote would collide with her wand, and then sometimes, it would completely vanish. Other times it would drift away again after a moment dimmer than before.


    He watched for a while until Nia''s soul eyes glanced across at him, and she saw his eyes looking back. She gave a small scream of surprise and half stood tripping backwards over her log.


    "Damn it, Reffy, I forgot you could do that." She said, standing up in a huff.


    "What were you doing with the mana and your wand?"


    "It''s a common technique among people of my country. It''s how we enchant."


    "Is it like a spellform?"


    Nia laughed. "Only immortals and the craziest of sorcerers even attempt spellforms. Who''s been filling your head with nonsense, little Reffy."


    Refenial ignored the rise. "So how do you do it then?"


    "It''s simple but hard to do. You fill the object with intent. Then you wait for mana to hit it and reinforce your intent. If you do it once, nothing happens, but after thousands of times, the mana slowly builds up with your intent. Eventually, it becomes the magical item you want."


    "Can you teach me?" Refenial asked excitedly.


    Nia looked a little uncertain. "Maybe someday. But this isn''t a power to be gifted lightly to a child."


    "You know you''re only a few years older than me, right?"


    Nia gave him a withering look. "I''m sixteen, an adult, and you''re what? Eight, nine years old?"


    "Ten, according to my status," Refenial said, deciding to leave out the other ages listed.


    "Right, that''s another thing. Who bought you a title? Who taught you to open your soul''s eyes? Why do you have so much money and a magic whistle? Why do you avoid the subject or say it''s complicated every time I ask about your past?"


    "It''s compli-" Refenial started to retort before catching himself.


    Nia nodded in victory. "You seem like a nice kid, Reffy. Perhaps you should show me some more trust before you start asking me to divulge my secrets."


    Nia closed her eyes and resumed her work, signalling the end of the conversation.

 Chapter 018 -He who hungers-

    Nia sat calmly on the wagon as Reffy sat next to her. Nox walked alongside, seemingly wanting to stretch his legs for a change. She looked down at the young boy who sat next to her. He was often silent, but he''d barely said a word since they''d entered the forest. He looked around, flinching every time a bird took flight or a branch crunched.


    "You alright, Reffy?" She asked.


    "Yeah, I- it''s just I had a bad experience in a forest once with a monster."


    He''d opened up a little since their conversation last night but still seemed to want to avoid talking too specifically about his past. She had a theory, though. With his fat coin purse, a naive understanding of how things worked in the real world and a title, something usually only reserved for the most influential in society, he was clearly a runaway noble. She could just imagine it now, Reffy, haughtily ringing a silver bell as servants came running to see to his every need.


    She smiled momentarily at the silly thought.


    She couldn''t fault him for that. Perhaps his father was abusive. If they''d gone on a bad hunting trip, it''d explain why he was so jumpy in the forest.


    The boy''s head shot around as a sound of cracking wood came from nearby. Nia put her hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "It was probably just a wild animal or minor monster, nothing that''d attack a caravan this size."


    The boy nodded but seemed unconvinced.


    Definitely a bad hunting trip, she decided.


    The caravans ahead of her came to a halt, and she gently pulled on the reins stopping the cart''s horse. This had happened occasionally as the procession travelled, perhaps something had fallen off a wagon ahead, or there was some other minor problem stopping the advance. A few moments of silence passed then Reffy and Nox exchanged words. She hadn''t learned enough to understand what they were saying, but she heard the tone of concern in their voices.


    "Is something wrong?" She asked.


    "Nox said he could see further to the side and that there''s a log blocking the road. He has a bad feeling, and so do I." Reffy replied.


    More concerned now, she started looking around the forest. With the leaves taken by winter, it looked desolate, far from the best place for an ambush if that was what was happening. She could see several people up ahead had gotten out of their caravans and were talking at the front of the wagon train, presumably about how to move the log. After several moments she relaxed. If this was an ambush, they''d have surely struck already.


    Just as that thought crossed her mind, there was a thunk as an arrow smashed into the wood of the cart, missing her leg by a hair''s breadth.


    Nia looked down for a split second before grabbing Reffy and diving off the cart. She landed on the stone-paved road with a thud that ached through her bones.


    She could hear the bandits, a lot of them, on the far side of the wagon yelling something out in angry, demanding tones. Nox was next to her, ducked down behind the cart. He spoke to Reffy in his language, quickly and fast.


    Nia pulled herself up, noticing Reffy doing the same as he talked to Nox.


    The bandits were yelling something out again, and she noticed several merchants further down the train getting up and running away from it into the woods and away from the bandits. Risking a glance around the wagon, there were close to 50 bandits armed with bows and arrows. They''d sprung from holes hidden in the snow. They looked well-armed and spoiling for a fight.


    "The bandits are saying that anyone who flees may live," Reffy said, translating the bandit''s cries.


    Nox said something, pointing at the forest behind them, then looked sadly at his wagon. "There are too many to fight. These roads are usually bandit free, so no one took guards. We need to retreat. They probably won''t search my cart too much, not with the smell," Reffy translated for Nox.


    A merchant stood defiantly. Nia recognized him as the fat man in furs that had given her dirty looks when they''d first tried to find a position in the caravan. He started yelling at the people around him, seemingly trying to rally them to fight. Several of the other merchants looked up hopefully at the man and seemed ready to join him until another arrow flew through the air, ripping out a chunk of his throat and leaving him gasping on the ground in a rapidly growing pool of blood.


    Nia looked away; she''d seen entirely too much blood recently. She shivered, remembering the vacant look on Reffy''s face as he''d stabbed the muggers. Looking across, she saw Reffy staring at the merchant struggling on the ground, trying to breathe one last wet breath. Reffy had a strange haunted look on his face, like a small hunted animal that was about to remind a predator of how fiercely a cornered animal could fight.


    She slapped him lightly around the top of his head, trying to break his train of thought before he did anything stupid.


    "We''ll run." Nia told him.


    The three bolted into the forest in the opposite direction to the bandit''s attack. As she ran, Nia expected to feel an arrow in her back at any moment. No arrow came, and after a little while, the three slowed breathless.


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    "That was awful. We didn''t even put up a fight." She said.


    Reffy nodded.


    The trio decided to wait til nightfall and return to the wagons to see what they could salvage. They sat in the wintery forest, cold and bored as time passed. Reffy seemed even jumpier now. Every rustle of a bird or wind sent him glancing around nervously.


    "Perhaps it would help to share?" She suggested.


    Reffy sighed defeatedly. "Fine, since you keep asking. I was in the forest with some other kids, and a monster attacked."


    Nia nodded. That was pretty normal. Monster attacks were common but usually simple enough for even a child to deal with. Perhaps his inexperience as a noble''s child had made it more traumatic, or maybe none of the children had known how to deal with it.


    "And?" She pried when she realized he wasn''t going to elaborate further.


    "And, it killed another boy in my group. Nearly killed me too. I remem- it-." The boy lapsed into silence.


    Nia wasn''t sure what to say. That had been a much worse story than she''d been expecting. She felt guilty now for dragging it out of him. She patted him on his head after a moment. "Don''t worry. If any monsters come along, I''ll protect you." She forced a smile as she said that, focusing very hard on not thinking about his vacant eyes that night.


    Nox tensed and said something. Reffy sniffed the air in response. Nia was about to ask what they were talking about, but before she did, she smelt something. It was awful and easily worse than Nox''s cart.


    Nox''s eyes suddenly went wide, and he yelled something and started to run back towards where they had left the caravans.


    Reffy looked back at Nia as she started to chase after Nox. "He said the smell is his wagon on fire."


    The three raced back. The scene was disastrous. The whole caravan train was on fire.


    The bodies of the merchants that had chosen to fight quickly tossed upon them.


    Other merchants had reached here first. Some were futilely trying to put out their carts, others sat weeping alone and in groups at the loss of friends or their livelihoods. Nia stared around. The scene felt unreal to her. She hadn''t particularly liked many of these people. She saw the suspicious and hostile looks they gave her. To see them brought to ruin like this felt needlessly harsh.


    She looked over and saw Nox futilely trying to grab something out of his cart.


    He tried to reach in, yelling, and she didn''t need to know his language to know that he was screaming obscenities as he was burned by the heat and flames. He tried again before Reffy grabbed the man''s arm to stop him. In a surprising feat of strength, nox lifted his arm Reffy dangling from it and shook it vigorously, but the boy stubbornly hung on.


    There was a crashing noise as Nox''s cart collapsed to the side, a wheel finally giving out to the devouring flame. The young man seemed to give in, accepting the reality of the situation as he lowered Reffy, his body language that of a defeated man.


    After a few moments, the pair returned and began to talk, Reffy translating where needed.


    "I didn''t think they''d torch my wagon," Nox said in near tears.


    "What do we do now?" Nia asked.


    Nox gave her a tired look before responding, "We go back towards Oldspire. I think it''s fair to say the caravan is no more, so I doubt anyone else here will want to travel with us now. Monsters might be a problem."


    "Me and Nia, well, I''m not sure if it''s a good idea to go back there. We might have made enemies before we left." Refenial told him.


    Nox nodded. "The other option is to carry on to Waterhill. That''d be the next stop the caravan would have taken. It''s about the same distance. I have a problem, though." He looked around at the merchants milling around. "It''s not something that can be discussed here."


    Reffy and Nia followed the Nox further up the path until they were well out of earshot of the other merchants.


    Nox turned to them, licking his lips nervously. "You see, my family was put under a curse long ago." Reffy translated Nox''s words as he spoke.


    Nox continued, "We need a special, uh, thing. Otherwise, we have problems. All my supply of the ''special thing'' was in the wagon."


    "What do you need? Perhaps we can get some for you?" Reffy asked.


    Nox looked even more uncomfortable at the suggestion. "I-ah-uh, fuck it. I''m a ghoul." Nox took a half step back as if he expected to attack them at the revelation.


    Reffy translated as he shared a confused look with Nia.


    "What''s a ghoul?" she asked.


    "Haha," Nox laughed awkwardly. "Wow, you guys really don''t know. Well, you see, my family was cursed a long time ago. It gives us some useful abilities. The problem is we have to eat a particular meat regularly. Otherwise, we start looking like monsters."


    "What, like, monster meat?" Nia asked suspiciously.


    Reffy shook his head, his face serious "I don''t think that''s what he''s talking about."


    "No... human," Nox said while looking away.


    As soon as Reffy translated, Nia retched a little as she remembered her daydreams of kissing him only this morning. Nox gave her a look that was cross between shame and hurt. And she felt guilty again.


    "Do you kill people?" Reffy asked, his hand slowly reaching for his bag.


    Nox waved his hands desperately in the air. "No! No! Not at all. I only eat those who''re already dead. I buy only those who are already dead. I sell them to others of my kind so none of us have to hurt people, so other people can''t tell what we are."


    "So, in your wagon?" Nia asked, afraid of the answer.


    Nox nodded guiltily. "Yes, I had everything I said. It puts people off from looking too closely, but I was also transporting jerky. And some salt-packed."


    "You buy the bodies?" Reffy asked.


    "Yes, a lot of undertakers are either my kin or work with them. They''re all people who died without us. For example, there were three men who died in a knife fight down by the docks the night before we left."


    Nia''s head spun, and she felt like she was going to be sick. Those three men had to have been the ones Reffy killed. If things had gone differently, would this ghoul be eating her right now? She dry heaved, bending over, ready to vomit. Reffy gently put his hand on her back.


    "Are you okay?" He asked, his concerned face visible out of the corner of her eye.


    She heaved twice more before she was able to calm her stomach enough to nod.


    She looked over at Reffy, surprised at how calm he was acting. With a sudden realization, she remembered that Nox had wanted to go away from people before having this conversation.


    "Reffy, what do we do? We''re alone in the woods, and he eats people."


    He didn''t translate her words this time, instead responding to her, "Look at him, Nia. He''s terrified. If he was going to try and eat us, he''d have already tried."


    "What about when he gets hungry and tries to eat us as a snack on the way to the next town?"


    Reffy was silent for a minute before looking her in the eyes. An erie dead calm on his face. "I don''t think he will, but if he tries, I''ll kill him."

 Chapter 19 -The Crimson Queen-

    "What about when he gets hungry and tries to eat us as a snack on the way to the next town?" Nia asked him, still bent double from dry heaving, a terrified look on her face.


    Refenial stood looking at the surrounding forest. What would he do? What would he do in a forest once more with a monster that wanted to eat him. He looked back at the girl. "I don''t think he will, but if he tries, I''ll kill him," he said, trying to reassure her. From the look on her face, he wasn''t sure if it worked.


    "What are you saying?" Nox asked nervously


    Refenial turned to look at him. "You mean us no harm?"


    Nox shook his head. "No, absolutely not. I''m still the same person you were travelling with the last few days, the one that hired you two when everyone else turned you away."


    "You said you''d look like a monster before we get to town. What''s your plan when we arrive?"


    Nox seemed to relax a little as the conversation moved on to future plans. "There are more of my kin in the town. There''s at least a few in most towns. If you meet them, they can give you some meat for me."


    After Refenial finished translating, he nodded, "That''s fine by me."


    Nia still looked at him wearily with a sickly look, but she also agreed.


    Nox seemed to slowly return to his normal self as his nerves left him. "Shall we set off? It''s going to be a long walk."


    "What are we going to do to protect ourselves against monsters? Also, all our camping gear was in the caravan?" Refenial asked them both.


    "Perhaps use your whistle to scare off the monsters. The way you play, it sounds like someone trying to strangle a chicken." Nia quipped. Refenial gave her an unimpressed look, choosing not to translate.


    Nox spoke next, "You could play that whistle of yours. It sounded like someone trying to murder a banshee. If I was a monster, I''d run away." Refenial shared the look with Nox instead of translating, silently berating the pair.


    Both Nia and Nox were chuckling at his reaction.


    Nox straightened up after a moment. "I have pretty good survival experience, it won''t be fun, but it''ll only be a couple days if we push it." Refenial started translating again.


    "I also have survival experience, although not in this climate," Nia said.


    With that agreed, the trio set off. They were still following the road, so travel was quick as they walked through the forest.


    Refenial looked around, still uneasy. The forest, with its bare trees, and branches sticking out like a hundred thousand grasping fingers, all reaching for the blue of the sky, creeped him out now more than ever. He''d felt uneasy before entering the forest, memories brought unbidden by it, and now they''d been attacked. He felt even more unsettled by its icy stillness.


    As the afternoon wore on, Nox suddenly stopped. Refenial, who had been staring into the forest, slammed into his back, sending Nox hopping forward a couple of steps before he regained his footing. "What''s wrong?" he asked the man''s back.


    Nox pointed ahead of them, and refenial stepped to the side, following the man''s gesture with his vision. He was pointing to a huge tree in the distance. Much of it was obscured by the surrounding trees.


    "What''s going on?" Nia asked, her voice tense as she began reaching for her wand.


    "Something moved in the tree. I think it was a person." Nox hissed. Refenial strained his eyes as he stared at the tree. After a moment, he thought he saw a flash of movement.


    "There''s someone in the tree." He quietly told Nia.


    Nia squinted at the tree, then began to tiptoe forward down the road. Refenial wanted to call out to stop her but was worried it might alert the person in the tree. Nia crept a few feet forwards, looking at the tree for several moments before she snuck back.


    "It''s a woman, high up too, yellow hair. Maybe a bit older than Nox." She explained.


    "I''ve travelled this route a few times, single travellers are rare, usually titled, but I''ve seen them before." Nox opined once hearing the translation and stepped forward more relaxed.


    "I guess we''ll follow him," Refenial said to Nia.


    The trio walked forwards. Refenial glanced up at the woman in the tree as they approached.


    She seemed amused by their approach. Her pale young features were harsh. Her stare was intense and perhaps a little mad. She certainly wasn''t pretty, but Refenial supposed a generous person might have called her handsome. Her blonde hair was shoulder-length, and her clothes were black and severe but functional.


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    Refenial noticed with surprise that she didn''t seem to have a bag or be carrying any of the equipment you would expect of a lone traveller.


    He looked away anxiously at the floor as they began to pass. "Stop slouching, boy." She called out in a voice that, while no longer weighted with age, he instantly recognized.


    Refenial turned to look at her in shock, pulling himself up straighter as he did. "O-Old Mother Hecate?"


    "And stuttering now too? You disappoint me." She said with a cruel smile.


    Nox looked between the pair, "You know her?"


    "He should do. I named him," she said dismissively.


    "What''s going on?" Nia asked, so far left out of the conversation.


    "Oh, an enchanter. Not a very skilled one, though." Hecate said, speaking clearly in Nia''s language.


    Nia looked up at her in surprise.


    "Refenial, I told you I no longer go by that name." She paused, glancing between the trio. "Although, I guess there''s no harm."


    Nox looked confused. Now it was his turn to be left out. He leaned towards Refenial and whispered, "Is she your mother? Seems pretty young."


    She switched back to the native tongue of the land. "I''m here to have a conversation with Refenial. Knowing when to shut up is a useful skill in life that I suggest you start learning now." She finished in a menacing tone as she glared down at Nox.


    Nox went quiet.


    "Why are you here?" Refenial asked coldly.


    She sighed in response, "You retire for a few hundred years, and your power base goes to shit. All of the mortals that owed me favours are dead, most of the immortals that owe me favours pretend they don''t remember me and half the resources I stashed away have been nicked and sold two dozen times, so good luck trying to track those down."


    Nox''s eyes were wide with shock as she spoke. Nia, who was once more left out, stood quietly and uncertainly.


    Hecate continued, "So, now I''ve got to drag myself back and forth across the world, smacking sense into a bunch of idiots and tracking down who nicked what and taking it back again." She gave Refenial a sour look. "Then I check in on my apprentice, and what do I find? He''s heading in the wrong direction in the middle of nowhere in winter. Without even basic camping supplies with a flesh eater and an enchanter who clearly doesn''t know her magical arse from her magical elbow."


    "You killed Maxit," Refenial said, glaring at her.


    "Yes, I did, but I can see it in your eyes, boy. You''re still too angry at what I did to ask why I did." She glared back at him as she spoke.


    Three rucksacks apparated beside the tree. "I know you won''t thank me, but here is some more camping gear, and food, including flesh for your friend there. I thought you might be heading to the academy to train and get strong enough to save Obit, but it looks like you replaced him right quick enough." She said, gesturing at Nox and Nia.


    "You don''t care about Obit. You''re just saying this to use me as a weapon against Griselda."


    Hecate stood up, looking down at him. "Maybe, maybe not. The question is if you care more about Obit or your fear of not getting used by me?"


    Refenial let out a frustrated sound, too angry to reply.


    The Old Mother smiled slightly. "Thank you, Refenial, for saving my life in the ruins. I know you blame me for a lot, but we don''t need to be enemies. Once you''re ready to talk, I''ll explain why Maxit and the villagers died. Until then, remember I took no pleasure in their deaths."


    She turned as if about to go, then looked back at him. "And if you really are that determined to be my enemy, you''ll need every scrap of strength you can find, so go to the academy."


    She stepped forwards, dropping behind the back of the tree and out of sight.


    Refenial ran around the tree, looking for her, but she was gone.


    "What''s going on?" Nia asked, having missed most of the conversation due to the language barrier.


    "W-Who are you?" Nox asked, his face a complex mask of emotions.


    Refenial didn''t answer either one and carried on walking on the path. Nox and Nia exchanged glances, then rushed to catch up with him.


    "Hey! I told you my secret." Nox said angrily.


    Refenial said nothing as he kept walking, his mind a jumbled mess of emotions.


    "What''s happening, Reffy? Who was that woman?" Nia asked him gently.


    Refenial closed his eyes as he walked, fighting back tears.


    After several minutes of silence, Nox spoke, "I''m sorry. You don''t have to tell us if you don''t want to."


    Refenial nodded. "It''s fine. She''s Old Mother Hecate, though she has another name, too, Hildegard Crowchild. She took me in as her apprentice and taught me ma..." Refenial trailed off as he realized Nox had stopped walking. He turned to look at Nox. The young man had turned white as a sheet.


    Nia gave Nox a confused look before looking back to Refenial. "I think you broke him. What did you say?"


    Refenial shrugged uncertainly. "I was just telling him that she was Old Mother Hecate. Apparently, she''s also called Hildegard Crowchild. I was her apprentice. She''s the one who taught me magic."


    Nia''s brow wrinkled "Old Mother? She seemed young to me."


    "She was old when I met her, but..." Refenial lapsed into silence.


    "Hildegard Crowchild, as in the Hildegard Crowchild?" Nox asked finally.


    Refenial shrugged. "That''s the name she said."


    "bloody hell!" Nox exclaimed.


    "Do you know her?" Refenial asked.


    Nox looked at him wide-eyed as he spoke slowly, as if doubtful that the words even belonged in his mouth. "Hildegard Crowchild, the Hildegard Crowchild, founder of the Kingdom of Frull. Hildegard Crowchild, the Crimson Queen. Hildegard Crowchild, the immortal slayer. Hildegard Crowchild, the witch who could level cities on a whim. that Hildegard Crowchild?"


    Refenial remembered the devastation of the spell she''d used to destroy the village, the burning bright light, the mushroom cloud and the shockwave that slew a forest in a single blow. "I think so." He said somberly.


    "bloody hell," Nox said again, under his breath this time.


    "What do you know about her?" Refenial asked.


    Nox began to answer, Refenial translating for Nia as he did.


    "About 500 years ago, Frull was divided into a bunch of little kingdoms. Hildegard conquered them all and made herself queen. My dad used to talk about her. He''d say she was the best ruler we ever had. She outlawed slavery and said that even the highest noble had to follow the same laws as the lowest peasant. I went to a Systemic Order school; they hated her. Apparently, she drove them out of the country after they tried to work with a bunch of nobles to overthrow her."


    He gave a smile at that thought. "If they hated her, she can''t have been too bad."


    "Why is she called the Crimson Queen?" Refenial asked.


    "Oh," Nox paused for a minute thoughtfully "I can''t remember exactly but there were some nobles that got angry with her over something or other and tried to assassinate her together, I think a bunch were titled. There''s a famous line about it I learned in school ''a hundred nobles and one queen walked into the room, and only a Crimson Queen stepped out."


    The trio travelled on, talking about the history of the kingdom, but Nox didn''t know much else about Hecate, and Refenial didn''t want to share. Refenial helped Nia learn the language of the kingdom as much as he could during that time.


    The days soon passed, and they neared Waterhill.

 Chapter 20 -Loyal retainers-

    The trio walked along the wide, snow-free road towards the open iron-banded wooden gates set into the towering heavyset stone wall of Waterhill. Smoke from fires within the town spoke of lives being lived as it drifted away into the calm blue sky.


    The rest of the trip had been calm, peaceful even, for Refenial, once they''d left the sinister presence of the forest behind them. The only exception had been a short note that Refenial had woken to, a scroll, as always, sealed with a crow on a skull. It had simply stated that Griselda had dealt with the bandits but given no clue as to what that actually meant.


    Refenial looked at the gates as he approached. Guards stood on either side, their postures stiff despite their tired eyes. They watched with bored disinterest, seemingly unconcerned with the occasional passerby who came or left through the gate.


    Refenial carefully kept his face a mask of neutrality as they walked through the gates, his heart fluttering a little as he thought of the human meat he knew was stashed away in Nox''s bag.


    As they entered, Refenial looked around. The town''s bustling streets were similar in many ways to Oldspire, and unfortunately, that similarity included the squalid streets and a stench that made him want to only breathe through his mouth. There was one big difference in both the town itself and its smell, that being its lack of port. It lacked the drunken sailors as well as the hint of sea air mixed with rotting fish.


    Nox glanced over at Refenial, "I know a place we can stay, cheap." He said, putting emphasis on the last word.


    "Lead the way," Refenial replied, gesturing ahead.


    They passed through the maze-like warren of streets and alleyways. As they headed deeper into the town, the buildings became more worn and dingier, the lanes narrower, and the people rougher.


    Refenial saw street kids staring at them, passing entertainment to keep the children''s minds off their hunger. A man and a woman were screaming obscenities at each other, what sounded like only a street away. Passerbys in ragged, dirty clothes looked down as they walked by, not risking eye contact.


    "Are you sure about this?" Nia asked, looking around the streets, barely touched by the light of day, hidden among the tightly nestled buildings.


    Nox nodded at Refenial''s translation of her words and walked to an old door that looked like it hadn''t been painted in decades, the flaking paint revealing the numerous layers of faded colours beneath.


    Rap-tap-tap, Nox knocked smartly on the door, waiting several moments before knocking once more.


    As Refenial stood in the shadows of the houses around, he heard a soft sound from behind the door, the shuffling of feet on wooden floors and a few moments later, the door slowly swung open a crack.


    A wrinkled old man poked his head around the door. "Yes?"


    Nox waved at the man, who looked him up and down slowly. "Well, I guess you''ll be coming in."


    He slowly shuffled backwards as he opened the door.


    Nox entered first, and Refenial and Nia followed behind. They were in the first dingy room of a house. It smelt old, musty and maybe with a hint of mould. The shutters were still barred even though it was approaching noon.


    The old man shuffled through to a kitchen. He gestured they sit at a dusty table. "I''ll make some tea, and then we''ll talk."


    The trio sat silently at the table while the old man slowly pottered around the kitchen. Refenial opened his mouth to speak, but Nox vigorously shook his head in warning. An hour later, the painfully slow old man set the teapot on the table and gestured they should help themselves.


    The three each poured themselves a drink, and the old man sat down with a tired sigh.


    "Ahh, what brings you to my door, and with two children in tow?" The old man gave Nia a particularly focused stare as if he struggled to make her out clearly. "Neither seems our sort of folk."


    Nox sipped his drink and nodded. "They''re not. They both know I am what I am and are fine with it. It helped that neither even knew what a ghoul was."


    The old man slowly hit the table with amusement. "Is that so! Well, it''s nice to meet folk who aren''t so fast to judge."


    Nox sighed. "My cart got burned by bandits. I lost it all."


    The old man nodded. "How unfortunate. Do you know what you''ll do now?"


    Nox gave Refenial and Nia a thoughtful look. "My friends here are travelling, though I don''t think they know where too yet. I want to talk to them about it, but it is a sore subject for them."


    "Well, you and your friends are welcome to stay as long as you need. I do have a favour to ask, though."


    "Oh?" Nox asked.


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    "Do you remember Buin? I haven''t seen him in a few days, and he was visiting me every day before that. Do you mind checking in on him?"


    "Of course. Where will I find him?"


    "He''s been hanging out with one of the Order Keepers."


    "Fuck." Nox swore.


    "What''s an Order Keeper?" Refenial asked.


    Nox grimaced. "They''re the priests of the Systemic Order. When a ghoul gets discovered, they''re the ones that come in and kill them. Both you and Nia can do magic, right? Are either of you titled?"


    "I am," Refenial said, uncertain where this was going.


    Nox nodded. "Then you both want to keep away from them, especially you, Refenial. The law says any magic-user must be registered with them, especially titled. If they realise you''re unregistered, you''d have to register with them. They probably wouldn''t bother checking for Nia, but they keep a close eye on titled."


    "Uh, I take it that''s bad?"


    "Yes, the Order may draft any titled at any time to do their bidding. In reality, they only conscript titled that don''t have powerful backers. They don''t want to upset the nobles or king too much. Unless you want your Old Mother, having to come to bail you out, you''d be a perfect target for them."


    "So, will you look into it?" The old man asked.


    "Yes," Nox said with a reluctant sigh.


    They finished their tea in silence. Then the trio left for the small room the old man had offered them. It was cramped, barely big enough for the four rough and aged beds inside it. They each sat on one of the beds.


    Nox looked at Refenial, "I think now we''re here. We should talk about what we''re doing next."


    Refenial agreed and began translating again.


    "I know you don''t want to talk about the details, but whatever is going on with your friend Obit, I think you should let it go, Reffy," Nia said with concern. "You are still a child. If Hildegard is as powerful as you guys say, then the situation sounds much too dangerous for anyone, never mind you."


    Nox shook his head at the translation. "I think you should head for the academy like Hildegard suggested. It''s not fair that all this is being put on your shoulders, but at least there, you can get help and Nia and I can become your retainers."


    Refenial gave them both a sceptical look as he considered what they were saying. He didn''t want to run away, to abandon Obit, and he couldn''t anyway. He''d promised Alton to look after his son.


    The thought of going to the academy sat uneasily with him, and it felt like just giving into Hecate''s manipulation. Her words kept playing around again and again in his head. What mattered to him more, Obit or his fear of being used by her?


    As it twisted around again and again in his mind, he realised he didn''t understand something Nox had said.


    "What do you mean retainers?" he asked the ghoul.


    "The academy is famous. Hasn''t anyone explained to you how it works?"


    Refenial shook his head.


    "well, anyone whose titled can go there, of course. Most of its students are retainers, though. The second part of the school teaches retainers, a group of servants specialising in supporting titled."


    "You want us to be his servants?" Nia wrinkled her nose in disgust at the thought.


    Nox shrugged. "The academy has the best teachers in the country and pays its students to attend. Normally, the entry requirements are brutal, but if Refenial attended, he could get us in without taking the test as his retainers."


    "It sounds like you''re trying to help us, not Reffy," Nia said suspiciously.


    Nox looked at Refenial for support. "I don''t mean it like that, just if you are serious about getting strong, the academy has all the resources you need. It''ll also help me and Nia become more powerful, and it will line our pockets with enough money to not live like beggars when we leave. I''ve seen that coin purse around your neck. I''m not sure how much you have, but what will you do for food and money when it runs out? How can you become strong enough to rescue Obit from whoever''s got him if you''re spending twelve hours a day tending fields just to make a pittance that will barely sustain you."


    Refenial looked at the floor, realising the sense in Nox''s words.


    He looked up at Nia. "Would you come with me if I went to the academy?"


    Nia nodded. "Yes, but if you think you can order me around like a servant, you''ll not like what happens next."


    Refenial couldn''t help but chuckle at her words, which made her stare a warning stare at him.


    "I guess I''m going to the academy then." He told them.


    "Since we''ll be working together for a while and I''ve told you some of my secrets, will you tell me how you enchant your staff, please?" Refenial said to Nia with a hopeful grin.


    "You only told me a little, and only because someone made you." She said before relenting. "Fine. I suppose you are teaching me Frullian. But consider it me paying back the money I owe you."


    "Uh-huh," Refenial said excitedly.


    Nox stood up. "While you two are talking, I''m going to go see what happened to Buin."


    "I''m going to practice my whistle some more," Refenial replied.


    Nox grimaced. "Please do that outside the house, preferably far away from people. I''d rather not get kicked out and end up sleeping on the streets the first night we get back to civilisation."


    Refenial gave Nox a hurt look. "I''m not that bad," he said defensively.


    "Sure, sure, but maybe just humour me on this," Nox said with a slight smile.


    "Fine." Refenial decided to check his status before he started to see if it would give him clues about how to develop.


    His eyes only reached the second line before he noticed a surprise.


    "I''ve turned 11!" He said in surprise to Nox, then quickly repeated it to Nia.


    "How do you know? Does it say on your status?" She asked with an eager grin.


    Refenial nodded.


    "Happy birthday, Refenial," Nox said.


    "Was today your birthday? Did you check your status yesterday?" Nia asked him.


    Refenial thought back for a minute. He''d looked at his status yesterday. He hadn''t noticed a change, so he must have still been ten then.


    "I checked it yesterday. Today must be my birthday." Refenial told them both.


    "Do people celebrate birthdays in this country?" Nia asked eagerly.


    Refenial shrugged. "I think so. I think some of the villagers did back home."


    Nia gave him a sad look. "Didn''t you ever celebrate your birthday?"


    Refenial didn''t know how to answer that. This was his first birthday since waking up in the ruins. Maybe he had before then, but without his memory, he''d not know. He didn''t want to lie to Nia, but he also didn''t want to tell the truth. He settled instead for the time-tested phrase, "It''s complicated."


    Nia stood and grabbed him in a friendly headlock. "''It''s complicated, ''it''s complicated''. That''s all you ever say to me, little Reffy. ''It''s complicated''."


    Nox chuckled at their hijinx as Refenial squirmed, trying to get away.


    "Refenial, why don''t you go out and play your whistle? I want to talk to Nia for a moment." Nox said.


    Refenial looked up at Nox as Nia let him go. "Talk to her? She only knows about five words of Frullian."


    Nox smiled and struck a confident pose. "I''ll manage."


    Refenial stood. "Fine."


    "Just don''t get into trouble when your out and come back before nightfall. I''ll have a surprise for you." Nox added.


    Refenial said goodbye and left the house, stepping out onto the cold streets. He wandered for a while, taking in the town before he found himself at the town''s snowy green. He looked at it, reminding him of his bittersweet memories of the village and sitting there as he learned magic, Obit annoying Old Mother Hecate with his naive goodness. Those memories were all tainted now, tainted by the truth. Even as he''d sat there learning, he''d sat with a murderer, Hecate, the woman who''d murdered Maxit, the woman who would kill the village.


    The green was empty of people, so he decided here would be the best place to practice. He walked to its centre and pulled out his whistle. Running his hands across its fine patterned surface before bringing it to his lips and trying to play. Minutes passed as he fumbled with the instrument, trying to play a simple tune.

 Chapter 021 -The Morning sun-

    Refenial focused only on playing the metal whistle, trying to make anything that sounded like a tune, but the harsh screeching he accidentally produced every few notes killed any musical enjoyment his playing might have given. After a few moments, he lowered the whistle staring at it in frustration. He didn''t know how to play a musical instrument. He knew he was terrible at it, but what other option did he have? He didn''t have a book explaining how to play, and he didn''t have a teacher who could show him how. Hell, even back in the village, he''d only occasionally heard a villager playing a musical instrument.


    He wasn''t going to give in, he needed to get stronger, and his strength would come through his ability to hold a tune, so he was going to damn well make sure he could play.


    He raised the whistle to play again when he heard a deep and warm voice behind him, "Ho, child!"


    Refenial turned. A man in his late 30s was strolling through the snow behind him. The man was tall and muscular with strong features and curly blonde hair. A friendly smile on his lips. His flowing clothes stood out even more. They were white, a white so pure it stood out even set beside the fresh snow. They were trimmed with gold thread, and an ornate rising sun was carefully stitched across his chest. He held a shining golden lyre in his hand, and on his hip, he wore a gleaming sword with gems laid into its hilt.


    The man gave him a wide toothy grin. "I''m Elagabalus, the Morning Sun, though you may call me Ela or Morning Sun if you prefer."


    He approached Refenial, reaching out his hand with clear intent to shake hands.


    "I''m Refenial." He replied uncertainly, not raising his hand to shake.


    Elagabalus looked down at his unshook hand with a frown before lowering it.


    "Maybe you''ve heard of me before. I''m kind of a big deal?" Elagabalus said with a self-deprecating smile.


    Refenial shook his head.


    "Well, no matter," Elagabalus said, looking disappointed. "My Mother is in town wanting to visit some friend of the family, and I got bored, so I snuck off." He leaned towards Refenial and raised his hand to his mouth, whispering conspiratorially. "If she asks you, say you never saw me."


    He gave Refenial a wink and straightened up. "Anyway, I heard you playing and well..." He gestured to his lyre. "I thought I could give you some pointers."


    "Thanks, Ela," Refenial said cautiously, still unsure of the strange man but desperate for help.


    Elagabalus strummed thoughtfully on his lyre, producing a melodious sound. "Let me guess, you''re titled like me?" he asked.


    Refenial paused, but his awkward silence was enough to answer the question.


    "Of course, of course. I''m just some strange man who approached you and is now asking very personal questions." Elagabalus bowed his head slightly. "Forgive me for my rudeness. Like I said, I am titled. My title is ''Golden Liar''," he said, pointing and his lyre with a broad smile.


    "I''m struggling to learn. Could you give me some tips?" Refenial asked, deciding there was no harm in asking.


    "Why, of course, young Refenial, nothing could bring me more joy. And perhaps one day, when you know who I am, you will look back on this day that put you on the path to being a master of music."


    "Play, play for me, and I will endeavour to aid you to the best of my abilities."


    Refenial squeaked out several pained notes, causing Elagabalus to frown slightly before he began giving Refenial tips. After an hour of practice, Refenial stopped for a break.


    "You''re really starting to improve," Ela said encouragingly, "If you practice the exercises I''ve shown you every day, you''ll make good progress to mastering music."


    Refenial smiled, finally feeling like he was starting to make progress.


    "How long did it take you to learn to play?" Refenial asked him.


    Elagabalus looked at the sky, considering the question, "I''m not someone it''s fair to compare yourself to." He said at last. "I''d rather not brag, but even as a child, I was uniquely gifted. I also received my title young, younger than you are now."


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    Refenial nodded a little uncertainly, not sure what to make of the response.


    Elagabalus grinned and patted Refenial on the shoulder. "Of course, this must sound like outrageous claims when you don''t even know who I am."


    Refenial found his curiosity getting the better of him. "What do you mean?"


    If Elagabalus had seemed happy before, he now positively radiated joy at being asked that question, "I''m famed right across the kingdom, peasants whisper my name in hope, monsters cower at its mention. Even other titled reach out to me when facing problems too great for them to handle. When the king needs a champion to represent this kingdom, I''m the one he calls. When the Systemic Order needs to stop a rogue titled that is too powerful for them to take on, I''m the one they call. When... well, I''m sure you get the point."


    Elagabalus visibly calmed himself before nodding at Refenial. "Honestly, if it wasn''t for Mother''s worrying, I''d say I''m seen as an unstoppable force for good in this country."


    "Is that why you snuck away from her?" Refenial asked.


    Elagabalus nodded a little uncomfortably. "Yes, she''s always worrying that I''ll be reckless or do something foolish. I mean, really, I''m a grown man."


    Refenial chuckled.


    "Anyway, I''m keeping you from practising. An afternoon of studying with me is something not to be wasted."


    Refenial carried on practising until he noticed the sun was beginning to set. By this point, while he certainly couldn''t play, it at least didn''t sound too painful.


    "Thanks for your help, Ela. I have to go now." Refenial said.


    Elagabalus smiled and then sighed. "I''m sure Mother is worrying where I am too. I''m sure we''ll meet again." Elagabalus paused for a moment, then added, "I nearly forgot. I was going to give you this book."


    A book appeared from the aether into Elagabalus''s hand. It was slender with a plain leather cover. "This book is a basic book on music. What I''ve covered is much better, but in case you forget any of it, you can fill in the gaps with this book."


    Refenial looked at the book with awe. Between this and Elagabalus''s help, he would finally be able to rank up his skill.


    "Thank you!" Refenial said gingerly, taking the book.


    "It''s been my pleasure, Refenial. I expect you to practice every day. I will be checking up on you." Elagabalus said with a cheerful wink.


    Refenial put the book carefully into his rucksack and put the whistle away in its pouch.


    The two parted ways, Refenial looked back after a few steps, but Elagabalus had vanished, his tracks stopping suddenly in the snow. Refenial looked around, but there was no sign of the man.


    He turned back, giving up on seeing where the man went. In front of him on the snowy grass, a crow sat watching him.


    Refenial stepped back in surprise.


    K-Kaw! K-Kaw! The crow called out.


    Refenial looked around, suddenly feeling very exposed on the open terrain of the empty green.


    The bird heaved a few times before it began to regurgitate something. After a few moments, a large present wrapped in white paper with a large red bow sat at the feet of the crow.


    The crow looked between Refenial and the present several times, making its meaning clear before flying off.


    Refenial squatted down in front of the present and noticed a label attached to it. He turned the label over and read it.


    Dearest Refenial,


    The world is a dangerous place. Until you come home, I''d like you to take this so you can always walk safely in the light.


    With much love,


    Griselda, the Crow Queen


    He''d not been expecting it to be from anyone else, he still didn''t trust Griselda, but he couldn''t help but wonder if that distrust was unfair. What had she actually done? She''d taken Obit with her, but the thing was threatening to cast some unknown spell. If he''d failed to stop it, her taking Obit could have saved the boy''s life. Hecate had said not to trust her, but as he''d learned so painfully, she was not someone he could trust. That left the fact that Griselda was a monster. That was a clear enough reason not to trust her. She''d claimed that she no longer needed to eat people, though who knows if that was true.


    Refenial held his head in both hands as he stressed over the problem. After several moments he remembered the present that had taken him down this line of thought in the first place.


    He picked up the box and gently undid the bow. Once the silken bow had slid off, he opened the present. He looked into the box, afraid of what he might find.


    Inside the box was a dagger. He pulled it out, putting the box back onto the snow. The dagger was small and clearly designed for the hands of a child. Its iron blade looked simple but well made, the grip was white leather and the pommel and small guard of polished silver.


    He noticed a white leather sheathe for it still sitting in the box.


    As he turned the dagger over in his hands, on the underside of the guard, he saw the tiny markings of a spellform. He closed his eyes and examined the markings closely with his soul''s eyes but couldn''t glean their intent.


    He decided to risk it and pulled a little mana into the dagger.


    He opened his corporeal eyes slightly and looked at the dagger. In the setting sun''s light, he could see a faint blue moonlight glowing from the dagger.


    Curious, he supplied the dagger with more mana, and its glow gently increased into a cool bright light.


    As he fumbled around with the spellform, looking at it with his soul''s eyes, he felt a tiny part of the enchantment that could move. He pressed on that point, and the light instantly stopped flowing from the dagger, though he could still sense the mana locked away in its spellform. He pressed again, and the dagger lit up once more. He turned it on and off several times until he was confident of his manipulation of the switch. Satisfied, he attached the sheathe to his belt and put the dagger away.


    He began to walk back to the house the trio were staying at.

 Chapter 022 -Grandmother-

    Nia watched Reffy leave the dingy, cramped room before turning to look at Nox.


    She was going to arrange something for the boy''s birthday, but how to discuss it with Nox when she only knew a half dozen words in Frullian. Hopefully, he would already understand. It seemed like they celebrated birthdays here. It''d only be natural for Nox to also want to do something to celebrate Reffy''s birthday.


    She suddenly became aware that she''d been staring at Nox for an uncomfortably long time and looked away, embarrassed.


    She looked back when she noticed Nox taking out a small, almost empty pouch, his coin pouch, she realised. Nox reached into the pouch and pulled out a couple small coins holding them towards her. She looked from the coins up to Nox.


    "Refenial," Nox said with an encouraging smile.


    She carefully took the coins from the cool skin of his hand. "Yes." She responded with one of the few words that she now knew in Frullian.


    Nox seemed happy with her response and said something excitedly in his language before pausing mid-sentence, his face slowly turning red. He said something and quickly left the room. She desperately wished she knew what he''d said. It was so frustrating not being able to understand anyone other than Reffy.


    She sighed wistfully as she headed out of the house, meagre coins in hand, to try to find a present for Reffy in this strange land.


    She stepped out onto the street, the people around her staring at her as she went. It had felt strange when she''d first got here, the constant staring. Sometimes it was even amusing, she thought as she saw a small boy trailing behind his mother, his arm tied to her apron strings. He was staring so intently at her, mouth hanging open in wonder, that he bumped into his mother when she suddenly stopped walking.


    The mother''s hostile gaze was less amusing.


    She''d chosen to come, chosen to come even though she knew it would be difficult, and the stares, while uncomfortable, they were far from the worst things she''d experienced in her life. But they always reminded her she was a stranger in a strange land.


    Her dark skin marked her as an outsider, and even if she learned the language and customs of this land, for many people who lived here, that is all they''d ever see her as. She had Reffy and perhaps Nox when they could actually talk to each other without Reffy as an awkward translator. There would be others too. People who she could forget their differences together with.


    She supposed that if she''d seen the strange pale faces of the people who lived here when she was living back home, she''d have stared just as hard as they did now. She just hoped her staring would have been more like the innocent boy''s and less like his mother''s.


    As she walked down the street, lost in her thoughts, she heard a woman''s voice call out behind her. "Young lady!"


    She turned, surprised to hear someone calling out in her native tongue. She looked around, and a woman was standing only a few feet away. She stood out in stark contrast to the grubby white of the snowy streets and the tired, dirty colours of the clothes worn by those moving through them. She was dressed in a dress of the darkest black, a wide-brim hat protecting her from the winter sun, her hair completely tucked away underneath it. A black lace veil hung from the hat, leaving only hints of a beautiful woman''s features.


    "Might you be from the land of Drokon?" The woman asked, walking slowly towards Nia with steps so graceful she seemed to glide atop the dirty street.


    "Yes. " Nia exclaimed, surprised. This was the first time she''d even heard someone name her homeland since arriving here.


    "I thought so. Forgive my rudeness. It is so rare to see someone from there here in Frull; my excitement overcame me." The woman said, bobbing her head respectfully.


    "How do you know of my country? Do you know someone else from there?" Nia asked.


    "Sort of. I actually visited there with my family back in my youth. I''m sure much has changed since then, though."


    The woman held her hand to her stomach. "Oh, just thinking about the food there makes me feel quite hungry. There is a restaurant near here that I was just on my way to. I''d quite happily pay for your meal if you were to join me and tell me what has changed there."


    While Reffy''s cooking wasn''t bad, most of the food she''d eaten since arriving had been, at best bland and the food she''d stolen while a stowaway on the ship had been worse. A restaurant-cooked meal sounded heavenly. She glanced at the sun in the sky. It was still early enough in the day that she''d have time to join the woman and find Reffy his birthday present.


    "I''d love to," Nia said with feeling.


    The pair walked in a comfortable silence down the streets, quickly moving to a more affluent neighbourhood. The woman then led her towards an expensive-looking restaurant with large glass windows and smooth stone walls.


    The lady held the door open for Nia and followed her in.


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    The first thing she noticed about the place was the sense of luxury it exuded; fancifully coloured and patterned rugs were laid over the common walkways of the establishment, tables and chairs of beautifully maintained dark wood, arrangements of flowers and candles on fine white lace mats sat at every table.


    A man approached his clothes impeccably neat, his body language that of a faithful servant greeting his master.


    The woman exchanged a few words with him, and the man bowed before humbly guiding them to a table set for two.


    They weren''t alone in their patronage. Men and women in fine clothes sat eating, chatting, drinking and, in the case of several men, smoking pipes.


    Nia looked down at her own clothes. They were of acceptable quality but lacked the elegance of dress that others here possessed. They were also stained and dirty from the road.


    She felt even more out of place here than she had in the street.


    Once they''d sat, the woman spoke to the man, who nodded and walked away.


    "I hope you don''t mind. I took the liberty of ordering for you." The woman said.


    Nia smiled; she''d normally have complained, but this was a free meal, and she felt more than a little uncertain in this place.


    "I''m Nia, by the way. What''s your name?"


    "Oh me?" The woman looked around a little uncomfortably. "To tell the truth, I''d rather not say. I''m unfortunate enough to be well-known by some in these parts, and I''d rather not cause a fuss by letting my name slip."


    That was certainly an odd response, Nia decided, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at the woman. The woman didn''t seem to notice her suspicion as she continued. "I''m actually here in Waterhill to meet with a family friend about my grandson."


    Nia was surprised. She''d thought the woman was quite young, even though it was hard to tell with her face hidden behind her veil.


    The man who''d served them approached the table, a meal balanced on each hand. He placed a meat dish she didn''t recognise in front of each of them.


    Once the man left, the woman spoke, "How about you call me Grandmother?"


    "Grandmother?" Nia asked, surprised.


    The woman nodded. "I don''t know my grandson very well. I''m still trying to get used to being his grandmother, so hearing it will help me get in the mindset."


    Nia cut into her meal, raised a piece of the meat on her fork, and bit into it. It was delicious. She resisted the urge to ravenously tear into the meal and instead put on a more refined air suitable for the restaurant.


    The woman who wished to be called Grandmother raised a small piece of her meal, gently manoeuvering it under her veil to eat.


    "Like I said, I''m planning on meeting with a friend of my grandson today." Grandmother sighed, "Unfortunately, my daughter poisoned his mind against me. I''m hoping that the friend will give me an idea of how to convince him he can trust me."


    "Oh, I''m sorry to hear that. How old is he?" Nia asked.


    "Ten, but he''s stubborn. I keep trying to tell him I''m there if he needs anything, but I think he''s afraid of actually reaching out to me. I don''t want to force my help on him, though, or he''ll never trust me."


    Nia felt torn between the enjoyment of her meal and the depressing story. "That''s so sad. Why''d your daughter turn him against you?"


    Grandmother took another delicate bite of her meal before answering. "That''s difficult to answer, honestly. She didn''t have an easy childhood, and she blames me. She sees me as a monster, even though I gave her everything a child could ever want."


    "I think it sounds like you''re doing everything you can. All you can do is make it clear to him that you''re there for him. I''m sure he''ll come around eventually," Nia suggested.


    "Thanks for your advice. I''m sure you don''t want to hear me complain all day. What were you up to? You looked a little lost when we met?"


    Nia smiled. "A friend of mine, Reffy, it''s his birthday today. I wanted to get him a present, but I wasn''t sure what to get him."


    The woman seemed to pause momentarily before speaking, "Reffy? That''s an interesting name."


    "Well, his real name is Refenial, but I prefer calling him Reffy."


    "It sounds like you''re good friends. What can you tell me about Reffy? I might be able to think of a good suggestion for a present."


    Nia considered how best to describe Reffy. "Well, it''s his eleventh birthday, and he doesn''t like to talk about his past. I think some bad things might have happened though I only know a bit."


    She considered some more. "He''s serious, way too serious for a child his age, like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. I think he probably just wants to feel safe, though." She finished awkwardly, realising she''d shared more than she''d meant to.


    It was hard to tell with the veil, but she was pretty sure Grandmother was smiling at her words.


    "Uhh, he also plays the whistle, badly," she said, trying to move the conversation.


    "I see. Perhaps if you work out what makes him feel safe, you can give that to him as a gift."


    Nia thought hards about Grandmother''s words, well aware that the coins she had wouldn''t buy much.


    "That''s a nice idea, but I can''t think of anything like that, that I can afford," Nia confessed sadly.


    "People often find safety in their memories. It helps them through their darkest times. A small gift, if it makes him happy enough, might give him more comfort and safety.


    How about after we''ve eaten, we look at the shops? I have some ideas." Grandmother said.


    The pair ate, talk turning to Nia''s homeland. After a while, the pair finished up and left the shop, Grandmother guiding Nia towards a shop she had in mind.


    As Nia stepped into the warm air of the shop, the smell of fresh warm bread tantalised her nose and made her mouth water despite having only recently eaten. It was a bakery and a high-end one at that. Bread and sweet treats lined the walls. Smart-dressed men and women Nia assumed were servants were coming and going as they bought their master''s daily bread.


    Grandmother approached the counter and spoke to the skinny woman behind it, who in turn talked back to her.


    The words flew too fast for Nia to make out a single one, though it probably wouldn''t have mattered if she had since her Frullian vocabulary was still so limited.


    Grandmother then turned to her. "Apparently, they have a cake, the person that ordered it cancelled last minute. I bet cake and your company would do wonders for making Refen-Reffy feel safe."


    "You think so?" Nia asked uncertainly.


    Grandmother nodded, "Look at the meal I bought you. Before we ate, I was just a stranger on the street to you. Now we know much about each other."


    The woman behind the counter had disappeared and returned with a large cake.


    The cake was white with delicate swirls of white icing laid across in dainty patterns that would rival the artistry of even a master lacemaker. Tiny round fruits that were dark red and glistened slightly formed a complex weave of interlocking rings across the cake''s surface.


    Nia''s eyes bulged as she saw the masterpiece of culinary arts. "I could never afford that!"


    Grandmother chuckled, "Pay what you can, and I''ll make up the difference."


    Nia turned her shocked look on Grandmother. "But it looks so expensive! That probably costs more than a month''s worth of food."


    "closer to two, with the discount. However, you kept me company, and your words have given me much to think about and helped me more than you know in dealing with my grandson. I like to reward those who help me."


    Nia handed over her coins to Grandmother, who added much more of her own to pay the baker.


    "I don''t know what to say. Thanks." Nia admitted as she held the weighty box that contained the cake in her arms.


    "Don''t worry about it. That money was nothing for me. Perhaps don''t tell Reffy that a stranger helped you buy it. If he is as worried as you mention, he might overthink it and ruin his birthday."


    "You think?" Nia asked uncertainly.


    "Yes, absolutely. Now I think I''ll have to be going now. My son snuck off just before we met, and I''m certain he''s up to no good. I get the feeling we will meet again, though, and soon."


    Nia said her goodbyes to Grandmother and left, eager to take the cake back for Reffy.

 Chapter 023 -Cake and god-

    Refenial got back to the room the trio were staying in. Both Nia and Nox had already returned, and a candle had been lit, its flickering light giving the tiny room a cosier feel.


    Nox had a sour look on his face, and when he turned to look at Refenial, he noticed the young ghoul was sporting a black eye. Nox smiled at Refenial, but he could tell the smile was forced.


    "Welcome back, Reffy," Nia said with a more genuine smile, but she glanced worriedly at Nox.


    "What happened? Did you find Buin?" Refenial asked him, worried.


    "I''d rather not talk about it," Nox said glumly.


    "What happened to Nox?" Nia asked, concerned.


    "I don''t know, he doesn''t want to say."


    "Anyway, we got you a birthday present!" Nia said, pointing to a box on Refenial''s bed. "Well, Nox paid for it, but I picked it out and got it. I hope you like it. I wasn''t sure what to get you."


    Refenial stood by his bed, Nox and Nia at either side and opened the box. Inside was the fanciest cake he''d ever seen. It was layered with white frosting and red fruits across its top.


    Refenial noticed Nox giving Nia an odd look.


    "Can you ask Nia how she afforded this? It looks much too expensive for the money I gave her."


    Refenial repeated the question to Nia, who shrugged nervously. "Apparently, the baker made it for someone who cancelled, and so she was selling it cheap."


    When Nox heard the translation, he didn''t look any less surprised. "That cheap?" He waved his hand dismissively. "Anyway, it''s not important. Let''s focus on enjoying this treat."


    The trio sat eating cake, laughing and talking late into the night. For the first time since, well, ever, Refenial felt relaxed and safe in good company, the dangers of the world a distant problem for the him of tomorrow.


    The next morning Refenial woke to the sound of the door closing. He looked over groggily to see it was Nox coming back from somewhere, his black eye already gone.


    "Your eye''s better?" Refenial asked, confused.


    "Advantage of being a ghoul. I just popped out to see what options there were for travelling to the capital."


    Nia rolled over onto her back on the nearby bed and began to snore. Nox and Refenial shared a glance and then chuckled at her snoring.


    "We''re in luck. There''s a trade caravan heading down to the capital, a big one, it''s not going directly there, but it''ll only take a few weeks. The best part is, they''ve got passenger coaches for anyone wanting to travel with them, You pay up, and they look after you till you get there, feed you, set up tents for you, everything."


    "Won''t that be expensive?" Refenial asked dubiously.


    "Yes, but you said last night that Nia was going to teach you her magic. If you''re not working, you can spend the time practising your magic and music. You''ll learn a lot faster that way. Also, you don''t need to worry about the expense since the academy pays their titled students tons of money, so you''ll make it back in weeks, if not months."


    It all sounded perfect, but he decided to wake Nia to get her opinion before they decided for sure. He gently poked her in the shoulder, and she woke up, looking around in sleepy confusion for a few seconds before realizing Nox and Refenial were staring at her. She sat up, giving them an uncertain look.


    "You were snoring." Refenial teased.


    Nia crossed her arms. "I do not snore."


    "It was so loud that Nox wa-" Refenial didn''t finish his sentence before Nia through her pillow at him, and it bounced harmlessly off his face.


    Nox struggled to keep a straight face, "The caravan is leaving in a couple hours. If we''re going, we don''t have time to mess about."


    Refenial explained to Nia what Nox had said about the caravan.


    Nia looked uncertain as she sat on the bed, hugging her legs, "I''m not sure, Nox was nice, but those last lot of caravaneers didn''t seem to like me much. Is travelling with another caravan a good idea?"


    Once Refenial had translated, nox nodded, and his face became more serious. "I know the man running the passenger wagon, Matrill. I''ve worked in the same trade caravan as him before. He''s got the heart of a true merchant. He''d sell seats on his coach to monsters. If their money was good, they kept their feet off the seats, and they didn''t cause trouble. He won''t care that Nia is a foreigner and will take anyone harassing his customers personally." Nox chuckled slightly, "He''s also a retired veteran. I once saw him lose his temper with another merchant. Matrill yelled so loud at the man, I think they must have known we were coming three towns over."


    Once Nia heard what Nox had to say, she perked up. "Ok, let''s get ready and go."


    The trio demolished the last of the cake quickly before Nox said his goodbyes to the old man, who handed him a package of what Refenial assumed was human meat.


    They left Rushing through Waterhill, running late as they stepped out of the town''s gate. At the bottom of the hill, there was a small horde of wagons. About 50 was Refenial''s guess though he wasn''t about to count them. All around them, merchants and their assistants worked, wandered and talked as they readied to leave.


    Nox confidently led them down into the throng of people and across until they stood in front of a large horse-drawn coach with high wooden sides. It had shutters that hung open, letting in the morning air.


    As Refenial stood on his tiptoes, he could just make out a couple of comfortable cloth-padded benches inside. A figure was already sitting on them, though Refenial couldn''t make them out clearly at this angle.


    A man walked up to them. He looked in his late forties, maybe early fifties. His face was a mess of scars, as if mauled by a wild animal. The worst of his scars were centred around one eye. He wore a simple grey cloth bandana of that eye, but by the way the skin sunk down around it, Refenial could tell the socket was empty. He was dressed in the simple but professional grey and black clothes of a coachman.


    The man wore an expression of professional politeness as he addressed Nox. "You''re back. I thought you might have decided to not come with us."


    He looked over at Refenial and Nia. "So these are the two you''re travelling with?"


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    "Yep, all the way to the capital."


    "Well, any paying customer is a welcome sight. It''s been slow this winter."


    Nox gestured for Refenial to pay the man. Refenial got out his pouch, reluctantly parting with most of the money left in it.


    "Thanks, I''m Matrill, and you are?" The man asked Refenial.


    "Refenial, and this is Nia," He said, gesturing to Nia.


    "Welcome aboard. If you need anything, ask me or my lad." Matrill pointed to a teenage boy who was tending to a horse at a neighbouring cart.


    "We''ll provide food, pitch the tents and take care of the day-to-day, we can also get better prices from the others in the trade caravan, so if you need anything, we''ll be quite happy to be middlemen."


    The man spoke as if he''d said all this a hundred times before. "The rules are simple, treat me, my lad, other passengers and other people in the caravan with respect. Keep your feet off of the benches, and don''t do anything that will endanger the caravan''s safety."


    Matrill glanced at Nia, then back at Nox. "You said she doesn''t speak Frullian, so make sure she understands the rules."


    Nox nodded in understanding.


    Matrill gave a satisfied smile, "Well, welcome aboard. There are two other passengers apparently joining us, though they''re cutting it even finer than you three. You might want to make yourself comfortable in the coach while we wait to set off."


    Matrill opened up the passenger coach''s door and placed a wooden step that hung from the coach''s side onto the ground in front of it.


    "Well, I''ll leave you to it." He said and walked off.


    Refenial explained what the man had said while Nox entered the wagon. Nia followed, and Refenial was the last to enter.


    It was actually roomier than he''d imagined from the outside. Even though the benches faced each other, there was enough legroom to not worry about accidental contact with the person sitting opposite.


    Nox had already sat at the far end, and Nia had sat on the other end of the same bench.


    A man was sitting on the opposite bench. He was dressed in workman''s clothes, his face hidden by a combination of a hat that lay across his face and a bushy beard that grew out from under it. He was snoring gently as he sat there.


    Refenial sat between Nia and Nox and opposite the sleeping man.


    He smiled and turned to Nia, "He snores almo-." Nia cut him off. "If you finish that sentence, I won''t teach you how to enchant."


    Refenial closed his mouth with an audible chomp.


    Nox leaned over to whisper to Refenial "I hope that the worst we''ll have to deal with is some light snoring. From what Matrill told me in the past, some passengers can be a real pain."


    Refenial heard Matrill talking to someone outside and turned his body to look out of the coach''s window.


    A slender young man dressed in a grey robe with a wide circular broach worn over his heart, dark-haired and grinning widely, was enthusiastically shaking Matrill''s hand so hard that Refenial half expected it to fall off.


    The man handed Matrill some money and headed for the wagon.


    Matrill momentarily looked to the sky with his one good eye as if wishing for something before Refenial lost the man in the bustle as he turned to see the new fellow traveller enter the wagon.


    "Hi!" the slender young man said in a voice made uncomfortably loud by enthusiasm.


    Refenial gave him an uncertain half-wave, and Nia just looked at him.


    The young man sat between the coach''s door and the snoring man leaning forwards in his seat. "I''m Helus Ivorn, and you all are?"


    "Nox," Nox said in an uncharacteristically frosty tone.


    "Refenial."


    The man looked at Nia, who had yet to speak.


    "She''s Nia she doesn''t speak Frullian." Refenial supplied.


    The man somehow managed to look even more excited at that news. "Oh wow, that''s amazing. I''ve heard that most of the savage nations don''t even have Systemic Order missionaries in them. It''s a shame that she can''t speak our civilized tongue. I''d love to introduce her to the truth of the System."


    Refenial felt Nox tense in the seat next to him.


    "What did he say?" Nia asked, realizing she was the centre of conversation but not what was being said.


    "It wasn''t that long ago. The Systemic Order didn''t have missionaries in this country. At least those that weren''t killed for it." Nox said in an aggressive growl.


    Refenial began translating for Nia.


    Helus held up his hands. "Forgive me, forgive me. I mean no disrespect. I know Frull had a long tradition of disliking the Order, and some still view us with hostility.


    I am going as far as the capital. If you are travelling for much longer, I''m sure we''ll have plenty of time to talk. Maybe I''ll even win you around."


    As Refenial finished translating, Nia glared at the man.


    "I doubt that." nox said.


    There was an awkward silence in the caravan broken by another man stepping in. He was short with greasy brown hair and a look of mild disgust fixed on his face like he''d just stepped in something foul.


    He looked around at everyone finding the free seat at the far end of the passenger coach and awkwardly shuffled past everyone in silence to reach the seat before sitting there. He sat there silently looking at the floor other than an occasional glance at his fellow passengers.


    Matrill came to the coach''s open door tapping on its frame to get everyone''s attention as he stooped to reattach the step.


    "That''s everyone, just in time too. The caravan is leaving." He said before firmly closing the door.


    The sound of the axle squeaking, the hoof fall of the horse and the trade caravan moving brought contrast to the awkward silence within the coach.


    "This is going to be a long trip," Nox whispered under his breath, quietly enough that only Refenial could hear.


    Refenial nodded. He pulled out the music book Ela had given him and began to read.


    "Where did you get that," Nia glanced down, surprised. "And I''m sure you didn''t have a dagger yesterday."


    "I met a musician who gave me some tips on how to practice with my whistle. He also gave me the book."


    "And the dagger too?" She paused for a moment. "I guess there are some generous people in this country."


    Refenial paused, not wanting to answer about the dagger, but Nia continued speaking.


    "Just don''t practice the whistle in the wagon, or there might be a murder." She said seriously but with a hint of a smile.


    Refenial nodded. "The plan was to read through this."


    Nia seemed satisfied with that, and Refenial was left to read in peace.


    After about an hour of reading in the gently rocking coach, Refenial put the book down, feeling a little queasy. He looked across at the still-sleeping man and then accidentally made eye contact with Helus Ivorn.


    The man gave him a friendly smile. "Studying hard?"


    "Yeah," Refenial said neutrally, realizing he was being sucked into a conversation he didn''t want to have.


    He started to raise the book back up, but Helus spoke again.


    "I remember when I was your age, I''d always be trying to get out of studying." He chuckled. "My tutors must have despaired of me. Do you have a tutor, or are you in one of the systemic order schools?"


    "Uh, neither," Refenial said before saying something he instantly regretted. "Honestly, I don''t know much about the Systemic Order."


    For the first time since meeting him, Refenial saw Helus frown, but it was soon replaced with another smile. "Well, I''m sure I can answer any questions you might have." Helus tapped the circle broach on his chest. "I''m an initiate. I''m on my way to the capital to finish my training. And answering your questions will be good practice. So what do you want to know?"


    "Err..." Refenial said, uncertain how to fix his mistake.


    "Well, do you know what the Systemic Order is?"


    "Don''t you worship systemic magic?"


    Helus frowned slightly. "No, but yes. We worship the divine being known as System. System provides all those who connect with it systematic magic through which its guidance flows.


    Those touched by the System, titled, are given a tiny piece of the divine and the potential to act as agents for System''s will."


    "What does System want?" Refenial asked, putting down his book. If he was stuck in this conversation, he might as well learn something from it.


    "System wants us, each and all, to follow our roles, both those it gives and those that are given by those around us. A slave should bow before and obey his master, a child should honour and respect their parent, and a wife should show obedience to her husband. Titled are no different, a Titled should in all ways and times seek to become their title while still acting within their station in life."


    "I thought slavery was illegal in Frull?" Refenial asked, confused.


    "You were quite right in thinking that. Sadly when this kingdom was founded, its ruler was a Titled that had strayed far from the path, a petty tyrant who, in her sin, rejected System''s guidance.


    She drove us out of the land and, like your friend mentioned, outlawed our religion for a long time. Of course, Frull isn''t the only country, and the Order worked from the other kingdoms, and eventually, we were able to return. Sadly many of her traditions remain, though we are working hard to convince the king to overturn them and make a better society for all."


    "It doesn''t sound like it''d be a better society for the slaves," Nox said, joining the conversation.


    "Ahh, a common misconception, but that is simply not true", Helus beamed at Nox. "You surely must have met people in your life, troubled people, people whose life is a constant entanglement of tragedy and misfortune, most brought on by their own poor decisions. Those who don''t have the capacity to make their life better need help and guidance. They''re like ships adrift without anyone at the helm. They are a disaster waiting to happen. But they might better themselves and society with a firm hand at the tiller."


    "I''ve heard how slaves are treated in those countries you mentioned, the flesh markets of Rin and Tull. The arena in Isk. The slaves of house Imara." Nox spat the words angrily.


    "yes, sometimes people stray from the guidance of the System. The Systemic Order does what it can to stop those that would abuse their power. Even in those times and places, the life of the average slave is much better than the hopeless plight that many face as they fall into miserable lives of alcoholism, abuse, and desperately struggling to feed and clothe themselves."


    Helus and Nox argued back and forth as the wagon trundled along. Neither wanted to let the argument drop or give ground as morning turned to afternoon turned to evening.

 Chapter 024 -Im going to start stabbing-

    Refenial''s head pounded from listening to the hours of arguing. Nox''s constant yelling and Helus''s constant smile felt indelibly branded into his mind as he stepped out of the coach onto the snow. They were in rough scrubby land. It had too many bushes and trees to be considered empty but not enough for Refenial to feel the discomfort he did when encountering a forest.


    Matrill was already hard at work with his son setting up a campfire to cook for the evening amongst the bustle of the trade caravan.


    Refenial saw Nia a little way away and walked over to her.


    She gave him a tired glance. "I thought this trip would be fun, but my bum aches from sitting on that bench all day, and if I have to put up with any more arguing, I going to end up killing someone." She grumped.


    Refenial grimaced in reluctant agreement.


    "I did say I''d show you how to enchant," she said with a complete lack of enthusiasm.


    "I need to get stronger," Refenial said, determined despite not feeling at his best.


    "We should do this away from the camp, no one would probably know what we''re doing, but I don''t trust that priest guy. From what Nox said before, if he works out you''re titled, it could cause problems. If we head out of the camp, Nox can watch out for monsters while I show you what to do."


    They found Nox and walked a little away from the caravaneers until they were out of sight.


    "Thanks for helping. Do you want to borrow my dagger?" Refenial asked Nox.


    Nox shook his head. "No thanks, I''m a ghoul. Like I told you guys before, it does have its advantages. Any monsters that try to attack, I should have no problem with."


    "Oh yeah, I don''t think I''ve ever asked you what you can do as a ghoul?"


    Before Nox could Reply, Nia spoke, "It''s getting cold, and It''ll be dark soon. Can you guys talk later?"


    "Sorry Nia, please show me your magic."


    Nia took her wand and held it in her hand. "Open your soul''s eyes. It''ll be easier to explain if you can see what I''m doing."


    Refenial obliged and saw the particles of mana gently floating like languid fireflies all around them as they stood facing each other, Nox a few steps away, keeping an eye out for monsters.


    Nia spoke, "The first and most important part of enchanting is intent. Without clear intent, nothing will happen."


    She lifted her wand forwards to show Refenial. "Take this wand as an example. I wanted a weapon that would shoot a fast magical attack that dealt kinetic damage when it hit a target. So I needed to decide on how every aspect of that would work and have a firm visualisation of it in my mind. All of it! From how fast it can fire to the shape of the magical energy as it flies through the air, even precisely how the wand itself looks."


    She paused for emphasis. "Every aspect needed to be absolutely clear in my mind. The less certain you are, the harder it is to enchant."


    Refenial nodded as he listened.


    "Once I have that visualisation, I then gently focus that image onto the wand using my soul and wait. Mana motes will eventually collide with the object you are visualising on, and depending on how effectively you are visualising, a small amount or maybe the entire mote will be absorbed into the object."


    She looked down at the wand ruefully. "If you do this once, nothing will happen. But if you repeat this hundreds or maybe thousands of times, eventually, the item will be enchanted."


    "So once it''s enchanted, you can use it whenever you want?"


    "Yes, sort of. To use it, you must visualise the enchantment as fully as you would when enchanting. As long as that visualisation is in your mind, you can use the item as you envisioned. There''s more to enchanting than that, but that''s the basic idea."


    "How do I practice this?"


    Nia smiled and pointed at the coin pouch she knew Refenial kept around his neck. "Take one of your coins out, one you can keep out."


    He reached in and pulled out a small copper coin, which he vaguely remembered was called a ''beggar''s treat'' and held it in his hand.


    "Now look at it carefully. Examine every nook and cranny, scratch and mark. You need to be able to visualise every inch of that coin. It''ll probably take you a few days to remember it well enough, especially for the first time."


    Refenial looked at the coin, feeling this wasn''t that hard. He closed his eyes, trying to visualise it, then looked back again, realising his mental image didn''t contain all the nuances and intricacies of the coin. This was harder than he''d assumed.


    As he continued to study the coin, there was a rustling sound in a nearby bush. Refenial looked over. Just as a tiny squirrel monster shot out of the bush, launching itself at him.


    Refenial, taken by surprise, flinched. He needn''t have, though. Nox''s arm shot out with inhuman speed catching the squirrel monster mid-flight. Nox then squeezed down, breaking the monster''s neck. He let it go and stomped on it, with the sound of cracking bones, to ensure it was put out of its suffering.


    Nox looked back up and glanced between Refenial and Nia, who were both staring at him. "Ghoul, remember." He said as an explanation.


    "So being a ghoul makes you move faster?" Refenial asked.


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    Nox smiled slightly. "Move faster, stronger, heal faster, able to see in the dark, and uh..." he paused a little uncertainly. "Able to sense dead bodies at a distance."


    The trio headed back to the camp and its warm campfire, Refenial translating Nox''s explanation as they went.


    Matrill was cooking over the fire when they returned. A man was sat eagerly watching Matrill as he worked. After a moment, Refenial recognised the man from his hat and bushy beard. It was the man who''d been asleep in the coach. Even Nox and Helus''s constant arguing seemed to have done nothing to disturb his sleep.


    As the trio sat on a bench before the fire, the man gave them a polite nod of greeting before turning his eyes back to the food being cooked.


    The other passenger on their trip, the man with greasy brown hair and a disgusted look seemingly permanently etched on his face, came over and sat by the fire.


    He smiled at his fellow passengers, but his expression looked hollow. "Good, Helus isn''t here. we might get a moment of peace." The man said bitterly to those around the fire.


    As if summoned by those words, Helus appeared out of the growing gloom and walked over to the fire, raising his hands out to warm them. "Ahh." He said, taking in the fire''s warmth.


    The disgusted man gave a disappointed look.


    Helus looked around, and Refenial saw his eyes lock with Nox''s. He knew if he didn''t do anything, the arguing between them would start up again.


    "Uh... what are you cooking Matrill?" he asked in a desperate bid to divert the debate before it began.


    The grizzled man looked up. "Beef stew, I''ve got fresh bread and butter to go with it."


    The bearded man let out a contented little sigh at Matrill''s words.


    Helus opened his mouth to speak, seemingly not put off his potential discussion with Nox by the question.


    Refenial looked at the bearded man and the disgusted man. "I don''t think we''ve actually talked. I''m Refenial. Who are you two?"


    "Iln." The disgusted man said.


    "Oh me, I''m Talot, the plumber." The bearded man said with a smile that revealed several missing teeth.


    "It''s ready," Matrill said and began serving the food. As everyone tucked in, the food was good enough to maintain the group''s silence, much to Refenial''s relief.


    Once everyone had eaten Matrill showed them their tents, each was a single-person canvas tent made comfortable with thick furs and blankets. They were also each given fire-heated stones wrapped in cloths that would provide much-needed warmth on the cold winter''s night.


    Before bed, Nia, was keen to practice Frullian with Refenial, though he was unsure of the phrase she was so eager for him to teach her.


    The next morning as everyone sat in the coach and it began to trundle along in the cold morning air, Helus spoke, "So, Nox, you''ve had an evening to consider my words. Perhaps your position on the Systemic Order has improved, at least a little?"


    "That''s never going to happen. You''re the worst thing to ever happen to Frull. There have been plagues that were more pleasant than your Order." Nox snapped back, his voice already approaching a yell.


    Nia calmly pulled out her dagger, causing both men to turn to look across at her in surprise.


    She smiled at both of them with a dangerous sweetness and spoke in halting Frullian the words she''d asked Refenial to teach her last night. "If you don''t shut up, I''m going to start stabbing."


    Both men sat back silently. Talot, the plumber, who Refenial had assumed was asleep since his hat was already laid across his face, chuckled slightly.


    The next few days passed much more smoothly. Refenial alternated his time between studying the music book and looking at the coin during the boring days of the coach trip. He practised the whistle most evenings away from camp. He also helped Nia with learning the language, though she ended up using her new phrase twice more when Helus and Nox forgot her earlier threat and began arguing again.


    It was mid-afternoon when the caravan stopped. Refenial was busy studying his coin memorising every aspect of it.


    Nox looked out of the window. "Seems a bit early if we''re stopping for the day."


    The coach sat there unmoving for several more minutes before Matrill came and opened the door of the coach. He gave the passengers a sombre look. "We have a problem."


    "What?" Refenial asked.


    "We were due to stop in a village tonight called Newfield. It''s just over there." Matrill said, pointing towards a wooden wall very similar to the one that had been around his and Obit''s village.


    Matrill continued, "The problem is, the village looks abandoned. The gates are wide open, and no one is guarding them. No one has gone in yet, but we can''t see any movement inside. So the caravan is looking for volunteers to go and work out what''s happening. We need to know if it''s safer to stay the night inside or outside the walls."


    Refenial thought of how similar the village walls looked to the one he''d lived in. He wondered if people like Alton, Maxit, and Obit lived there. The thought that something could have happened to people like that set waves of nervous energy washing through his stomach.


    "I''ll go." He said matter-of-factly.


    Matrill gave him a warm smile "Lad, while I''m happy to see such a brave young lad. I don''t think it''s appropriate for adults to be sending a child into a dangerous unknown situation."


    Refenial didn''t want to give away that he was Titled, not with Helus near, but he didn''t want to sit here doing nothing. "I''m tougher than I look. I can take care of myself."


    Matrill gave him a long, considering look. "You might be right, but I''m still going to say no."


    "I''ll go." Nox and Helus said in unison before exchanging glances, Helus''s a wide grin, Nox''s a scowl.


    "I''ll explain to Nia. She might want to go." Refenial said.


    Matrill shook his head. "I''m sure she''s capable, but we need clear communication, and if you''re the only one she can talk to, it''s better she stays here with you.


    Refenial sat there feeling frustrated as Helus and Nox left the coach.


    He turned to Nia, explaining the situation.


    She gave an annoyed look. "I hate being told what I can or can''t do. Let''s go." She said, standing.


    "But they said we couldn''t go with them," Refenial said uncertainly.


    Nia laughed as she stepped out of the coach Refenial following behind. "Sweet Reffy, people say many things. If what people tell you to do mattered, I''d still be at home diligently studying with my Grandfather."


    Once out of the coach, they saw a small group of eight people, including Matrill, Nox and Helus, slowly walking towards the village walls.


    They jogged to catch up with the group. "We don''t need a kid and a darkling tagging along too." One of the men in the group that Refenial vaguely recognised as a wine merchant''s guard said as they approached.


    Matrill turned to the man. "They''re my paying customers, you''ll talk to them with respect, or we''re going to have a problem."


    The man shut up.


    Matrill turned back to Refenial and Nia, who''d nearly reached the group. "I said to go wait in the coach. This isn''t safe."


    "No. We''re going." Refenial said definitively.


    Matrill and Refenial locked gazes for a long moment, two eyes staring into one.


    Matrill sighed and turned to Nox. "You''re travelling with the boy. Talk some sense into him."


    Nox smiled down at Refenial, "Matrill''s right. I know you''re tough, Refenial, but..."


    Nia pointed at the village and then tapped her still-sheathed dagger before repeating her new phrase, "If you don''t shut up, I''m going to start stabbing."


    Nox hung his head in defeat before turning to Matrill. "Unless we physically lock them in the coach, I don''t think we''re going to stop them." Nox glanced down at Nia''s dagger. "And I''d rather not try that."


    Matrill gave Nia and Refenial a cold look. "Fine. But don''t do anything stupid, and if any of you die, the blood isn''t on my hands."


    The group began walking towards the abandoned village.

 Chapter 025 -The rebirth of a hero-

    Obit lay still on the bed, his bed, he supposed. It was softer, more comfortable than the bed he''d slept in every night of his life. It was perfect in every way, from the gentle coolness of the fabric to the mattress that felt like a downy hug. Even the gentle fresh scent that the sheets gave off was beyond reproach.


    It was wrong, though. It felt unwelcoming in its perfection. His bed had been much less, but it had been the bed he''d grown up in. His bed, his house, his village, his family. It was all gone, washed away by Old Mother Hecate.


    With a mental effort, he looked up slightly at the sword, Un. It rested easily, three-dozen feet away, on the desk on the far side of the palatial room. The fantastical sculpting of the gold detailing of the desk''s lip slightly obscured his view of it. Un''s plain and functional design was an unrelentingly harsh contrast to the opulence of the room, stuffed with toys that even a prince would look upon with envy.


    Griselda had brought him here, the day of the...


    The day...


    She had brought him here.


    He''d lain here quietly crying, sobbing as she tried to soothe him with gentle words and soft tones. He''d said nothing that day or any day since. His words stilled as he lay in this gilded room, speech stolen from him by the memory of that day.


    She''d visited him most days, often more than once a day, each time bringing new toys that sat untouched upon the never-dusty shelves or unrequested promises. Promises that he could have anything his heart desired if he''d only speak. Anything he wanted would be his if only a single word escaped his lips.


    He''d said nothing, though. There was only one thing he wanted. Griselda might be a powerful monster, but Obit knew even she wouldn''t be able to bring back the dead.


    After the bribery had come the begging. Griselda had been on her knees next to the bed begging, pleading with him to speak, to say anything.


    That, too, had failed, though Obit felt wracked with guilt at his silence and at his distrust of Griselda. She was a monster, yes, but if she was truly as evil as he''d assumed, would she be so determined to help him? Would an evil monster really get on its knees to beg a powerless child such as himself to speak?


    Once that, too, had failed, she''d simply come into his room almost every day and sat on the edge of the bed. She would gently stroke his hair and talk. She''d talked about many things. She talked about her day, about the weather, but most of all, she talked about Refenial. About how Old Mother Hecate, or as she called her ''Hildegard'', had lied to Refenial. About how Refenial was travelling through dangerous places, how in his desperation, he''d even been forced to work with a thing called a ghoul, A treacherous monster-like creature that pretended to be human. These ghouls dwelled in towns and cities, using lies and deceit to prey on the flesh of humans.


    She told him, Refenial had been deceived and lied to by the Old Mother, who was manipulating him into staying away from Griselda and Obit. Refenial was now on his way to a magic school where he would learn magic that would turn him into a powerful being that the Old Mother wanted to use in her war against Griselda.


    Obit desperately wanted to see his friend again. Refenial had lied to him about being a noble, but only because he was tricked by Hecate, just as he was being tricked now.


    Obit knew he was, in truth, powerless. He''d not been able to save his family. He''d had to rely on Old Mother Hecate, who had let them all die. What could he do? He was no squire, no hero. He was a small child in a world where monsters walked freely, and witches could erase whole villages'' worth of life in a single moment of terrible blinding light.


    He looked at the sword again, at Un. The way Hecate and Griselda spoke of it. It was like something out of one of the stories his father used to tell. A magical sword fit for some mythical king or grand hero to wield. A sword that could slay even the most terrible horrors that lurked in the dark in a single moment of righteous judgement.


    It didn''t look like a hero''s sword. There were no gems inlaid in its hilt, and its dull copper surface didn''t gleam and glisten with a silver light. There wasn''t a single embellishment or sign of artistry along its entire functional surface. It was as if the sword''s first victim had been the sense of wonder and beauty with which such mythical swords were described.


    How could something so simple, so mundane, be something people spoke about with so much reverence?


    He looked around the room again, the expansive oil paintings of children playing in sunny fields, the perfectly crafted artistry of the ceiling, every inch of it formed and carved with such skill that it was difficult to believe human hands had made it. Perhaps they hadn''t.


    The toys, too, every one of them amazing and wonderous, regiments of hundreds of toy soldiers with carefully crafted joints that could move, wooden swords with real gems set in their hilts. A dollhouse-like castle that was larger than some of the sheds had been back in the village.


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    For all its brilliance, it felt empty, a hollow gift from Griselda.


    He remembered the sword cutting through the monster as easily as it had cut through the air.


    A thought entered his mind. It felt dangerous, heretical, yet liberating. Like he was standing on the edge of a crumbling cliff.


    Perhaps, Un really was a sword of legend fit only for a hero. Perhaps heroes didn''t come in gleaming armour riding white chargers since it had chosen him. Perhaps heroes were humans who failed yet pushed on to new, greater heights. Perhaps they could be anyone, even a small boy, who had failed his family and let them die. Perhaps heroes were anyone who fought against the darkness of the world with everything they had. Anyone with the strength to wield a blade, even if it didn''t gleam in the light.


    The world was full of darkness, death, and lies. Maybe it did need a hero, a hero like in those stories, not in appearance but in action. Maybe if that hero was needed, and it could be anyone, it could be an eight-year-old boy with a magic sword and an unbreakable belief in being a hero.


    Obit, for the first time since his arrival, pulled himself upright and placed his bare feet on the plush carpeted floor, wriggling his toes slightly at the unfamiliar feeling of the soft material.


    There was the sound of fluttering wings from one of the windows. He looked over at the open window stretched from floor to ceiling that hung ajar but saw only the night sky that lacked both stars and clouds. This had been the constant sight outside the window since his arrival.


    He pulled himself up, his muscles feeling a little unsteady after being in bed for so long and walked slowly towards the desk, towards Un.


    He stopped in front of the sword, looking down at its plain features and gently brushed his fingers across the top of it, feeling the gentle chill of metal under his fingers.


    Slowly but decisively, he lifted the sword and held it. It felt heavy in his hand. Not just in physical weight but heavy in the weight of the knowledge of who he needed to become and knowledge of what he needed to overcome.


    He looked down at the blade, silently swearing that no matter how much it cost him and how much work it took, he would become a hero.


    This world was not the world of his stories, not a place for heroes, but it made no difference. If the world was unfit for heroes, then he would bend the world to his will until it was.


    The world would bend and break before him.


    [rank up!]


    The words flashed across his vision in confirmation of his decision. This might have hardened his resolve if he had been more uncertain, but his certainty was so absolute as to make that impossible.


    He turned, sword still in hand, walking towards the door of his room. He opened it and stepped out into the silent stillness of the corridor beyond.


    It was decorated in the same overly rich style as the bedroom, but the pictures were different. The corridor stretched far away from him into the distance. Along its walls, at regular intervals, were fine oil paintings. All but a few were of crows. Each one showed a crow in a different scene. Some showed crows sitting over doors or by windows, some in forests or on mountains. Some even showed murders of crows blotting out the sky of battlefields or ruined cities.


    The windows in the corridor stretched from floor to ceiling, like in the bedroom. He looked out of them. Outside he could see more of the building he was wandering in. A huge palace that seemed to stretch for miles. Other than the palace, there was nothing. An endless void of black, no stars hung in the sky, no clouds, no moon. There was no ground either, no grassy hills, no distant mountains or lapping waves, just the palace lit up as if in daylight by some indeterminate light source.


    He began to wander through the palace''s corridors. They were winding and difficult to tell apart in their perfect sameness. Only the pictures were different, each one unique. There was a feeling in the air of the place, a tension between the feeling of age the palace exuded combined with the feeling of unused newness the immaculate corridors provided.


    He''d seen people here, though, he was sure. Servants who''d brought him food and emptied his chamber pot. Where were they now?


    He thought about those servants, but the more he tried to remember names, faces, and what they''d said, the more the memories drifted apart like smoke on the wind. The servants had existed, he was sure of it, but their true nature remained elusive.


    After a time, he began checking the rooms, but each one he found was a bedroom, cold, dark and unused.


    He hurried on, unsettled by the strange palace.


    As he turned a corner, he found a large stairwell, the first break in the pattern of corridors and bedrooms he''d found.


    He stood at the top of the wide marble staircase, looking down the stairwell that broke off into a corridor on every floor. He slowly counted as he tried to work out how many floors down the stairwell went. After a moment of silence, he reached the number of twenty. Twenty floors of broad marble steps, steps so grand that he could only imagine kings and queens using them.


    He walked down the stairs, floor after floor, until he reached the bottom of the stairs.


    This floor was different. A huge entrance hall was laid out before him, row after row after row of suits of armour lined the walls and chandeliers the size of a small house hung in flocks from the ceiling.


    He heard the sound of a door opening nearby and turned to see a small door in the nearest wall open, and Griselda stepped through.


    She was dressed as he had first seen her, as she always was when he saw her, in her magical black dress that seemed to always twist and transform into a myriad of styles and designs, each one best suited the exact pose she happened to be in.


    "Obit!" She said, a wide smile on her ruby-red lips.


    She walked quickly but confidently towards him, following his gaze as he couldn''t help but marvel at the sights of the palace.


    "This is my home. It once belonged to a being much older and more powerful than I," she said in explanation. "Though I did do some redecorating."


    He looked back at her, the weight of his long silence making talking feel more difficult now.


    "I..." His voice felt strange after such a long time of being unused. He cleared his throat and tried again, "I, I want to get stronger. Stronger than anyone."


    Griselda walked over to him and knelt gracefully down to his level, tenderly stroking his hair, "As you wish, little one, as you wish."

 Chapter 026 -Three little pigs-

    Nox watched the village walls with cautious vigilance as he approached. The gate hung open enough to suggest something was wrong but not so far open as to actually allow easy sight into the village itself. He could see the snow built up around the gate. It had been open for a while.


    His heart sank as his cursed sense began to stir deep within him. Someone had died in there. As his sense continued to awaken, his heart sunk further. A lot of people had died in there.


    He looked at the group with him. If it was just him Refenial, and Nia he could have said something to warn them, but with the men from the caravan, especially with the ever-smiling Helus, he couldn''t risk their finding out he was a ghoul.


    The group reached the gate as they cautiously drew their weapons. He noticed Refenial was holding his dagger. He was sure the boy hadn''t had the weapon before arriving in Waterhill. He couldn''t blame the boy for buying a weapon to protect himself.


    He often wondered about the strange boy, Refenial had opened up only a little, and he was certainly keeping many secrets. He had theories, especially after the strange encounter with Hildegard and that night with the crow that kept staring at the boy, but he wasn''t willing to push the child into talking before he was ready.


    Matrill gestured silently with his axe, making it clear that the older man would step through the gate first, and the rest would follow.


    Nox was nearly the last person to step through, his uncertainty about what he''d find inside delaying him more than he meant to.


    He looked around the village, taking the sorrowful sight in. The place was in ruins. Bits of bloody clothes stuck and abandoned tools sat half exposed beneath the white snow. Even without his unnatural sense, he could tell this was a place of death, the cloying, sickly smell that lingered even in the open air said enough.


    Many of the houses and various buildings were in partial ruins, as if someone had no respect for their frames, like they had been cannibalized for parts. As he looked around, that, in fact, seemed to be exactly what had happened.


    At the centre of the village sat something crooked and vaguely akin to a two-storey house. Its design was crude, a nonsensical mishmash of straw, wood and stone. Shuttered windows stolen from other houses sat at drunk angles, and a door on the upper floor hung slightly ajar, opening into nothing but open air. It looked like a single puff of breeze could blow the house down, but he doubted it would be that simple.


    Nox looked at the crude approximation of humanity that the house represented, his ability to sense death spiralling into overdrive in the presence of the structure and knew in a sickening heartbeat what it meant.


    "Monster." He whispered under his breath.


    Matrill gestured everyone over so they could talk in low tones. "We need to know where the monster is. If it''s not home, it might be safest to move the caravan into here for the night. We could use the wall to keep it at bay."


    "Why don''t we just burn down that creepy house?" One of the men asked.


    Matrill shook his head. "If the monster isn''t home and sees the smoke, it might attack before we''re ready. We should split into teams of two and search the damaged houses for clues and survivors. Then once they''re clear, we''ll go to that house together."


    "Just keep quiet so you don''t let it know we''re here if it is at home," Matrill added.


    From the grim looks on everyone''s faces, Nox knew, like him, none of the people here were expecting survivors.


    He looked around for who to partner with and noticed that almost everyone else had already partnered. Nia and Refenial already skulking away to one of the nearest ruined houses.


    "It looks like it''s me and you." an unfortunately familiar voice said behind him. Nox turned to see Helus smiling sadly behind him.


    Nox looked around, desperately hoping to switch partners but knowing it was too late.


    "Fine." He said in defeat.


    Helus frowned slightly. "I know you''ve got doubts about the Systemic Order, but surely you can put them aside at a time like this?"


    Nox bit down on his tongue to stop himself from saying something he''d regret. As much as he''d like to wipe that smug smile off the evil priest''s face, he knew now wasn''t the time.


    Nox silently pointed at a nearby house, not trusting himself to say anything.


    Helus nodded and began walking with him towards the house.


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    The pair crept towards the house. While this village was small, it must have been relatively wealthy since the house was made of a mixture of stone and wood. The straw roof was half-caved with straw spread liberally around. The door hung smashed open, a dark portal to a dark interior.


    Nox pulled on the door as it stuck slightly in the snow, careful not to use too much strength unless he gave away his true nature to Helus.


    He looked into the ruined house, his ghoulish eyes instantly adjusting to its gloom.


    It was a grim sight. The first thing he spotted was the large table. Rotten remains of a half-eaten meal were sprayed across it as if knocked over in a struggle.


    "Ugh, it stinks," Helus said, holding his hand to his face as he stood behind Nox, craning his head to look past him.


    Nox nodded. He was about to quip back at the irritating man, but the empty, bloodied baby basket that lay strewn carelessly on the floor made the words catch in his throat.


    "It''s bad in there. You might want to stay here." Nox said to the would-be priest softly. He hated Helus, but he wasn''t sure he would be willing to expose even someone he hated to the horrors they might find in the home.


    Helus stepped forwards, retching quietly as he noticed the basket. Nox stepped forwards slightly into the house, concerned that Helus might be sick on him.


    After a moment, the man seemed to have calmed his stomach a little. "No, I won''t hide away from the evils of the world." He said softly to Nox.


    Nox nodded and walked deeper into the house, leaving Helus to make his own choices.


    Looking around, the house was what you''d expect of a slightly wealthier peasant in a village like this, a little furniture, a table, a few chairs and benches. Simple straw beds. One adult sized and two for children. He looked at the food carefully. It had started to rot but was not completely gone. He guessed a week, maybe two, since the tragedy had happened.


    "Oh System, there''s children''s beds too." He heard Helus whisper in a tone so filled with pained horror that Nox felt a pang of pity for the man.


    Nox turned to Helus, trying to shut down any thought of what must have happened here. "There''s no survivors here. We should carry on searching."


    The pair left the house and searched two more broken homes. Both just as empty as the first. They then headed back to the gate where everyone was meeting.


    Nox looked at the faces of the men as he approached. Their looks were grim and hollow as their troubled minds tried to process the realities of seeing the signs of so many lives butchered without mercy or compassion. He noticed there were no survivors huddled into the group, he''d expected nothing less, but it still hurt to see as he remembered the basket and children''s beds.


    Once of the last of them returned Matrill cleared his throat, then spoke quietly to them in a voice that held only strained sorrow. "Did anyone find any clues?"


    "I think it''s probably been a week or two since the attack," Nox suggested, and a few other men nodded in quiet agreement.


    "That was my assessment, too," Matrill said. "We need to work out if the monster is in it''s house. If it is, we should burn it down like suggested earlier." He pointed to two of the men. "Get lit torches from the wagon. We''ll scout it, and if there''s anyone there, we''ll burn it down."


    The two men ran off quietly towards the caravan.


    "What if there''s survivors in there?" Refenial asked.


    Matrill looked down at the boy, speaking to him with a soft tone of fatherly concern. "Lad, you should go back to the wagon."


    Refenial shook his head. "No, I''m going to see this through to the end."


    Matrill nodded, his expression sombre, "Then I''ll tell you. If this monster attack happened a week or two ago, most likely everyone in there is dead, and if they''re not..."


    "What?" Refenial said, pulling himself into a determined stance and giving Matrill a fierce look.


    "Lad... monsters don''t always eat people quickly. If someone is somehow still alive, they''ll be lacking... parts."


    "Oh..." Refenial said distantly.


    "so we''re in agreement then?" Matrill asked. Looking around at the nodding heads.


    Nox was surprised to see a lone dissenter, Refenial.


    "Refenial..." Nox said, feeling sympathetic for the boy''s objection.


    "No! If there are people who are alive in there, even if they''re suffering, what right do we have to murder them."


    "Refenial, this is our only chance to stop whatever monster is in there. If the monster isn''t in there, then we might be able to rescue people, but if the monster gets out, then others will probably die." Nox said.


    "nox is right. We''re more likely to save lives by burning it down if the monster is in there." Matrill said sadly.


    Refenial started talking rapidly back and forth with Nia in her language. After a moment, he turned and started running towards the twisted house.


    Nox started to move to chase the boy, but Nia stood between the group and Refenial. She shot a warning shot from her wand into the air, the projectile faintly humming through the air, before lowering it back down pointed at the group.


    "No." She told them in her thick accent.


    Nox hesitated. He wasn''t sure how powerful her wand actually was. Maybe he could rush forwards and overpower her if he gave it his all, but that would give away his inhuman nature. Questions would be asked, and with Helus standing next to him, those questions would likely lead to his death.


    As he saw Refenial getting closer and closer to the house, he made his decision, but before he began to move, he felt Matrill''s strong hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at the one-eyed man, confused.


    "If there''s the sound of a struggle and the monster is in there, it will give us away, and the monsters will see Refenial. Our best hope now if the monster is in there is if Refenial comes back."


    Nox dropped his head forwards in frustration. He''d been a fool to let Refenial come along. Sometimes the boy seemed so mature for his age. More like a little grown-up than a child. Sure, Refenial knowing magic and being titled might meet he was tougher than average, too. It didn''t mean he had the sense not to crawl into a monster''s nest.


    He''d seen the traumatized look on the boy''s face when they''d travelled through the forest or when questions of his past came up, but he thought, if anything, that trauma would make the boy run from certain death, not charge blindly in.


    He looked over. Refenial was at the house now, creeping forwards ducked low as he walked towards a crooked window that sat just above ground height. The boy slid his dagger through a gap in the window shutters, undoing their latch and allowing them to quietly swing open and give him access to the horror inside.


    Refenial looked back for a moment, and despite the distance their eyes met, Nox felt like his heart would break with grief as he saw the look of determination on the boy''s face. He knew Refenial wouldn''t turn back, he would go into that monster''s lair, that house of horrors, and it would be the last he''d ever see of the boy again.


    Refenial turned away and slipped into the crooked house.

 Chapter 027 -The house of horrors-

    "so we''re in agreement then?" Matrill asked. Looking around at the nodding heads.


    Refenial''s mind churned faster and faster as his heart hammered out a distressed tattoo in his chest. It was like the wolf in the forest all over again. Except these people had no Old Mother Hecate, no one to save them.


    Visions of Maxit lying dead against the tree, the wolf''s hot wet breath against his skin as it spoke to him, its words just as loud in his ears as the day he''d heard them.


    "I know you all came from the village near here, little one. Heh, after I devour you, I''m going to pay it a visit. Do your friends live there? Or do your parents? I''m going to eat them all. Oh, with that many people in one place, it could take me days to eat them. Oh my, oh my, from the feet up, you''d be surprised how many days it could be before the first one even needs to die."


    That''s what the wolf had said that day, the day Maxit had died.


    And today, today Matrill, Nox, and the other men here were going to take the role of Old Mother Hecate, killing the monster and murdering its victims.


    Today, if he did nothing, he would be a murderer, just like Old Mother Hecate.


    He shook his head vigorously, trying to chase away the ghosts of atrocities past.


    "Refenial..." He heard Nox quietly say as if he was trying to soothe him.


    "No! if there are people who are alive in there, even if they''re suffering, what right do we have to murder them." Refenial said, looking at the group, and in that moment, he saw their fear, their desire to take the easy path, the safe path.


    They were all like Old Mother Hecate, self-serving. At least the old crone had been honest in her selfishness.


    "Refenial, this is our only chance to stop whatever monster is in there. If the monster isn''t in there, then we might be able to rescue people, but if the monster gets out, then others will probably die." Nox said, a sad look in his eyes.


    Maybe, he was right. Maybe Nox''s reasoning was the safe, logical choice. He wondered if maybe every decision Old Mother Hecate had made in her life had been the safe, logical choice, one after another, until murdering children and slaughtering villages had become the safe, logical choice.


    Was that how monsters were born? Perhaps, at least, the sort of monster that wore a human face and lived a human life. How many people were like that, would sit and talk, smile and curse, laugh and cry, live a humdrum mundane life till the day a decision came, and they decided it was safer and more logical to discard their humanity than it was to be a good person.


    Matrill spoke, but Refenial paid it no heed, his mind already set.


    "Nia, I need to do something, and I need your help." He spoke quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth faster than his conscious mind could process.


    Nia looked sceptically at him "Wha-"


    He interrupted her "There''s no time to explain, please, for once, I need someone I can trust. I''m going to do something that seems crazy, but I need to. I have to. Please!"


    "What do you need?" She asked.


    "I''ve got to get into that house, don''t let anyone stop me."


    Nia''s eyes went wide with fearful realization. "Wha- but th-." Her gaze hardened, and she looked down at him with a grim calm. "Fine, but you better not die, Reffy."


    Refenial turned, and he began to sprint towards the crooked house as he saw Nia turn to face the group, wand raised out of the corner of his eye.


    The horrific house loomed in front of him, a twisted parody of homeliness. Doors and windows stuck onto the house at odd angles of its twisted frame. The house was a warped amalgamation of the wood and stone used to build the other houses. Wrents, gaps and odd jutting-out pieces of lumber gave the feeling that you could almost see into the house''s dark interior if you were to only peek in a bit closer.


    He slowed as he reached the house, keeping his steps as light as possible on the snowy ground. He crept quickly and quietly to a large window that looked like it had been ripped out of whatever wall had once held it. It sat about a foot and a half off the ground. Its frame was warped by cruel treatment. The shutters were closed, but he could see they were only fastened with string on the inside.


    His dagger still in hand from entering the village, he slid it between the large gap in the shutters, easily slicing the string. The poorly set shutters gently surrendered to gravity as they fell open.


    Refenial looked back at the group. Nia stood there defiantly, her wand raised to ward back the group. He hoped he was making the right decision, doing the right thing. Nia was annoying at times. She snored. She called him ''Reffy'' because she knew he hated it and she owed him a lot of money, but he had chosen to not take the easy path, and if he failed now, he knew she might pay the price.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.He would do what it took to protect her from his decisions.


    Nox caught his eye, and he felt the young man''s eyes upon him. He could see the sadness on his face. Nox looked like a man who was watching a friend die. Refenial could understand that feeling, but he hoped that Nox''s fears were misplaced.


    He looked away and stepped through the window into the dark interior of the house.


    The inside was dark, with looming silhouettes of furniture making uneasy shapes across his vision. While his sight was underwhelmed, by contrast, his sense of smell was overwhelmed. The building reeked like the smell of rotting meat was part of its very foundations.


    He heard the occasional fly buzzing around the room. Even in the cold weather, they seemed drawn to feast on whatever was rotting in this house.


    He half closed his eyes and sunk back into himself. He could feel a slight flutter from the thing in his soul as it moved slightly. It was always watching and waiting for that moment of weakness.


    He opened his soul''s eyes, and the world lit up in unearthly colours as motes of mana danced colourfully in the deformed house.


    The room he was in had two crooked doorways leading out. Out of one, he could see distant stairs leading up into the unknown.


    The room itself was of indeterminate purpose. Several chairs and a stool were strewn broken across the floor as if thrown violently into the room. A wooden slab of a table sat in one corner, leaning precariously on one side where it was missing a leg.


    The floor was covered with dead grass, the monster not even bothering to weed the dirt floor before building the twisted house on this spot.


    The colours of his vision were too different for him to identify what they were with certainty, but dark stains were splashed across the walls, ceiling, floor and furniture.


    He crept forwards towards the doorway that didn''t lead to the stairs. It would be safer to clear the downstairs before worrying about the upstairs.


    His heart beating, and the sharp sound of his breathing felt uncomfortably loud in the silence of the house.


    Even though the door was open, it was only by a narrow crack. He pressed his head to the doorframe, the feeling of rough wood on his cheek as he looked through.


    On the other side, he saw it. A large figure sat open-legged on the ground with its back to him. It was bulky and fat but looked almost human from this angle. A woman''s straw sunhat, much, much too small for its prodigious frame, sat balanced precariously on its head.


    The figure moved slightly, and Refenial tensed, afraid he''d been discovered. Thankfully the monster seemed to just be fidgeting to get more comfortable as it picked something off the ground and began eating.


    From this position, he could make the figure out more clearly. It was a pig monster. Its body was no less of an abomination than the house, a nightmarish hybrid between a human female and a sow.


    As Refenial watched, he noticed movement from deeper in the room, from behind the monster. An old man was sat on the floor, next to him were...


    Refenial recoiled slightly at the remains of the monster''s meals next to the man trying not to take in their details. The man moved feebly and strangely. Refenial realized the man''s arms and legs were bound. The monster also seemed to notice the old man''s movements and looked at him.


    "Something wrong, sweetie?" The monster asked. Its voice was soft and kindly. If Refenial had closed his eyes and listened to it, he would have found it no different than the voice of a normal young woman.


    The monster looked down at what she was eating and then back up to the old man. "Awww, do you miss your wife, or are you hungry?" The monster gave a giggle of girlish glee. "Well, don''t worry, sweetie, you''ll be going where she went soon enough." The monster patted its stomach and giggled again.


    He had to do something, but what? His systematic magic might make him faster and stronger than a normal 11-year-old, but he wasn''t any tougher. He was sure that giggling horror could rip him apart in a few seconds if he gave it a chance.


    He could use his dagger, but the monster was so rotund he wasn''t confident he could hit any of its vital spots.


    He looked around the room he was in for inspiration before settling on a plan. Putting his dagger away, he carefully looked through the wrecked chairs picking up a large and jagged broken chair leg.


    Next, he pulled his whistle out of his pouch.


    He moved back to the door frame peering through the gap again. The monster was sat there still eating.


    He tried to ready himself for the coming fight. This wasn''t like with the wolf or the muggers who''d cornered him. He could still run, sneak out of the house, let the adults burn it down. That option felt so tempting, so easy. Safety was only a few steps away. Why fight a life-or-death battle when you can just walk away?


    He shook his head to get rid of those thoughts. No, he''d made his decision. It was do or die, and in the next few moments, either he, the monster or maybe both would be dying.


    He thought about how he''d felt in those moments when he''d fought for his life, cycling the feeling over and over again in his mind until he was ready to act.


    He put the whistle to his lips as he readied to infuse it with mana and blow.


    His breath caught in his throat for one last moment before he blew a loud, clear mana infused note on the whistle.


    The painful sound filled the air, the old man went limp, and the monster fell backwards, lying spread-eagled on the ground, momentarily stunned by the noise.


    Refenial burst into the room, sending the door smashing open with a loud crack. He couldn''t keep his soul eyes open while moving so fast, but his normal eyes had adjusted to the dingy light of the house.


    The monster lay on the ground, its head the nearest part to Refenial. He launched himself forwards until he stood over the beast, looking down.


    The monster''s almost human eyes looked up at him, fearful and pleading for mercy, as the grotesque being lay there dazed. To the side, he saw its arm twitch, and he knew he had no time to pause, no time to empathize with a man-eating monster.


    He slammed the spike of wood down onto the monster''s neck, once, twice, thrice. The air was heavy with the smell of blood, and he could taste something salty on his lips.


    He looked down, and the monster''s dead eyes looked up.


    [Rank up!]


    [Rank up!]


    Refenial paid the messages no heed.


    He dropped the bloody wood and stepped wearily towards the old man, who was looking at him with almost as much fear as he had shown the monster.


    Refenial knelt by the man, trying not to look at the bodies next to him and pulled his dagger out, cutting the rope that bound his legs and arms.


    The man still seemed terrified. "You''re safe now," Refenial said in a tired voice as the adrenaline began leaving his body.


    The man pulled the rope that was gagging him free from his mouth with panicked shaky movements. "What..." The man gave a dry cough. "What about the other two monsters?" He asked fearfully.


    Refenial felt like his veins had turned to ice at the man''s words.


    The stairs.


    He hadn''t checked upstairs because he thought there was only one monster.


    He heard a bestial roar from the floor above, followed by another much deeper roar. The roars were wild, angry and promised blood.

 Chapter 028 -The rampage-

    Nox watched the twisted building. Every muscle in his body taut like an overdrawn bow. His eyes began to sting, and he realized he''d been so focused that he''d stopped blinking.


    Refenial was in there. He should have stopped him, somehow. Even if it meant he risked being exposed and killed for being a ghoul. He should have stopped him.


    The rest of the group was also watching with concerned expressions.


    Nia stood there, wand now lowered as she looked at the awful structure, her mouth wavering slightly.


    One long minute stretched out after another as they waited. Nox''s body only growing more tense as the seconds stretched on.


    Perhaps he should follow Refenial now. Maybe Nia wouldn''t stop him. He looked over at Nia, her face was tight, and her eyes looked wet. She seemed to be just as worried despite her bravado moments before.


    That was it. He couldn''t wait any longer. He began walking towards the house and noticed Nia had started to walk too.


    They only made it a half dozen steps before a shrill sound split the air. Nox grabbed his ears in pain. Nia fell to one knee as she gasped out.


    Nox forced himself to keep standing, and after a moment, the sound stopped.


    He looked back and saw Matrill and the other men from the caravan were shaken by the sound, most lying on the ground but otherwise fine. Nia pulled herself up and began to run towards the house. Nox started running as well.


    They reached the window that Refenial had climbed through at the same moment.


    Nox crouched down to look into the open window. As he did, he heard something from deep within the house let out a monstrous roar followed moments later by a second roar from a different unnatural voice within the house.


    Nia began climbing through the window. It was too narrow for both of them, so he was forced to wait. He heard a sound behind them and turned, realizing it was the flat-footed steps of Helus.


    Nia paused halfway through the window.


    "Hurry up!" He hissed at her even though he knew she probably wouldn''t understand the words.


    Nia began climbing back out of the window. Nox leaned across, trying to see why she was retreating.


    As she pulled back, he saw a ruined room inside. Refenial was there half carrying, half dragging an elderly man. "Quick, it''s coming down the stairs!" Refenial said as he roughly shoved the man towards the window.


    Nox and Nia grabbed the man and began to haul him out through the window.


    The elderly man was dirty and covered with dried blood. Whatever had happened to him must have been awful.


    There was another snarling roar, this time from near the other side of the window. Refenial dived through the window landing awkwardly on his shoulder. The snow likely the only thing saving him from breaking it.


    A heartbeat later, a gargantuan bristly pink-skinned hand swiped through the window at where Refenial had just been.


    Nox heard the sound of squeaking hinges above him and remembered a second too late the door that opened into the air on the floor above.


    He looked up and saw something pink and fleshy bearing down on him.


    He heard a wordless cry from behind him and felt hands on his shoulder and side as someone pushed him out of danger.


    He stumbled from being shoved and fell forwards, twisting as he did. He saw Helus behind him, having pushed him out of danger. Nox let out his own cry of surprise, realizing he''d been saved by the man he hated, the man who, if he knew the truth, would kill Nox.


    Nox hit the ground hard but scrambled to get up. Now was not the time to worry about injuries. He rose in time to see the monster that had got the drop on him. It was a large pig monster. It walked on its hind legs, its body an unholy union of porcine and human anatomy. As it moved, rolls of fat jiggled across its body, and its cruel tusked face sported a bristly black beard.


    Denied its target of Nox, it turned on Helus, grabbing the obsessively pious man by one of his arms and the collar of his clothes.


    Nia dropped her wand and pulled out her dagger as she ran towards the monster holding Helus but let out a half squeal half scream as the monster reaching through the window grabbed her ankle, pulling her over and towards its shadowy refuge.


    Nox dived towards the ground, grabbing the monstrous arm that held Nia.


    He hit it with his full ghoulish strength. Knowing that a single blow from him could kill a man. The arm barely flinched and just carried on dragging Nia.


    He grabbed the arm tightly, wedging his legs against a stone that made up part of the side of the house as he pushed against it. His bones creaked, and his muscles burned as he fought, his whole body against the monster''s arm.


    The stone he was pushing against made a grinding sound as it slid back slightly under the pressure but then held as the house groaned under the force.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Nia screamed out, her leg being crushed in the powerful monster''s grasp.


    To the side, he could see the other monster standing tall, Helus''s feet dangling impotently as the monster held him in the air.


    There was the sound of snapping bone as the monster pressed its thumb forwards, snapping the man''s forearm like a dry twig.


    In the distance, the men of the caravan were running, but they were still too far away to help.


    He saw Refenial charge wildly, dagger in hand, towards the monster that held Helus but had to look back down as he felt the monster he was holding braced itself and begin pulling harder.


    Inch by inch, Nox was losing the struggle. Nia looked at him, her eyes half mad with fear and terror as she knew that too.


    Dagger in her hand, she stabbed down on the monstrous arm in a life-or-death frenzy again and again.


    There was a roar of pain from within the house, and the hand let go.


    Nox let go of the hand, losing his balance and falling to the ground in the chaotic madness of the fight.


    He launched himself forward from all fours like a sprinter. He grabbed Nia by the shoulder as he ran. His fingers bit deeply enough into her that he knew he''d drawn blood, but survival came before all consideration of comfort.


    He shot by the monster that was outside the house, as it threw Helus forwards. Refenial had somehow got himself onto the monster''s back and was screaming wildly while he stabbed again and again at its wide back.


    Matrill, who was leading the pack of caravaneers, drew level with him just as Nox came to a stop looking back at the house.


    There was a crashing sound as the pig monster that had been in the house burst through the wall, its arm bloody from Nia''s dagger and its breath heavy.


    The monster with Refenial on its back swatted at the boy, it managed only a glancing blow against the side of the boy''s head, but he tumbled onto the ground below.


    It turned to look down at Refenial, Nox dropping the wounded Nia roughly to the ground, charged back at the monster and crossed paths with Matrill, who was also charging, axe raised, at the monster that had just burst through the side of the house.


    Nox''s target had its back to him as it looked down at Refenial, who was struggling to stand. Across the beast''s back, he could easily see two dozen shallow bleeding dagger wounds where Refenial had launched his frenzied assault.


    Nox launched himself at the monster, kicking at the back of its legs as he grabbed at its neck.


    The monster staggered uncertainly under his attack for a moment before falling backwards and landing on Nox.


    Nox involuntarily let out a choking breath as he felt the monster''s heavy weight on him, winding him.


    He held on with every ounce of strength as dots danced in front of his eyes, and his muscles screamed out for air he couldn''t provide.


    He heard the sounds of others moving around him, attacking the monster in his arms, but he couldn''t focus on anything beyond holding on. After several moments he felt the monster''s movements slow and stop.


    He released his grip as he tried to breathe while also looking around.


    Refenial and several caravaneers stood around him and the monster, their weapons bloodied.


    There was a roar from nearby, and he saw Matrill in a desperate fight with the monster that had burst through the wall.


    Matrill''s axe swung in tight arcs, scoring minor blows against the tough monster, but the pain seemed to only enrage the beast further as it advanced on the one-eyed man.


    Refenial and the caravaneers began moving towards the fight to help.


    Nox tried to move, but he was pinned by the heavy corpse of the monster. His shuddering breaths do him no favours.


    He pushed again, moving the body slightly.


    He focused on sucking in air for a few moments before pushing the body off him with one last heave.


    He rolled over and stood, bent double and coughing so hard he thought he might be sick. His head swam from suddenly standing while still oxygen deprived. He took several drunken half steps to stop himself from keeling back over.


    He looked up as he forced his body straight. The monster was surrounded by Matrill, Refenial and the caravaneers. It lashed out with vicious swings of its porcine arms as the figures dodged its deadly blows by the tiniest of margins.


    He needed to end this, he needed to end this now, or someone would die.


    He saw Nia''s long dagger that had been dropped on the ground in the chaos. He stumbled to it, picking it up.


    With concentration, he focused on the fight. He was at the limits of his stamina. He''d have one shot at this. If he attacked the beast and failed, then there was no guarantee he''d get another shot, especially another shot before someone died.


    He focused entirely on the moment, running towards the pig monster with every ounce of strength he had. As he passed between Refenial and Matrill, who both looked at him with surprise, he leapt into the air, swinging the dagger down in an icepick grip towards the monster''s head.


    The dagger met flesh, then bone, then brain as it punctured the monster''s skull.


    Exhausted and weakened, Nox flubbed the landing smacking hard into the snow, knocking what little wind was in his lungs out again.


    He lay there on the snow fighting for air and vomited, turning the white snow yellow.


    Nox wasn''t sure how long he lay there in the hell of oxygen-starved exhaustion, but he sensed Refenial come over. The boy was still breathing heavily as he helped Nox sit up.


    The sun was beginning to set, turning half the sky a warm orange-red.


    "Th... th..." Nox realized he was still too winded to speak, so he gave a tired pat of thanks on Refenial''s arm.


    The boy smiled, but the smile didn''t reach his eyes. Nox wondered what was going through Refenial''s mind right now. What carnage had the young boy seen in the house?


    He had seen the crazed determination that Refenial had fought with while clinging to the monster''s back. What could turn a child into such a fearless monster slayer? He''d seen grown men wet themselves over monsters half as dangerous.


    He wondered what the boy would become as an adult, assuming his reckless behaviour didn''t get him killed before then. He looked at the smiling Refenial. The boy''s eyes held a hardness there that made Nox shudder slightly. In those eyes, he could see a hint of the future. If this boy met his potential, then maybe even immortals would cower in fear of his wrath.


    Nox realized Matrill had approached and was standing next to them. The Retired warrior silently handed Nox a canteen of water. Nox rinsed his mouth out with it, then drank deeply, not realizing how thirsty he''d become.


    He handed the now empty canteen back to Matrill.


    "A couple of the men, those with the stomach for it, are going to look in the house and see if there are any other survivors," Matril said matter of factly.


    Nox nodded.


    "What if there''s more monsters?" Refenial asked.


    Matrill shook his head. "Not likely. They''d have attacked at the same time. Also, monsters working together like this isn''t common."


    There was silence again for a time.


    "We''re going to bring the caravan up into the walls. Even with the monsters dead, most are wanting a little extra protection tonight."


    Nox nodded again, too tired for words.


    He heard a sound and saw two caravaneers exiting the monster''s crooked house. The first led a woman who looked no older than thirty, her clothes a bloody mess, her hair a tangled ball of dirt. Where her left hand should be, there were only bloody rags. The second was carrying a boy that looked no older than thirteen. The boy lacked a foot on one leg and anything below the knee on the other leg. Red-soaked rags covering the stumps.


    What Nox knew he would remember more than anything, what he knew would haunt his nightmares most of all, was the looks on their gaunt, tired and dirty faces. Their eyes were wide as if in horror, but the rest of their faces sat in disconcertingly neutral expressions as the two victims looked forwards passively as if nothing was left of their minds, their sanity torn apart by whatever the monsters had done to them.

 Chapter 029 -Sympathy for the devil-

    Refenial sat next to Nia on the bench, watching the fire. He glanced over at the crutch he''d bought her.


    "I''m sure my leg will be fine in a few weeks," Nia said, but her voice was flat, and Refenial didn''t even think she believed that, not really.


    "I''m sorry," Refenial said, trying to keep the unending waves of guilt from his face.


    Nia shook her head, "you did what you thought was right." She looked at him seriously. "Reffy, I chose my own actions every step of the way. Don''t take responsibility for my choices."


    "I''ll make it right. I''ll find a way of getting your leg healed." He already had ideas of how to make his statement a reality.


    Nia shrugged. "I''m sure you will. If nothing else, I bet this magic academy you''re going to has some way of fixing it up."


    Refenial looked across at Helus, his arm in a sling. "What did the healer say about your arm?" He asked the man.


    Helus smiled. "Apparently, both the bones in my forearm are completely shattered. But once I''m ordained as a full member of the Systemic Order''s priesthood, I will be entitled to full healing for injuries like this from the Order."


    He''d saved three lives; he didn''t regret that, not for a moment. What he regretted was how close people came to dying to achieve that. What he regretted was that two people had to be injured to make that happen, especially Nia.


    "Where is Nox? He seemed a little down. Perhaps I should check on him?" Helus said brightly.


    "I saw him heading towards the far wall of the village a little while ago. I''ll check on him." Refenial said, standing.


    "Where are you going?" Nia asked, her voice holding a hint of nervousness.


    "I''m just going to check on Nox," Refenial reassured her.


    Refenial stepped away from the camp''s lights and into the night, towards the ruined village''s dark side. He opened his soul''s eyes as he slowly walked forwards, allowing him to see into the night.


    It didn''t take him long to find Nox. He was sitting leaning forwards on a log. He was holding a large clay jug that he was dangling between his legs.


    Nox looked up, the ghoul''s night vision clearly having no trouble in spotting Refenial.


    "Mnh." Nox grunted, then took a large swig from his jug.


    Refenial approached and sat down next to the man. The smell of booze drifted off of Nox in the cold night air.


    Nox held his jug out towards Refenial, then after a moment, he pulled it back again. "Damn it, I keep forgetting you''re just a kid," Nox said, slurring slightly as he spoke.


    Nox gave Refenial an odd look. "Y''know, you''re so damn serious all the time." Nox seemed to consider his statement for a moment, "well, except when you aren''t, I suppose."


    "Nia''s leg looks pretty bad," Refenial said sadly.


    "They look pretty good t-" Nox paused as he looked down towards Refenial. He cleared his throat. "Do you regret it? Y''know, going in the fucked-up house to save those people?"


    Refenial considered that for a moment. Did he? Did he regret his actions?


    He shook his head. "No, it was the right thing to do. That''s not what I regret."


    "What then?" Nox asked, giving Refenial a suspicious look.


    Refenial sighed, "I''m weak. My mistake wasn''t trying to save people. My mistake was being weak. If I was stronger, if I was stronger than Nia and Helus wouldn''t have got hurt. No one else would have had to fight the monsters."


    "Bullshit!" Nox opined loudly, making Refenial cringe back slightly in surprise.


    "What?" Refenial asked, confused by the response.


    "Bull...shit. You''re eleven. You helped fight and kill two monsters that could rip a grown man apart. I saw you on that thing''s back, stabbing away. That''s more than most did in the fight."


    "There were actually three monsters. But that is-"


    Nox wrinkled his brow and took another swig.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    "There was another one in the house that I killed before coming out."


    Nox gave him a blank look, "how?"


    "I stunned it with my whistle and then stabbed it with a broken chair leg."


    "How many people do you think lived in this village?" Nox asked him.


    "I dunno, 30-40?"


    "Those three monsters were able to kill an entire village, and you killed one single-handedly, badly wounded the second and helped take down the third. I''m a cursed being with supernatural strength, and I did less than you, an eleven-year-old boy."


    "yeah, but I was still too weak to protect everyone. Nia got hurt."


    "Nia got hurt." Nox parroted back to him, "Nia can make her own decisions. She''s an adult. A very beautiful adult that..." Nox paused as he stared vacantly into the night.


    "I forgot my point." He admitted after a moment.


    "You don''t get it, Nox. Look at how people are. Look at Matrill, willing to burn that place down even though he knew there were people still inside. People take the safe and logical option time and time again. They let others suffer because they''re too weak to do the right thing. The world doesn''t care if I''m tough for an eleven-year-old. It doesn''t care about right or wrong, good or evil. I care. I care about those things. I can''t just walk away and take the easy option. I can''t control the world, but I can control myself. I can become strong, strong enough to protect those I care about, strong enough to not need to give in to the constant little compromises to evil that people do to live." Refenial paused for a breath and realized he''d been ranting.


    Nox slowly sipped at his jug, avoiding eye contact with Refenial as he did. he lowered the jug wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.


    "Do you think people can ever reach the point where they no longer have to compromise to protect themselves and their loved ones, to always be able to do the right thing? That''s assuming knowing what''s right is even easy to begin with."


    Refenial considered Nox''s words. "Even if I fall short, the stronger I get, the more I can do to make good decisions. If I''d been too weak to stand up and act against you and the others, you would have burned down that house. Maybe I couldn''t stop Nia from being hurt today, but I saved three lives, and maybe next time, next time, I will be strong enough."


    Nox smirked at Refenial. "When you say it like that, I almost believe you."


    Refenial smiled at Nox''s words.


    "Oh, Helus was worried about you."


    Nox, who''d been mid-sip, sprayed booze onto the snow.


    Nox looked down at the jug, his expression growing dark. "Fuck Helus." He said in a slow murderous tone.


    Refenial watched the man, surprised by his venomous response.


    Nox spoke, "He believes in everything that the Systemic Order preaches, all their awful views. He''d quite happily see my entire family tortured and killed if he knew I was a ghoul. I hate him and every one of his monstrous cult."


    Nox took several deep gulps from his jug, seemingly finishing it.


    He spoke again. "I thought I hated him before when I thought he was irredeemably evil, but he saved me from that monster. He risked his life to save me even though he knows I hate him.


    That''s worse. It''s worse now because I know he''s capable of good. He can be good, yet he spouts that evil drivel with a smile on his face."


    With his face twisted in a hateful grimace, Nox raised his hand containing the jug high and threw it hard with all his unnatural strength. The jug shattered on a rock sending shards of pottery flying.


    Nox held his head in his hands, "Sorry, I''m sorry, Refenial." He said softly.


    Refenial looked up, searching the cloudy sky for any hint of the moon, "Remember the day we met. I asked you about why the others hated Nia so much, and you told me it was because they feared the unknown. Wouldn''t those same caravaneers have hated you if they''d known you were a ghoul?"


    Nox looked up, a sardonic smile on his face. "Probably. No, certainly. The difference is their hate is unthinking and predictable. They hate because it''s easier than understanding, not because they actually care or have thought through their position. Helus, oh, Helus and the whole Order, they''re another beast entirely. They''re not scared peasants hiding from the unknown."


    Refenial thought he saw a glimpse of the moon for a brief moment between the clouds. "So what are you going to do?"


    Nox opened and closed his hands for several long moments before he spoke. "What can I do? I can''t make Helus a better or a worse person than he really is. I will get up tomorrow, curse myself for drinking this much, cringe at this conversation and get on with my life, one moment to the next."


    "Helus will want to check on you; make sure you''re ok."


    Nox chuckled darkly. "I considered killing him tonight more than once. Maybe it''d make the world a better place if there was less people like him in the world..."


    Refenial listened as the words hung in the air, an unspoken ''but'' clearly hidden at the end.


    After an uncomfortably long moment, Nox spoke again. "But, even if it would make the world a better place, I''m not a murderer. Once I start going down that line, there are so many people, awful people in the world. Once I started, I''m not sure if I''d know where to stop. Maybe it''s selfish of me, maybe I could make the world better, but I know I''d make myself a worse person."


    Refenial didn''t have an answer to anything Nox was saying, so he sat in silence.


    Nox pulled himself into a rigid upright sitting position. "Ugh, I''m sorry, I''m making a mess of all of this. It''s not fair that I''m burdening you with all this. Don''t worry, though. To answer your question, when Helus checks up on me, I will treat him no more or less than how I treated him before, with anger and contempt but with civility. I''ll do it not because it''s the right answer but because I''m not sure there is a right answer."


    Nox stood stretching, "I''ve drunk too much, it''s been a long day, and I''m tired. I''m going to bed. Are you coming back to the camp?"


    Refenial shook his head, "No."


    Nox looked down at him.


    "No, I want to sit quietly for a bit. We''re inside the village walls. There''s no risk of monster attack tonight."


    Nox nodded. "Night." He said as he wandered off, staggering slightly.


    Refenial waited until he was sure the ghoul was long gone before pulling out the silver bell. He looked down at it as it caught a hint of moonlight on its surface.


    He''d held off, held off on accepting Griselda''s help out of fear. After today, he knew he couldn''t let fear hold him back any more. Maybe Griselda was one more monster in the dark, but unless he was willing to step into the dark with her, he''d never know for sure.


    He held the bell between two fingers and gently rung it as he guided Mana into it. The sound the bell made was gentle and delicate.


    He stopped ringing it after a moment, the silence seeming to fill the void of noise.


    There was a flap of wings, and a crow landed on the snow in front of him. It turned its head in silent curiosity.


    Refenial stared back, knowing this was his last moment, his last moment to put the bell away and close the door on trusting Griselda.


    "I need something to heal Nia''s leg and something that explains stats."


    K-kaw, the crow squawked in assent before taking flight into the night.


    Refenial looked up, seeing the moon clearly through a break in the clouds, though he was unsure if this was a good omen or bad.

 Chapter 030 -The aftermath-

    Helus, the closest thing the caravan had to a priest, said a few words of comfort and mourning to the crowd gathered in quiet contemplation in front of the twisted house. Refenial stood with them in respectful silence, watching as people performed their solemn duty, lighting the house aflame with torches that flickered in the morning air.


    He watched as the house began to burn, to be reduced to nothing but ash, dust, and memories best forgotten. Though his eyes outwardly watched the cleansing flames, his focus was turned inwards to the sight, sounds and smell of the terrible place.


    No one had wanted to sift through the house to try to piece together the bodies. The caravaneers and three survivors wanted to see the house remain standing even less. It was a horrific folly, a stain upon the world and a reminder of the evil of monsters and their twisted imitation of humanity. It had to burn, it was a wound that needed cleansing, or its existence would fester in people''s hearts and minds.


    He could feel the warmth of the fire on his face, despite the distance. In his hand, he gripped tight the tiny vial that he had found beside him when he woke. The small booklet of notes that had laid beside it had detailed stats. He''d quickly packed that away for later.


    The vial, that was what he wanted most.


    There was a creaking and crunching as the blazing house collapsed in on itself, sending embers flying high into the sky at dizzying speeds and patterns.


    He looked at Nia standing next to him, leaning heavily on her crutch.


    The vial was for her, he had asked Griselda for help, and she had responded. He knew he''d be a fool to unthinkingly trust a monster like Griselda just because she was willing to gift him things, but for now, for today, Griselda''s true intentions didn''t matter.


    Once the house had burned away and little more than tiny swaying flames sat atop the blacks and greys of its ashen remains, the caravaneers returned to their work, readying the trade caravan to move forwards once more.


    Refenial walked over to Nia, who was still standing there watching the dying fire of the house. He looked around, making sure that no one else was close enough to see or hear their conversation.


    Satisfied, he turned to her. "Nia."


    She looked down at him, "Yes, Reffy?"


    "You trusted me yesterday when I asked for your help. You risked your life for me, and you were hurt because I couldn''t protect you from the monster."


    Nia frowned irritably. "I''ve already told you I''m responsible for my own actions. You aren''t responsible for me getting hurt."


    Refenial held out his hand, the vial in it.


    "What''s that?" Nia asked, confused.


    "Medicine, it''ll heal your leg."


    Nia looked at it and laughed. "I don''t know who sold you that, but you''ve been tricked. There''s no way anyone in the caravan is carrying around some magical medicine that''ll heal my leg just like that."


    "It''s not from the caravan," Refenial said calmly.


    "Then where is it from?"


    Refenial shook his head, "There''s a lot I don''t understand myself. But I suppose, if I owe you anything, I owe you an honest answer."


    Refenial took a deep breath. "It came from an ancient crow monster, one that looks almost entirely human, called Griselda. I think she might be the Ravenous Mother from that story you told me about. She took away my friend, Obit and has been trying to get me to go live with her.


    Oh, and the woman you met, Hildegard, the woman who founded this kingdom, and the one who taught me magic and adopted me as her apprentice, told me not to trust Griselda.


    I don''t trust Hildegard, though, I saw her murder a boy, Maxit, and she killed the entire village I was living in, including Obit''s parents."


    Nia''s face went from grinning as he began to speak to shocked, her mouth hanging open.


    Refenial looked down at the vial seeing his sad face reflected back at him in the glass.


    "Those are the main parts, of course. There''s also the horror that''s hiding away in the core of my soul and the fact I have no memory before waking up a few months ago, and the fact that apparently, my soul wasn''t the original one for this body, that one is trapped inside with the horror."


    Nia just kept staring, unmoving, as Refenial looked up at her nervously.


    "Those are the main points of what I''ve been hiding from you, at least off the top of my head. So much has happened it''s getting hard to keep track..."


    Nia lunged forwards pulling him into a hug. He felt the warmth of her clothes against the skin of his face and realized he''d been crying while talking.


    Her hug felt warm in the cold morning air. He hugged her back for a long time until the tears stopped, and he could trust himself to speak again.


    He pulled back from her holding out the vial again. "Take the medicine."


    She rolled her eyes and smiled slightly, taking the bottle. "You''re just determined to make it, so I owe you more and more."


    Refenial shrugged, "Honestly, I don''t feel like you owe me anything after yesterday."


    Nia lightly cuffed him on the back of the head. "Don''t be daft. I owe you the money from the day we met. If all it takes is someone doing you a small favour and then giving you a hug for you to forgive all debts, you''re going to have trouble holding onto money."


    Refenial nodded, but his heart wasn''t in it. The scathing look she gave him showed she knew, but she said nothing. Instead, she opened the vial.


    She looked down at the red liquid inside, "So how sure are you that this isn''t poison?"


    Refenial smiled, "Griselda has been nothing but nice to me, to the point where it''s a little creepy. I''m not sure why, but I think we can trust her on this."


    Nia threw her head back as she drank the vial in a quick gulp. She looked down at the vial appreciatively. "That tasted really good. I''d have that again."


    Nia looked down at her leg, "It feels the same soooooo- ow, ow, it''s cramping, muscle cramp." Nia dropped her crutch hopping on her good leg as she massaged her injured one.


    Refenial couldn''t help but laugh at Nia''s antics.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Nia shot him back a murderous glare as she rubbed her leg. After a few moments, she stopped. "I think..." She experimentally moved her injured leg before cautiously placing it on the ground. "I think that''s better." She took a couple of cautious steps. Then a few more normal ones.


    "It worked?" Refenial asked, relieved.


    "Yep, though, people might start asking questions if I suddenly start walking normally." She picked up the crutch. "I guess I''m stuck with this for now." She said as she hobbled with the crutch.


    "That''s annoying."


    "Yeah, I''ll just pretend that my leg is getting better over the next few days. Then get rid of the crutch."


    Refenial looked over to the distance where the caravan was, "I think we''re leaving soon."


    Nia looked up from her crutch. "But we still haven''t talked about everything. You told me so much at once."


    Refenial rubbed his arm uncomfortably. "Yeah..."


    Nia gave him a knowing look, "Don''t worry, we''ll talk about it another time."


    Refenial nodded, not wanting to talk more about the past.


    "let''s go back to the coach."


    The pair walked, or in Nia''s case, pretended to hobble back to the trade caravan and sat down in the coach. Talot the Plumber was already in there, gently snoring, hat on face, when they arrived. The other passengers were yet to arrive.


    Nox was the next. Refenial hadn''t seen him yet this morning. Nox gave Refenial a sheepish and embarrassed look, clearly remembering the conversation last night, but he sat down next to Refenial, saying nothing.


    Iln arrived shortly after, giving everyone his usual judgemental glare.


    Helus was the last, he struggled slightly to get up the coach''s narrow steps with his arm in a sling, but he smiled broadly when he saw Nox.


    "Nox! I''m glad to have seen you. I was worried you might have been hurt worse than I knew." Helus said, sitting down but leaning forwards towards Nox.


    Nox grunted in response.


    "you look a little down. Perhaps if the foreign girl, Nia, promises not to get her weapon out, we could even have a little chat. I''m still sure I could win you over to the Order."


    Nox gave Helus an angry look and leaned forwards as if ready to yell at the would-be priest.


    Nox stopped, his shoulders sagging. "Thank you for saving me," Nox said haltingly as if he had to forcefully drag every word out of his unwilling mouth.


    Helus waived his good hand dismissively, "No, no, don''t thank me, thank the Systemic Order. It is only through their teachings of the wisdom of the System that good can be spread through the world."


    Nox sat back slowly and deliberately. Refenial noticed the ghoul''s hands were clasped so tightly closed that the skin had turned a shocking white.


    There was an awkward silence in the coach as no one spoke, the Palpable tension in Nox a stark contrast to the good-natured smiling of Helus.


    Refenial jumped as he heard a noise and looked over to see Matrill at the coach''s door.


    "We''re heading out," Matrill said, returning the step from the ground to its hooks.


    Within a few minutes, the coach, still wreathed in silence, was on the move again.


    Refenial looked out of the window. The last wisps of smoke from the burnt house were slowly drifting apart as they floated uncertainly above the ruins of the village.


    As he looked, he noticed something else, in between the patches of snow that littered the ground by the road, there were hints of green, the first shoots of a new year.


    Refenial smiled, it had been a long and brutal winter, but soon, spring would come.


    He turned away from the window. He knew he had so much to still do. He was still weak, much too weak.


    He pulled out the music book and carefully slid the booklet Griselda had left him about stats inside so no one, especially Helus, could see what he was reading.


    The booklet was short, and most of it seemed less than useful, but he soon found a page detailing everything he needed to know.


    While Systemic magic is most famous for its extraordinary abilities and skills, it gives its wielder a wide range of boons, from the ability to speak almost any language to incredible healing abilities.


    Most scholars believe the most significant boon is actually to be found within the stats.


    A high-ranked user is capable of feats that will strain the credulity of all around. Take, for example, Resilience, seen by many as the least overtly showy of the physical stats.


    Adin Starfire was a user who invested heavily in this trait despite his title seeming to be specialized in some form of teleportation magic.


    Adin would, during war, teleport himself as well as large boulders high into the sky above enemy positions. He would then fall to the ground riding the boulder at terrifying, magically enhanced speeds.


    Despite the fact that these dramatic attacks could kill entire armies and level castles, many reports state Adin was able to walk away with at most minor bruises and burns due to his focus on the Resilience stat.


    While many scholars and learned gentlemen have spent decades studying the stats trying to deduce a mathematical theorem by which their effects and abilities can be quantified and codified, to date, all have failed.


    One trait noticed most consistently by these experts, however, is that stats seem to range in effectiveness depending on the capabilities and proclivities of the user.


    For example, users already noted to be particularly dexterous before gaining their title seem to gain more from each point of stat gained in agility.


    Users who exercise regularly have also been noted to have much greater strength than those that don''t, even with the same amount invested into power.


    I will now list what is known of each stat. While all have been researched, some are much better understood than others.


    Fate


    Out of all the stats, non are less understood and less documented than Fate.


    Investing points in Fate seems to have little to no apparent immediate effect, unlike the other stats.


    Some have theorized that the stat is in some way broken, a belief deemed heretical by the Systemic Order.


    Others have noticed that a number of titled who have invested in the stat have met legendarily unpleasant ends. Those tend to argue that Fate is, in fact, a cursed stat.


    A third theory, and the most popular one, is that Fate somehow magnifies your destiny. If this theory is true, it would make this stat an uncertain gamble at best.


    If a user was fated to be a great warrior, by investing in this, they become much greater than they otherwise would have. However, if they are fated to a life of tragedy, they are guaranteeing that their life will be dramatically worse.


    Charm


    Charm seems to hold its dominion mostly over the use of certain skills and powers, most notably powers that seek to befuddle, confound, bewitch and beguile others. Because of this, charm is often an all or nothing which titled either invest in heavily or ignore completely.


    That isn''t it''s only use those who do invest often seem to develop a gift for convincing others and making friends, though this effect is much more subtle than many of the physical stats.


    Mana


    It is said by those who practice true magic that all magic requires mana. All powers granted by Systemic magic also use this ethereal energy.


    Users who invest in mana are unsurprisingly able to more effectively and quickly draw in mana. This has the effect of allowing true magic users to cast more powerful spells as well as magnifying the power of any System granted powers the user may possess.


    This is a popular choice for titled who rely on their powers but struggle to increase their power''s rank.


    Reason


    Reason, along with Cunning- which we shall address below- is a mental stat. Users who invest in this stat show a much-increased capacity for memory retention, problem-solving, and resolving issues that follow clear, logical frameworks such as those of law or mathematics.


    Many true magic users who use scriptic magic rely heavily on this to ensure the accuracy of their spellforms. It is also popular among those with more academic leanings.


    Cunning


    Cunning is a valuable stat with an unfortunate reputation, those users who invest heavily in Cunning report a fluidity and speed of thought that can verge on the fantastical.


    This has led to the stat being very popular among Titled of less reputable dispositions, which has tainted its reputation.


    In some ways, Cunning even overlaps with Reason, such as when it comes to mathematics. Someone focused on Reason might be able to quickly solve a problem due to the gift it gives them with logical systems. Someone focused on cunning, however, may be able to solve the problem just by being able to think so fast, even if their mathematical skills are more limited.


    Resilience


    Resilience is a seemingly straightforward stat, but it possesses many hidden boons.


    While most noticeably, it increases a user''s resistance to damage - to ludicrous degrees if invested in heavily enough. It also has many minor boons.


    Users report healing faster, getting sick less or not at all, and in many cases, increased lifespans, on occasion reaching as high as 170 years.


    Almost all titled invest partially in this stat. Few, however, make it their focus due to its passive nature.


    Agility


    Agility is a straightforward stat that increases the skill with which a user can manipulate their body.


    This skill is popular both among artisans and those of a more martial disposition.


    Power


    Like Agility, Power is a straightforward stat. Users invested in this stat show increased physical strength.


    It is often said that investing too heavily in this stat without also investing in Resilience can lead to the body tearing itself apart under its own strength. However, there are no documented cases to say if this is definitively true since most who invest in power typically also require a great deal of Resilience.

 Chapter 031 -The Fae market-

    The woodland was quiet and still, the first few new leaves boldly poking out of trees.


    Hildegard paid the forest no mind. Instead, her focus was on the two menhirs in front of her.


    These were different from the ones that marked the location of the ruins Refenial had woke in. These looked wild and overgrown with moss and lichen. The stones, once cut deep, had long been worn away, making their carvings meaning hard to discern.


    They were also a cool blue-grey, lacking the iron ore rust red of those menhirs.


    She''d had a bad week. No, she''d had a bad month.


    She''d relied on many rare artefacts and a wealth of obscurities collected from lifetimes worth of living. With those items, she''d reached the zenith of her power long after her magical edge was blunted with age.


    She was in her magical prime again. Combined with those artefacts, she would have power enough to terrify her enemies, to terrify Griselda.


    As her power had waned further and further, she''d reached a point where she had realized she lacked the strength to protect her treasures.


    She had chosen instead to hide them across a multitude of locations, protected by secrecy to all but her closest confidants.


    With her return, she''d expected to find most still as she''d left them untouched and whole.


    Her expectations had not been met.


    The list of suspects had been small, time making it smaller still. She''d narrowed it down to one name through blood and threats.


    Her eyes narrowed angrily.


    She casually conjured a plain iron dagger. There was nothing special about the weapon. There didn''t need to be. It was no different than any dagger found in ten-thousand hands across the world.


    She gently held it in the thick, magically enhanced glove she wore as protection over her beringed hand. To commit the act she was about to without protection would be a pointless folly.


    She began to weave the spellform of one of the most complicated and advanced spells she knew. After an hour, she was satisfied with her creation.


    Next, she began to fill it with mana. This took so much more than the spell she had used to destroy the village.


    Magic flowed most easily when retelling a narrative truth of the universe, a fact well-known to those of magical scholarship.


    All things drift towards entropy, that was a fundamental law of the universe. The spell that had destroyed the village was simply a dramatic retelling of that truth.


    This spell, however, this spell was a perversion of the natural order, a direct denial of reality, at least it would be for the place she was about to step into.


    The air glowed gently around her with sourceless light. Raw mana made visible in some small way. This strange trait of mana was only made manifest during the most incredible feats of magic or during duels between the greatest of immortals.


    Sweat trickled down her brow as the strain took its toll, but she was too stubborn to stop, too determined. It had taken her days to track down one of the constantly shifting entrances to this place. She refused to step back, unsatisfied now she stood on the brink.


    As the last of the mana locked into place, the spell resolved into the dagger. It looked no different than from before she''d begun, but the spell had worked, a piece of magic so audacious that it bordered on the mythic. She sagged, almost collapsing to the floor as the pressure of the work suddenly released.


    She took a long breath and then straightened herself tall and proper, the spell wouldn''t last long, and she didn''t have the time to indulge the tiredness she felt from casting.


    She stepped between the menhirs. As she did, she felt the dagger tug back in her hand, rejected by the fundamental laws of the reality on the other side. She pulled it through with unyielding determination, unwilling to let such laws hold her back.


    She stepped out into a new plane of existence.


    Around her was a tranquil forest. Rich golden light bathed the tall trees upon which leaves sat of every shade and form imaginable.


    A gentle breeze caressed all as it passed, leaving a calming, soothing rustle of leaves.


    The air was rich with an ineffable scent that sang of gentle autumn days, laughter with friends and happy memories of a childhood that she had never lived.


    Nestled cosily beneath the trees was a marketplace stretching out deep into the forest. The stalls were brightly decorated with sheets of fabric, and every hue imaginable merged across the stalls in a mosaic of colour.


    This was the Fae Marketplace.


    Figures leisurely strolled or tended stalls throughout the place, slender and beautiful beings that walked with an incomprehensible grace that marked them out as Fae.


    She tried to avoid taking their features in too closely, knowing full well that their beauty had driven more than one mortal insane.


    Interspersed among them were other immortals of every imaginable form. Most commonly, monsters who had shed their desire for souls, but many were of stranger kin than monster.


    As a mortal, she was an intruder here.


    This was a place of immortals, few mortals ever stepped in here of their own free will, and it was said that the rare few who stepped out again only did so at the price of their free will.


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    She could see a few humans and other mortals amongst the brightly coloured stalls, but at best, they were slaves. Most were simply cattle for monsters or objects of passing entertainment to be sold for an afternoon''s amusement.


    Hildegard gripped the dagger tightly in her hand and walked forwards, careful not to look down at it.


    A Fae turned and noticed her as she approached. The joyful, predatory smile on its face as it saw her mortal nature turned to one of terror-induced madness as it saw the iron dagger in her hand.


    It screamed and ran, shoving aside a large toad monster with no concern for either its or the monster''s safety. Its fear of the weapon superseded all hint of even its survival instincts.


    More immortals turned at the screaming. All seemed at least deeply shaken by the dagger, the Fae most deeply of all. Some fainted on the spot, others clawing and shoving with deadly, mindless fear at anything or anyone in their path, desperate to flee.


    Hildegard let a hint of a smug smile onto her face.


    To see immortals, beings who considered mortals like her as nothing more than insects beneath their feet, so broken by fear, brought a feeling of inescapable schadenfreude.


    The lands of the Fae were a different reality. The Fae could easily step between the two nearly identical planes with their near-identical universal laws.


    One glaring difference existed between the realm of man and the realm of Fae, though.


    While iron was common and natural in the human plane, in the land of the Fae it was something antithetical to reality.


    Under normal means, it was impossible to bring so much as a single shaving of iron into this world. With her magic, with her grand spell, she had, for a short time, made a madness-inducing impossibility manifest.


    This simple dagger brought into this realm was a thing of unnatural abomination. Anyone who looked upon it would know this on a level deeper than even their basest instincts. It was wrong in a way that could challenge even the sanest of minds.


    The Fae, as creatures born of this realm, were the worst affected by this abomination of iron, though any who looked at the dagger while it resided in this reality risked their sanity.


    Hildegard made sure to walk with an unhurried pace through the marketplace, glancing at stools and their wares.


    She picked up a strange yellow fruit from one stall biting experimentally into it, not finding its sour, sharp taste to her liking; she dropped it to the forest floor.


    A few stalls down, she picked up a ring, examining it closely before putting it in her pocket.


    It had been a long time since she''d been active, a long time since her retirement, and even immortals might forget in time.


    She was back now, and she''d make sure to take this moment to make a point, to remind the immortals of the mortal they had so feared only a few centuries before.


    She had to make it clear she had power and that any immortal would be wise not to tempt her to use it.


    After a while, she felt her point was made, and she approached a large white tent. She knew her target was in there. It was time to get answers.


    She pulled back the flap and stepped in.


    The inside was spacious and well-lit with tiny golden braziers that hung around its ceiling, the floor was carpeted with the soft hides of rare monsters, and the air was rich with a gentle aroma of a spice that even Hildegard, with her ancient lifespan, couldn''t identify.


    At the centre, sitting on a golden chair, was a man leaning forwards on a simple black walking cane.


    He wore thigh-length boots carved with countless scriptic markings and was dressed in simple black trousers and a white shirt that hung half open.


    A long mane of ginger hair was tied into a ponytail behind him. A plain white scarf was tied around his eyes to stop him from accidentally glancing at the dagger.


    On either side of him stood two exceptionally beautiful human women. One held a golden jug and goblet, the other a bowl filled with strange fruit that seemed to glow faintly with a warm sunny light.


    Both women also wore white blindfolds, and while they were dressed in the technical sense, neither their clothes nor their poses left anything to the imagination.


    "Hildy!" The man said warmly as he smiled wider than any human could, revealing his feline teeth.


    "Puss." Hildegard replied flatly.


    "Why it is simply delightful to see you." He chuckled, gesturing to his blindfold. "So to speak, of course."


    "You will return what you stole."


    "Hildy, dear sweet little Hildy, all business and no fun, Hildy. Though I must say, you do know how to make an entrance. I don''t think I''ve ever heard of anyone ever having the guts to bring iron into the Fae Marketplace and a mortal no less."


    "Where are they? I''m in no mood for your foppery."


    Puss leaned back in his chair, "Come now, it''s been centuries. You come and visit your old friend Puss after all these years, and there''s no ''hello'' no ''how''ve you been'' just demands."


    Hildegard regarded the man coldly. "Hello, Puss, how''ve you been? Me? I''m tracking down the person that stole my stuff, and I''m about to find out what happens to someone when you stab them with an iron dagger while in the Fae lands."


    Puss leaned forwards, resting his head and hands on top of the cane, "Reaaaaaly? But then you''d never find your stuff."


    "If I don''t get my stuff back, I''ll do the next best thing and make an example out of the one who stole from me." Hildegard said in exhasperation.


    Puss gave a wounded expression, "does our friendship truly mean nothing to you?"


    Hildegard snorted in amusement." friendship? Where were you when I was dying? Well, I know now, off robbing me blind."


    "I made you laugh. Perhaps there is hope for your forgiving me yet. As for your treasure, I was merely..." Puss gesticulated as if looking for the right word. "Keeping it safe for your inevitable return."


    Hildegard couldn''t resist smiling at the blatant lie.


    "And now a smile, my, I''m going to start thinking you''ve gone soft." The blindfolded monster said.


    "So if you were keeping it safe, where is it?"


    "Somewhere safe, of course. Give me two weeks, and I will make sure it is all returned to you. You have my word as a gentleman."


    "You''re no gentleman. One week."


    "No, wouldn''t things be terribly dull if I were? Ten days."


    "Seven."


    "Alas, I cannot go lower than ten, any less, and I''d risk breaking my word, and I do so hate to disappoint."


    "Fine, but if it''s not returned, then I will kill you."


    Puss sat up straight, slowly stretching, "Good, now that ugly business is concluded, please do stay. I do so love your company."


    "No. I''ve got no time for your stupidity and games. Ten days." Hildegard said, turning and leaving the tent.


    Puss waited a few moments until he was sure that Hildegard was far enough away and removed his blindfold.


    "Well, this just keeps getting more and more amusing. If I didn''t know better, I''d have thought you''d planned this." He said to the air.


    A figure stepped out from nowhere, suddenly present in the room. They wore a long hooded brown cloak that covered them right down to their feet, leaving no part of them visible except for their face, which was covered with a mask.


    A winding spiral was crudely carved on the white clay mask, the two small eye holes the only sign of a face.


    "She seemed mad. I thought she might kill you." the figure said in a voice that was rendered wholly toneless and without character through magical means.


    "What, little Hildy? Pshaw, she''ll kill when she has to, but she''s too softhearted that one. You though, if she finds out you''re the one who keeps messing with her apprentice and sending those monsters, she''ll kill you and not think twice about it."


    "She''d have to catch me first. The boy is unexpected. I only intended the death of the boy as a means to wound Griselda. Now look where we are. The spiral is, as always, unexpected in its twists and turns. He somehow managed to bring Hildegard back from the brink. I couldn''t have done that, and I know you couldn''t have either."


    "Hmmm," Puss said non-committedly.


    "It makes me want to push him more. Just yesterday, he even killed a pig monster that had advanced to talking. He managed that while still only being level two in systemic magic."


    Puss looked up at the figure. "Fascinating. I might just have to pay the boy a little visit once I''ve paid back Hildy if he''s as interesting as you say."


    "I doubt she''ll like that, Griselda either, not that I care what she wants."


    "Well, that''s half the fun of it," Puss said, pulling a cat-toothed grin.

 Chapter 032 -The first steps-

    Refenial finished reading the booklet and carefully slid it away out of sight. He kept the music book up, so he would look like he was reading that while his eyes moved and he looked over his status.


    [


    Name: Refenial Crowchild


    Age: 11/??/#non-interger error#


    Title: Pied Piper


    Rank: 4


    Stats


    Fate: 0


    Charm: 0


    Mana: 0


    Reason: 0


    Cunning: 0


    Resilience: 0


    Agility: 1


    Power: 1


    Free points: 2


    Skills:


    Music (0)


    Powers:


    Entrancing sound (0)


    ]


    He had two points to spend, and other than maybe fate, all the options were tempting. He looked through the options trying to discount them one by one.


    Reason and Cunning both sounded brilliant. Maybe if he could think better and faster, he could come up with better solutions when faced with them. He decided against them. They were great, but he felt he was pretty resourceful and lacked the tools to solve problems more than he lacked the ability to think of the solutions to problems.


    Next, he considered Agility and Strength. Both were amazingly useful. He''d have died more than once without the points he''d invested into them already, but he already had an edge there. He needed to shore up his weaknesses before he worried about increasing his strengths.


    That left Charm, Mana and Resilience.


    From what he could tell, looking at his only power, ''Entrancing sound'' it looked like his title would rely heavily on the sorts of powers that Charm would increase the capacity of. He was certain that, in the long run, this would be one of the stats he focused on most.


    He was hopeful that he would soon be reaching rank one in his music skill, and his gut instinct told him that investing in this would speed his progress in unlocking the skill as well as the unused power. He couldn''t be sure of that, though. It was a gamble. Investing in Charm now might also be a waste of a point, and he didn''t know when he''d get more.


    Next was Mana. Perhaps if he chose this, he could increase the power of his whistle''s stunning attack. Also, once he unlocked his power, this would increase its effect. It''d also have the long-term advantage of making his spellforms more powerful when he learned them. It was tempting.


    Lastly was Resilience, this he needed. Sure, the system healed most injuries that didn''t kill him, but when fighting, especially against the pigs, he''d known one solid blow, and they''d have killed him. He couldn''t constantly gamble his life on lucky dodges and live long enough to become who he wanted to become. The real question of Resilience was whether to spend one or both points on it.


    He thought for a long moment before making his decision.


    One point in Resilience, One point in Charm.


    While toughness was vital, he needed to be more than just tough to survive.


    He fidgeted slightly to see if he could notice a change in his body, but it felt no different than before selecting the points.


    Happy with the changes he''d made, he closed the status and began reading the music book for real, determined to push on even if reading while in the coach made him feel unwell.


    Once day had drifted towards evening, Refenial queasily left the coach and sat down heavily on a bench that Matrill had set up around what would be the evening''s fire. He''d forced himself to keep reading despite the constant gentle jogging of the words on the page as the caravan trundled along the road. He was paying the price for his determination now. His stomach churned and gurgled unhappily.


    He sat there quietly for the next half an hour as the feeling passed. Nox seemed to avoid the campfire in the evenings now since Helus was often there.


    Nia was also off walking somewhere on the outskirts of the camp. Constant days of sitting in a small boxy coach seemed to have started to get to her. She''d seemed a little distant since the village.


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    He pulled out his whistle and began to practice the instrument, making sure not to play loud enough to annoy the bustling caravan workers around him.


    After a few notes, he stopped, surprised. Playing felt easier today. Then he remembered the point he''d just put into Charm, mentally facepalming at his own surprise.


    It was nice validation, though. The point had definitely been worth it. He carried on practising for a while as he sat there, playing one of the songs from the exercise book by memory.


    As he played the notes carefully and haltingly, something seemed to suddenly click in his mind, and he sped up slightly to something approximating how the tune was meant to be played.


    He finished the tune before laying the whistle down carefully in his lap, suspecting he knew what had just happened. He brought up his status, and it confirmed his hopes. His music skill had finally ranked up to one.


    He was ecstatic. He jumped up in excitement, sending the whistle tumbling out of his lap towards the now-lit fire. In shock, he reached out, grabbing it midair a fraction of a second before it passed into the fire.


    Matrill, who was standing on the other side of the fire, gave a disapproving look at his antics but said nothing.


    He sagged slightly in relief at the narrow avoidance of the catastrophe. Still, even this didn''t dampen his mood. He felt a smile locked on his face as he looked around for signs of Nox and Nia.


    He spotted Nox first. The man was standing alone a little ways away, munching on a long strip of jerky. He was next to Matrill''s wagon, where the caravaneer kept the tents and other supplies he needed.


    Refenial bound up to him, he looked around as he approached. As much as he wanted to share with someone, he knew it would be better not to let others know he was titled.


    Nox smiled as he saw Refenial approaching. "What''s up? I think that''s the biggest grin I''ve ever seen on your face, Reffy."


    Refenial tried to give Nox an unimpressed look but couldn''t wipe the smile from his face. "It''s bad enough Nia calls me that. Don''t you start too."


    Nox chuckled.


    "I did it. I finally did it. I ranked up my skill. I''ve now finally levelled up my skill to rank one." Refenial beamed.


    Nox nodded. "I know you''re titled, but you''ve never actually told me anything about it. Was the skill something to do with that whistle?"


    Refenial felt his face turning slightly red as he realized how poorly he was doing at explaining his good news.


    "So, uh", he pointed down at his brightly coloured clothes, pausing slightly before deciding to trust Nox. "My title is ''pied piper''. It seems to be music based, at least so far. The problem was until the skills and powers rank up to rank 1, they don''t do anything. Now my music skill is rank one, it won''t make a massive difference, but it will improve my ability to play slightly. The more I rank it up, the better I''ll get."


    Nox nodded, seeming to be caught up in Refenial''s excitement. "Well, lay it on me, maestro."


    "Uh..." Refenial said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Well, it helps a bit, but I''m still not amazing."


    He lifted his whistle to his lips and played the tune he''d played before.


    As he finished, Nox gave him a nod of approval. "Much better. I didn''t want to gouge my ears off, like the first time I heard you play. You might actually be pretty good with a bit more practice."


    Refenial smiled even wider at the words.


    "So, what else can you do with your title?"


    Refenial shrugged sheepishly. "Well, I''ve got my stats that make me slightly better at things, a point into Charm, Resilience, Power, and Agility. I''ve also got a power, but that''s stuck at level zero."


    Nox gave an interested look at the last part, "What''s the power?"


    "''Entrancing sound''."


    "Sounds interesting. What does it do?"


    "Err... Make an entrancing sound?" Refenial said uncertainly. "Honestly, I''m not entirely sure until I rank it up."


    "How do you do that? Is it like the music skill where you just have to keep practising?"


    "Maybe?" Refenial answered reluctantly.


    Nox chuckled. "It''s a good thing you''re going to the academy."


    "Yeah," Refenial said, the previous feeling of excitement gone.


    "Don''t beat yourself up about it. You''re a lot better with the whistle than you were before." Nox said in a consoling tone.


    Refenial looked up at Nox, who seemed genuinely amused. "Are you doing better today? You seemed pretty upset last night."


    It was Nox''s turn to look embarrassed as he sighed. "I''m sorry for the way I acted. The Systemic Order just have a way of getting under my skin, especially Helus."


    "Do you want to talk about it?" Refenial offered.


    "Not really, no," Nox said bluntly.


    Refenial smelled the aroma of cooking food. "I think Matrill is nearly done making dinner."


    "Let''s go," Nox said enthusiastically, and the pair headed over. Nia and the other passengers were already sitting around the fire eating dumplings when they arrived.


    Nox and Refenial sat on the bench, and Matrill passed them their food.


    "How much further till the capital?" Refenial asked, looking down at the teaming wooden bowl in his hands hungrily.


    "About three weeks, give or take a day or two," Matrill responded.


    "So what''s everyone doing when they get to the capital?" Helus asked brightly, looking at Refenial.


    Refenial froze, caught out without a ready lie.


    "We''re going to try out as retainers at the academy," Nox interjected smoothly.


    Helus nodded. "A truly noble pursuit. I once met Order Keeper Azazel. He''s the Order''s representative at the school. He''s a tough man but a fair one. You''ll be in good hands."


    Nox gave a sour look, "The Order shouldn''t even be involved in the academy."


    Helus shook his head in polite disagreement. "I couldn''t disagree more. Just because the Order wasn''t one of the founding factions doesn''t mean it doesn''t have a place there. Late King Wendle was quite right in including us."


    "Wendle was an idiot, letting you people back into the country." Nox snapped back.


    "Oh, but you are quite wrong, Nox. King Wendle was the first ruler in this country to actually have respect for the gift of System''s wisdom. I wish Cesare had as much vision as his father."


    Nia stood with bowl in one hand, spoon in her mouth and tapped her dagger''s sheathe with her free hand in clear warning. She glared at both men until it was clear they were going to stop their bickering, then sat back down again to eat.


    Matrill nodded in approval of Nia''s actions. "I couldn''t have said it better myself."


    Nia looked at Refenial for a translation which he supplied. He smiled when she heard his agreement.

 Chapter 033 -The taste of bitter ash-

    "I think I''ve got the coin memorised well enough now, Nia," Refenial said to her as they sat there full from their evening meal.


    "You want to learn the next step of enchanting tonight, then?" Nia asked.


    Refenial nodded enthusiastically.


    "We''ll need Nox then to guard us while we''re away from camp." She told him.


    Refenial nodded and turned to Nox. They exchanged a fast back and forth in their language, Refenial laughing at something Nox had said.


    She ruthlessly suppressed the twinge of jealousy she felt, left out of the conversation once again. She understood a couple of the words they''d said but not enough to even get the gist of what they were saying.


    Reffy was great to talk to, but he was only one person. She thought back fondly on her conversation with the mysterious Grandmother in the restaurant wistfully. She wanted to have an actual conversation with another adult, perhaps Nox...


    She suddenly realised both Nox and Refenial were standing waiting for her.


    She stood, handing her bowl and spoon to Matrill and began walking, still pretending to use her crutch, with the pair away from the camp.


    As they walked, Refenial talked to her. "I''ve got my first rank in the music skill." He told her, his face flush with excitement.


    "That means your titled magic will make you better at music?"


    Refenial nodded. "I think most of the powers my title will give me are musically based, so I really need to get the hang of playing the whistle."


    "You don''t have to tell me if you don''t want to, but what is your title?"


    "I trust you Nia." He said before pausing. "I don''t think it has a direct translation, but basically, it''s ''multi-coloured piper''."


    Nia felt smiled at how much Refenial trusted her. She looked down at the boy, with his dark, scraggly hair, fondly as he smiled up at her. It was like having a little brother, a little brother who could talk to the Ravenous mother and kill talking monsters, but a little brother all the same.


    Deciding they''d moved far enough away from the caravan, Nia gestured to them to stop. "Here will do."


    Nox stood guard for monsters while Refenial listened attentively to her.


    "So, if you get the coin out, we''ll begin." She told him as she opened her soul''s eyes. She watched the gently swirling mana, as always taken in by its otherwordly beauty, as she waited for Refenial.


    She glanced across at his soul, it was strange and unlike any other she''d ever seen. It was a perfect sphere, speckled with a dusting of points of pure darkness. Occasionally she could swear that it moved slightly, perhaps the thing inside his soul that he''d mentioned.


    She shivered at that thought, hoping that whatever it was, the boy at least had it under permanent control.


    Refenial finished retrieving the coin, and she saw his soul''s eyes open, looking across at her.


    "I''m ready," Refenial said.


    "Right, now we''re going to make a coin that only lands on heads when it''s flipped. This is a simple magic enchantment that all enchanters learn in my country. It''s a simple object with a simple effect based on a simple variable."


    "simple," Refenial said with a sly smile.


    Nia narrowed her eyes slightly, feeling he was making fun of her but continued.


    "Now, what you need to do is visualise the coin in the air as it''s tossed, everything about it. The light as it shines across it, the way it moves as it spins, the sound of it moving air aside, no matter how quiet that sound might be. If you''re having trouble, flip it a few times."


    Refenial did so, flipping it several times, only dropping it once. "I think I''ve got it now." He told her.


    "Good, now imagine the coin coming down, about to land on tails, but as it does so, mana making a pushing force on both sides of the coin, speeding up its spin just enough that it lands on heads.


    This is the hard part. The more perfectly you visualise this, the better this will work."


    Refenial stood there for a while, focusing intently on the coin. "I think I got it?"


    "Good now, reach out with your soul and touch the item and imprint what you''re imagining."


    Refenial reached out a thin tendril of his soul to touch the coin.


    "Now, wait until a mana particle touches the coin. We''ll see how good your visualisation is."


    She watched Refenial as he hyper-focused on the coin. She wasn''t expecting much. It''d taken months of practice for the coin to even start to enchant when she''d been learning.


    Several moments passed while they waited.


    A small mote of mana touched against the coin blown into by the ethereal winds that mana seemed to blow on. Nia watched closely.


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    It dimmed by the tiniest of perceptible amounts.


    To her surprise, she felt annoyed, not happy for Reffy. She gave him a smile of encouragement she didn''t feel.


    "That''s good. Keep trying," she said, but the words felt weirdly hollow, like she was just going through the motions of saying them.


    She carried on watching and offering encouragement until night had fallen, and they''d been forced to wrap up their work.


    Later as she lay in her tent struggling to sleep, she tossed and turned irritably and considered how she felt.


    She''d come to this land to get away from the boredom and mundanity of home, to seek adventure. She''d come here to be an adventurer, to live a life of wonder and spectacle.


    She''d met Reffy on that first day when he''d saved her twice in a row. He''d shown such determination on that day and every day since.


    He''d squeaked away painfully on the whistle, even though he''d known that everyone had wanted him to stop.


    She thought of the crooked house, the monster grabbing her leg and of Nox saving her from her failure to dodge the monster''s arm. She thought of Reffy, dealing with the Ravenous Mother to get her a potion to heal her leg.


    Reffy teaching her Frullian after she''d so foolishly not considered that she''d need to learn a new language in a foreign country.


    Reffy, going into the house alone, Reffy on the monster''s back while she lay on the ground in pain. Reffy gaining ranks in his skills.


    Reffy.


    Until today, she''d seen herself as the brave adventurer that was looking after the small and frightened child as she fought terrible dangers.


    That wasn''t really true, though, was it? Every step of the way, she''d failed. Every step of the way, Reffy got stronger while she stayed the same.


    Perhaps it was Reffy who was the brave adventurer and her the small and frightened child, she thought to herself bitterly.


    He kept on growing and a frightening pace, all she had. The only way in which she could out-compete him was in enchanting, and today he had, in a few short moments, shown himself more able in that too.


    The thoughts churned and spun in her mind, and before she knew it, day had come, and she sat sleepily once more in the coach.


    Soon that day passed, and once again, she left the camp and guided Refenial in enchanting. She smiled and laughed with him, complimented him on his surprising progress for only a single day and said everything she knew she should say to him, but every word tasted like bitter ash in her mouth as she spoke them. Every smile a cracked mask.


    Again she lay in her tent tossing and turning, tormented by her realisation of weakness.


    The next day came, and the cycle repeated.


    Then the next.


    Then the next.


    Two weeks passed, two weeks of the taste of ash and cracked false smiles.


    Two weeks of Refenial making rapid progress in his enchanting. Two weeks of Refenial mastering what had taken her a year.


    Nia heard someone speak and looked across. Refenial stood there in the evening light, coin in hand.


    "Are you alright, Nia?" The boy said, slowly lowering his hand with the coin as he looked up at her.


    "Yes." She said bluntly but, after a moment, relented as his concern didn''t waver. "I''ve just not been sleeping well."


    Refenial nodded in understanding, "I can get to sleep, but I always wake with a shock. It''s the same dream every night. Is it the same for you?"


    Nia forced a smile. "Not exactly. I''m fine. Didn''t you say the caravan would be going to a city tomorrow? Getting out and seeing the world would be nice."


    Refenial nodded. "Stonehaven, apparently, it''s the last big stop until the capital. It''ll feel strange. I''ve started to get used to living in the trade caravan."


    Nia found herself lost in thoughts again.


    Refenial cleared his throat to get her attention, and she looked over.


    "Do you think I''ve enchanted this enough to work?" Refenial asked, holding up the coin.


    Nia nodded, feeling sad at his success and much sadder for feeling that way about his success.


    "So what do I do now?"


    Nia blinked a few times, trying to focus her tired mind on the present before she responded. "Right. Now you need to focus your mental image onto the coin while you start to flip it. If it works, then it will come down as heads every time.


    Refenial stepped back, pausing for a brief moment before he flipped the coin high into the air. He caught it deftly as it was coming down and slapped it onto the back of his hand.


    He stood there momentarily, the coin still hidden under his hand, then slowly peeked under his hand before looking over in amazement and showing the coin. "It''s heads."


    "Do it a few times to make sure it''s not just luck," She told him.


    He did it a dozen more times each time the coin landed on heads. He started showing Nox, who was standing there on guard.


    Nox said something to him, and they both laughed.


    Refenial spoke to her, "He said he''s never going to gamble with either of us."


    Nia once more donned her cracked mask of a smile as she joined Refenial in celebrating his success.


    The next day came, but the cycle was broken, at least for the moment.


    It was mid-morning as the trade caravan stopped outside of Stonehaven.


    She stood, taking the steps carefully as she climbed out of the coach, already tripping this morning in her tiredness as she''d boarded.


    The area outside of the city was a heaving mass of people, so much so that she wondered if the city had only one gate.


    The walls themselves were huge curtains of seamless stone that rivalled the tallest buildings she''d ever seen.


    The gates were huge, too, easily able to accommodate the two rows of carts heading in either direction and the throngs of people passing through.


    Despite their size, a long line of wagons and coaches trailed away from the city.


    The trade caravan had parked up in a small corner of a large cobbled piece of land just outside the walls. Numerous other coaches, wagons, carts and all manner of animal-drawn vehicles also sat across this wide lot. There were even a few stalls set out on the back of wagons with men and women trading and arguing in the crisp spring air.


    She looked around the throngs of people for familiar faces. The other passengers were all standing together, with Matrill, Nox, and Refenial included.


    She walked over to Reffy, "I''m going to go explore the city."


    "Are you sure you don''t want to come with me and Nox? He''s been here before and said he''d give us a tour." Reffy offered with a smile.


    "No. I think I need to clear my head for a bit."


    "Ok, but take care, Nia."


    "Shouldn''t I be the one saying that to you?" She forced a chuckle.


    Refenial smiled.


    They said their goodbyes, and Nia began walking into the city. It took a few moments to pass through the dark arch of the gate, slowed by the crowd. Even in it''s depth, the wall felt colossal, easily twenty feet deep, maybe more.


    She avoided taking any particular path or seeking out any particular goal. For one day, she wanted to be lost in the unknown, set free from the burdens of who she was and, more importantly, who she wasn''t.


    It only took her a few minutes of walking down the odd alleyways and twisting streets of the town to find her goal of becoming lost.


    She wondered for a while, taking everything in, from the strange foreign architecture to the bustle of the streets.


    Soon she found herself walking down a quiet alleyway between buildings that looked run down and maybe abandoned. As she did, she heard a woman''s voice speaking softly, reciting poetry, poetry in her language, the language of Drokon.


    Curious, she followed the sound.

 Chapter 034 -The morning son -

    Elagabalus, the Morning Sun, the hero of Frull, the hope of all in need, the protector of justice, the light that shined brightly after the dark of night, looked down at the creepy child and forced away any sign of discomfort as he smiled warmly.


    Obit stood in front of Elagabalus. Wooden training sword raised into a readied stance.


    Elagabalus watched the boy''s expression. It was severe in a way that he''d only seen on the faces of men and women who were defiant even in the face of death, ready to make a last stand.


    It was an expression of the solemn, unyielding determination of someone who had accepted death and planned to not journey forth alone.


    To see it on the face of someone in a sparring match was disconcerting. To see it on the face of a nine-year-old brought it all the way to creepy.


    Elagabalus lunged with his own wooden sword, making sure to hold back enough to give Obit a chance.


    The movements felt like the struggle of ants in the titanic training hall. One of at least a dozen Elagabalus was aware of in the rambling expanse of the palace that was his childhood home.


    Obit blocked silently, not even letting out a grunt of exertion. The technique was far from flawless, but it was executed with a focus unexpected of a student of Obit''s experience.


    Obit lunged with what was, to him, a series of quick strikes. Elagabalus blocked them, trying to walk the thin line between not discouraging the boy and not appearing weak himself.


    Elagabalus frowned as the last strike came in at an unexpected angle, as Obit twisted his sword mid-angle to catch him off guard.


    Elagabalus caught the blade easily, of course, but he blocked the blow imperfectly with the sword.


    As Obit backed off slightly, Elagabalus fought to suppress the frown.


    He''d made a mistake. He looked at Obit to see if the creepy child had noticed. It was hard to tell with the boy''s impassive face.


    Perhaps the boy knew. Perhaps he''d seen. The thought ate away at him, fear fluttering in his stomach. He couldn''t be seen as unfair.


    He swung his sword forward as he charged, intentionally pushing the strike at Obit just beyond his limit. Close enough to achievable that Obit would think the blow blockable. He couldn''t be seen as unfair.


    Obit tried to block but failed, Elagabalus''s wooden sword making a loud smacking sound as it hit his arm.


    Obit nodded in acknowledgement of what he thought was his mistake and pulled back again, still able to continue.


    "Don''t worry. We all make mistakes. You''ll get the hang of this eventually." He warmly told the child.


    Obit was so determined. Mother had told him to train with the child, but Obit was so hyper-focused on learning it had become a concern.


    As soon as the child woke, he''d want to practice and learn every second of the day. Mother had been forced to install a passive healing artefact in the room. Otherwise, the child would be wrecking his body with his obsessive behaviour.


    He was sure if he could, Obit would have sacrificed all before his training. He''d have given up eating and sleeping and the few other necessary activities he partook in. Training non-stop day after day with his creepy determination.


    Obit swung his wooden sword at Elagabalus in a wide arc, too wide an arc. Elagabalus easily blocked the telegraphed attack, following up with several easy swings of his own that Obit blocked with more ease than Elagabalus had expected.


    He fought back the urge to frown again. The child was getting too good at this too fast.


    The fear that Obit would be better than him at this one day sloshed around in him, bringing a hint of bitter bile to his mouth.


    If Obit got better than him, Mother would see that. Mother would more clearly see his flaws. He would be an imperfect son, an imposter, a failure.


    He considered his next move. He could swing his sword. Even a training sword with enough force behind it could kill. One quick blow to the neck and, snap, problem solved.


    He could claim it was a training accident; those happened. He couldn''t be blamed for that, he could say the boy moved funny, that it wasn''t his fault. Would people believe him? Would Mother believe him?


    He swung his sword towards the child''s neck.


    No, she wouldn''t. She knew. She always knew.


    That look she would give him every time he lied, every time she had to clean up one of his mistakes. The look of disappointment and shame, shame that he was her son. That look made him bend double in fear and self-loathing.


    She would look at him in her absolute perfection and smile sadly at the disappointing, flawed, worthless, imperfect son he was.


    As the false blade swung in, he knew what he had to do.


    Obit raised his own sword too slowly.


    Tap.


    Elagabalus gently tapped the sword against the child''s neck.


    He''d promised Mother that he''d not hurt the child. He''d promised to be a perfect uncle.


    If he killed him here and now, she would look at him with those sad eyes. Perhaps a situation could be arranged that even Mother wouldn''t be able to blame him for, but that wouldn''t be today.


    "Well done, Obit! You''re getting better and better. You might even be able to take me on for real one day." He said, lowering his sword as he playfully ruffled Obit''s hair.


    "Elagabalus." He heard the voice call from the distant other side of the training hall.


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    He tensed at the sound. His heart hammering in his chest.


    He turned to see Mother standing there in her ineffable, immaculate beauty. Her dress shifting between its many forms slowly in her stillness.


    Did she know? Did she somehow know what he was thinking, what he had nearly done? Had he slipped somehow, once more shown his imperfection. Had he let her down again? He fought to keep his body from betraying him, to keep even the slightest hint of fear from showing. If he failed, she would know. She would know.


    "Come," she commanded softly, walking from the room, and he instantly obeyed.


    "Keep practising those forms I showed you, Obit." He called back as he returned the practice sword to the rack and left the hall.


    He followed faithfully until they were deep into the Crow Queen''s palace and safe from being overheard by Obit.


    Mother turned to him, a slight smile on her ruby-red lips. "How is Obit doing?"


    "He''s doing well, Mother. He trains harder than anyone I''ve ever seen."


    "Have you been a good uncle to him?" she asked, and his heart hammered once more in terror of her discovering the truth.


    "Yes, Mother." He said, hoping his act of perfection had been enough, hoping that he wouldn''t see disappointment.


    "Good," She said, her tone too neutral for him to be sure either way.


    She spoke again, "He truly is a special little one. There was a time when I thought Hildegard would be the one to unlock the secrets of Un.


    I worked so hard to motivate her too. A simple farmer''s son and he does what she could not."


    Mother smiled slightly before she spoke, "he''s so motivated by the loss of his family, so driven. I wonder what he''d do to protect his family now, to protect us?"


    "I''m not sure if he sees us as family," Elagabalus said.


    "No, not yet, but in time, if you are the perfect uncle, if I am the perfect Grandmother. Then will a will like his and the power of Un, then nothing would dare stand against us." She spoke in delicate tones before looking up at him, "You have been the perfect uncle?"


    Elagabalus nodded vigorously, resisting the urge to bend double with fear, pulled down by the gnawing pit in his stomach. "Yes, Mother."


    She gave him a doubting look. He strained against the self-doubt and fear, strained to keep the easy smile on his lips, the relaxed posture.


    The moment passed, and she looked away.


    "We had a visitor, Puss." she said.


    Elagabalus thought for a moment, trying to place the name, "Wasn''t that one of Hildegard''s old friends?"


    "Of a sort. There''s too much that''s passed between them to consider them friends now. He had some interesting news; it wasn''t cheap."


    "Oh?"


    "That Traveller of the Way of the Spiral, the one that keeps getting away from you, is going to attack Refenial tomorrow in Stonehaven. Apparently, he doesn''t plan on killing him, but Puss didn''t know what they hope to gain."


    Elagabalus frowned as he remembered his repeated failure to stop the Traveller. Again and again, the Traveller had shown him up. Again and again, he''d failed and shown his failure, his weakness. Mother had given him that sad, disappointed look every time.


    Mother paused until the frown left his face, "You are a good son, and a special person, almost as much as Obit. I know you won''t let me down. This time."


    Those last two words were like a dagger of icy fear shoved into his heart. His breath quickened, his heartbeat drumming in his ears, as he sunk to his heels, his face pulled back in a rictus of fear.


    He realized after a time, Mother was hugging him, his head brought down to her chest as she gently stroked his hair. Her gentle scent was one of the few things he''d ever found that could slow his racing, fearful heart.


    "It''s okay, there, there, it''s okay. You''re my brave hero. I know you can do it. I have absolute faith in you. You are perfect. You are perfect." She soothed on and on until the shaking left his hands, and his breathing stilled.


    She pulled away. "Say goodbye to Obit before you go. He needs to know you''re a good uncle."


    Elagabalus stood, neatening his clothes that had wrinkled slightly from squatting, "Goodbye, Mother." He said to her as she impassively watched him leave.


    He walked back through the winding corridors towards the training hall. As he rounded the corner, he saw a figure step out from the hall''s door and turn away.


    He drew his sword at the sight of the intruder, "Who are you?" he demanded, pointing his sword at the stranger, who stopped at the sound but still faced away from him.


    The man had a long ponytail of red hair stretching down his back and wore a simple white shirt with black trousers, and had a black cane in his hand. The man''s thigh-high leather boots instantly stood out, with the complex scriptic markings that covered every inch of them.


    The man seemed unconcerned by Elagabalus''s drawn sword, still not bothering to turn. "Well, that''s no way to treat a guest. And here I heard you were a perfect gentleman, Elagabalus."


    Elagabalus, looked across at the training hall''s doorway. Obit was still training inside. Elagabalus felt a pang of disappointment that the intruder hadn''t killed the boy and solved his problems.


    "A guest doesn''t wander around uninvited," Elagabalus said, looking back at the man.


    The man half turned his body and looked across at Elagabalus, "I was looking for the bathroom." The man said with a smile that revealed his feline teeth and a look of amusement in his eyes that made it clear he knew Elagabalus didn''t believe the lie he was spouting but didn''t care.


    "You must be Puss," Elagabalus said, feeling a little bewildered by the strange man.


    "Why yes indeed, we have met before, but you were in a crib at the time, so I can forgive your not recognizing me."


    "Why were you in the training hall? Mother wouldn''t have let you wander like this." Elagabalus said, gently moving his sword to reinforce his authority in the conversation.


    "As I said, I was simply looking for the bathroom and got lost on the way.


    I see why Griselda is hiding little Obit away. He''s quite special... one might say practically perfect."


    Elagabalus felt his brow twitch involuntarily at Puss''s wording as he fought back the emotions that it induced.


    Had Puss somehow overheard his conversation with Mother? He considered killing Puss right here but he didn''t know how strong the immortal would be. He''d found underneath their bravado and arrogance, many immortals were weaker than they seemed. He''d killed many. He knew there were some who he stood no chance against, he could probably kill Puss, but he wouldn''t know for sure until he attacked, and by then, it would be too late.


    Puss spoke again. "If you are concerned, you could show me the way out. I''ve done everything I needed to do here, and Griselda''s palace is so large, I''m liable to get lost if I try and find my own way, and if that happens, who knows where I''m liable to end up."


    Elagabalus reluctantly sheathed his sword, "I think that would be for the best."


    He guided Puss out of the palace, neither speaking a single word to the other. Once that was done, he said goodbye to Obit and set out for Stonehaven.


    The next day, Elagabalus watched from one of the few copses of trees that dotted the pastoral, rocky landscape. The trade caravan slowly moved forwards in the distance as it approached the city of Stonehaven. He paid particular focus to the coach he knew Refenial was in.


    He wasn''t sure what the Traveller was planning, but if they weren''t planning on killing Refenial, then his only focus would need to be on capturing or killing them.


    He watched the caravan stop outside of the city. He watched the passengers get out of the caravan one by one. He watched as the foreign girl left, and he watched the Traveller walk up to the group of passengers.


    He watched as the Traveller cut the head off one of the men from the coach, then another. Each beheaded in one clean strike.


    Then he acted.


    Sure, he could have acted before. He could have saved those men from the Traveller, but was that really the actions of a hero?


    He needed to be a perfect hero. If he had saved those people, who would have remembered his actions? A few, perhaps, but all those who had seen the deaths would now be desperate, terrified, crying out to be saved.


    A perfect hero arrives at the perfect time, and the perfect time is when the stakes become real and hope balances on a knife''s edge.


    They would look upon him with adoration, a symbol of unyielding hope in dark times.

 Chapter 035 -A small price to pay-

    Nia followed the sound of poetry recited by a woman in her language down a disused alleyway and around a corner.


    "...Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,


    ''Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;


    Your robes are green and purple¨Cthere''s a crest upon your head;


    Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!''"


    The words echoed off the stone walls of the buildings as she walked.


    Around the corner, she found herself in a courtyard half overgrown with weeds. The windows of the low-set buildings that surrounded them were shuttered fast, paint peeling off their old wood.


    Other than the poetry, the air here felt abandoned, the sounds of the city a distant hum.


    Three people were in the courtyard. One, the woman reciting the poem, stood in a regal pose. She was laden with jewellery, and her clothes were of royal quality, but they gave her no more modesty than if she''d been naked.


    The other two figures were on a broad stone wall that separated the inner courtyard from the outer part.


    The first figure, another woman, was dressed in a similar fashion to the woman reciting poetry, but she sat gracefully, gently stroking the brow of the last figure, a man laying face up with his head on the woman''s lap.


    He had ginger hair, black trousers, a white shirt and high leather boots covered in strange markings. His eyes were closed, a cane held in both hands resting on his chest.


    Nia looked away from them, embarrassed by the unexpected display of nudity.


    The woman reciting stopped, and the man opened his eyes, looking over at Nia with a relaxed, almost dreamy expression.


    "Isn''t the poetry divine, Miss Nia? It''s amazing what you can buy at the market, " the man said in a casual tone, the sort that a person might reserve for speaking to an old friend.


    Her instincts screamed at her. He knew her name and language. Something was terribly wrong.


    The man sat up, the tip of his black cane tapping gently on the stone ground.


    "Forgive me, I was so relaxed I think I misplaced my manners. My name is Puss, and I''m a monster," he said, his smile drawing inhumanly wide and revealing a sharp set of feline teeth.


    Nia pulled her dagger free from its sheathe and stepped back, uncertain whether to fight or flee.


    He held his hand up in placating gesture. "I mean you no harm, truly. I only said I am a monster as you are a clever girl and would have figured it out."


    She stayed still, unmoving, not trusting the monster. She knew he must be powerful to look so human. Her mind raced as she tried to think of how to escape him.


    "Tch..." Puss said, his mouth downturned. "I hate such crass behaviour, but I doubt you''ll believe me unless I demonstrate. I apologise in advance." Puss carefully passed his cane to the woman sitting next to him.


    Before she could ask what he meant, he moved forward, launching himself off the wall with a kick.


    He hurtled towards her, too fast to take in clearly. He passed her, a loud clap rung out behind her as his boots collided with the cobblestone inches behind.


    He''d moved so fast she''d had no time to act or react.


    She gulped and felt cold metal at her throat. She felt the man''s presence uncomfortably close behind her, his breath on her ear as he whispered to her. "I could have killed you at any moment. If I wanted your death, I''d have no need to lure you here."


    He pulled back and straightened himself before walking back in front of her, the sound of his boots on the cobblestone breaking the silence of the courtyard.


    Her heart was hammering in her chest, her eyes uncomfortably wide, dagger still raised impotently.


    Puss looked down at the copper knife in his hand with disgust before casually tossing it to one side, where it clattered loudly on the ground.


    "You''re free to go, Miss Nia." He said back to her as he walked back towards the wall.


    Nia stood there entirely bewildered by this odd turn of events as Puss laid down once more on the wall, cane in hand, his head on the woman''s lap.


    "Uh, what?" she asked, still trying to process the strange encounter.


    Puss looked over at her with amused surprise as if pretending that he''d forgotten she was there.


    "Why, Miss Nia, didn''t your grandfather ever teach you it''s terribly rude to point a weapon at someone?"


    She watched him with suspicious silence. He knew about her grandfather, her name, her language. What else might he know?


    He sat back up again. "Let me put it another way. You can simply turn about and leave, or you can put that useless weapon away, and we can talk and laugh. If you do, you''ll find I''m quite a delightful fellow who hardly ever bites."


    The man leaned forwards on his can, slowly turning his head to the side and tapping his left cheek, "Why, if you stay, we''ll be such good friends that by the time we''ve finished this conversation, I''m sure you''ll have given me a kiss on this cheek and thanked me in a very sweet tone."


    "Ugh." Nia said in visceral disgust at the thought of kissing the monster''s cheek.


    He looked over at her, flashing an amused smile at her reaction.


    She looked him dead in the eye, "That will never happen."


    He shrugged slowly, "Well, I''ll not force you." He gestured to the two women next to either side of him, "All things taste sweeter when freely given."


    "I''m going." She said, pausing half expecting him to stop her, but he simply nodded.


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    She turned and began to walk away.


    He spoke softly as she began to walk, "I''ve seen it all before. Every group has their weak member, the one who falls further and further behind."


    She whirled, dagger raised, shocked at his words.


    "I will ask nicely one last time. Put the dagger away if you wish to speak to me. My patience is wearing thin." He said, smiling, but there was a hint of something beneath it. Something dark and primal, a true predator caged behind a smile.


    She knew she had to make a choice, either to put the dagger away or walk away.


    She remembered how easily Puss had put the knife to her throat. Having it out was pointless.


    She sheathed the blade and looked up at Puss. He was playing her in some way. She knew it, but why was what she didn''t understand.


    Was he after Reffy? Was Puss a minion of Griselda?


    "Why are you here?" she said, giving him a determined look.


    "Everyone has to be somewhere, Miss Nia," He replied smoothly.


    "I know you''re trying to manipulate me, but why? What do you want?"


    "Can a man not simply want even a kiss on the cheek from a beautiful young lady without having some ulterior motive?" he said with a friendly smirk.


    She stared flatly at him, unimpressed by his absurdly blatant lie.


    He sighed. "Well, I guess you''re much too clever for me to fool. My motivations are quite simple, Miss Nia. I simply wish to help."


    "Really." She said sharply in annoyance at his response.


    "Yes, really. There is a game being set up. It''s exciting. You can almost feel it in the air. Those with power are still squabbling over their pieces, setting up the board; some have yet to even arrive. Each who sits around the board is both a player and a piece. Some like Refenial and Obit are even prizes as well, to be scooped up by the winner."


    "I won''t let you hurt Reffy." She said, looking at him with a cold determination she didn''t feel, knowing how helplessly outclassed she was.


    "You have my word as a gentleman. I have no interest in either of those children. Honestly, I''d rather not pick those pieces. They have all the attention on them, all the focus. Everyone will fight tooth and claw for such obvious prizes."


    "You mean Griselda?"


    "among others, yes."


    A slow creeping realisation fell upon her, "You mean, you want to use me as a piece in your game?"


    He shook his head, "No, you''re a poor piece. Of some use now, but you''re falling behind, Miss Nia." he tutted disapprovingly. "You lack the talent and the skill to be worthy."


    Nia''s face felt hot with a combination of embarrassment and anger at his statement.


    She walked several steps forwards. "Is that all you came here to say, to insult me?"


    Puss waved his hand slowly in a placating gesture. "Not at all, Miss Nia. You see, I''ve been watching you, watching Refenial too, and Nox. You are as talented as you are clever, but compared to Refenial, you are a warm hearth competing with a forest fire. Nox, in time, will face this reality, though his resolve is much weaker than yours. I''ve seen it many times before, even lived it. As the gap grows wider and wider, you will become more and more of a burden on Refenial. In the end, it can only end in one tragedy or another. This brings us full circle again to what I said before. I can help."


    "How, make me titled?" She asked sceptically.


    "While I could, to mark you so publically as mine wouldn''t be particularly useful." He gave her a considering look for a moment before a wide grin broke out across his face. "Perhaps I could be convinced, of course. Say, if you got on your hands and knees, crawled to me and kissed my feet while swearing your undying loyalty. I''d certainly consider it then."


    She looked him in the eyes as she replied, struggling to stay calm at such an offer. "I''d rather die."


    He chuckled at her response, "Honestly, I''m glad you said that. It would have been so dull if you had done." He gestured to the two women with him. "Though you''d be surprised how many would."


    "No, what I actually want to offer you is a chance at power. You see, as you are now, you''re an uninteresting piece, nearly useless, in fact. Your only value will soon be your connection to Refenial.


    The players of this game know this. I''m sure they have judged you and found you wanting. I''d say they don''t consider you a threat, but that would be an understatement. The truth is, Miss Nia, they don''t consider you."


    "You''re back to the insults." She said. This monster was so infuriating.


    "You asked about my motivation before. The wonderful thing about motivations is people can have many. One of mine is to keep the game playing as long as possible.


    What better way to keep it going than to change the pieces when no one is looking. It will be most amusing when the mouse they dismissed becomes a lioness."


    She considered what he was saying. It all made sense. She knew she was getting weaker, falling behind further and further. She doubted she''d ever be strong enough to face Griselda if she really was the Ravenous Mother.


    Puss was a monster. How could she ever consider trusting his help?


    "How could you help me if you''re not going to make me titled?"


    Puss closed his eyes in satisfaction at her question, and then a small purple crystal appeared in his hand from seemingly nowhere.


    He held it up. "You can buy anything if you go to the right market. This right here will give you everything you need to be a much better enchanter."


    "I don''t want to owe you anything."


    "And I don''t want you to owe me either. I propose a simple trade. Something you can give me right now that will cost you nothing."


    "What?" She asked suspiciously


    "Why simply a kiss." He said, tapping his right cheek. "And a simple thank you in a sweet tone."


    "You''re serious?" she asked, confused by why he''d make a deal like this.


    "Why, my dear, sweet girl. I am always the very paragon of sincerity." He said with a knowing grin.


    She found herself chuckling at his response and quickly pulled a serious face.


    "How would the crystal help me?" She asked.


    He looked away from her and at the crystal. "This little crystal, well, it is something most unusual. It is a simple memory crystal. That part isn''t uncommon. What makes it uncommon is that it contains fragments of memories scraped from the minds of many enchanters. Memories of their enchantments, the smell, touch, sound, taste, sight, and intent."


    Nia looked at the crystal hungrily, suddenly aware of its value. The power of an enchanter was determined by their ability to visualise. Actual memories of other enchanter''s work would help that more than anything else she could think of. Depending on the memories in that crystal, she could become much more powerful, maybe even keep up with Refenial''s impossible speed of growth. She needed that crystal. She needed it.


    Puss''s hand suddenly closed, hiding the crystal in his palm.


    She looked at him, confused, and their eyes met.


    "Such a shame. I can clearly see you''re not interested in my offer. I guess I must have been mistaken."


    "Uh, hang on." She said, stepping forwards, afraid of seeing something as valuable as the crystal lost to her.


    "No, no. I realise now a kiss on the cheek and a thank you was clearly much too steep a price for a bauble such as this." He said, looking down in disappointment at his closed hand.


    She needed to get stronger, not be useless, to keep up with Reffy. Maybe a quick peck on the cheek and a couple of words wouldn''t be so bad.


    Her sense of pride fought with her desperate need for the crystal. "I, uh, um..." She spluttered.


    She dropped her head in defeat, "I''d owe you nothing else but a kiss on the cheek and a thank you?"


    "Not one iota more."


    She scrunched her eyes open and closed, trying to believe the word that was about to come out of her mouth. "Fine."


    Puss nodded gracefully and tapped his right cheek, the meaning clear.


    She walked cautiously over to the monster as he sat there at complete ease.


    Despite agreeing, she felt tricked, deceived in some way that she couldn''t determine. Her sense of pride screamed at her every step she took towards him.


    She stood before him as he tapped his right cheek again.


    "Thank you, Puss," she said with a sweetness she didn''t feel.


    She needed this, she couldn''t turn away from this opportunity, but she couldn''t blindly obey either. She settled on a symbolic victory instead.


    She leant forwards, gently kissing the cheek he hadn''t kept tapping. She kissed his left cheek. The feeling of his soft, warm skin against her lips.


    She stood up and took a couple steps back, feeling slightly awkward at the gesture.


    Puss looked up at her, a look of graceful defeat on his face, "So rebellious. I guess I didn''t specify which cheek. You are much too clever for me, Miss Nia."


    Ka-pwww!


    There was a sudden boom that reverberated across the city. Nia turned at the noise and saw a pall of dust and debris hanging in the sky near the gates of the city where Reffy had been.


    She took a step away from Puss and towards the entrance of the courtyard.


    "Miss Nia, don''t forget your gift."


    Nia turned back and saw Puss holding out the crystal.


    She grabbed it as he spoke. "To use it, simply focus your soul''s eyes upon it. Be careful to use it sparingly, though. It is rough on a mind to gain too many memories at once."


    She nodded, not really sure what she should say and ran towards where she''d last seen Reffy.

 Chapter 036 -The traveller arrives-

    Refenial stepped out of the coach, leaving only Nia inside. She''d seemed distant recently, withdrawn, tired. He''d tried on several occasions to help, but every time she pulled away, in the end, he decided, perhaps, she needed space and time.


    He looked around. The Trade caravan had come to a stop outside the walls of the city of Stonehaven. Huge walls, towering curtains of stone, impregnable and unyielding, blocked all sight of the city, though not smell.


    The road had a huge cobbled yard coming off of it where the traders had stopped, the road itself packed with men and women, on foot and cart, coming and going, through the city''s gated walls, the gates so large that even this mass did nothing to touch the edges of its arch.


    Refenial noticed familiar faces amongst the hubbub of the caravans. Matrill and all the other passengers of the coach sans Nia stood in a group talking.


    He strolled over, enjoying the fresh spring air, a welcome change from the harshness of winter.


    Nox smiled at him as he approached.


    Helus also seemed to notice him, "Apparently, this is where Talot is going."


    The bearded plumber smiled easily, "I was hired by one of the nobles here." He said as an explanation.


    "If only every passenger was as easy as you," Matrill said with a glance towards Helus, who seemed oblivious to the insinuation.


    A cloud passed overhead, bringing a sudden dimness and chill to the air.


    Iln spoke, but Refenial didn''t hear the man''s words. Instead, his heart jumped a beat at the look on Helus''s face.


    The young would-be order keeper had gone pale. A palpable aura of terror hung off the man, the look of a man who had seen something that had shaken him to his core.


    "What''s wrong?" Refenial asked, looking around, memories of monsters looming through his mind.


    "It''s, it''s a Traveller of the Way of the spiral," Helus said with such a fearful whisper that everyone''s heads whipped around to look at him.


    "Huh?" Refenial said, confused and looked around, his eyes following the finger that the man pointed a moment later.


    Standing between two parked wagons and slightly removed from the bustle, a figure stood. It''s only movement, a gentle sway of the brown cloak that completely obscured their body.


    Their hood was up, and where their face should be was something bone white, it''s only features a winding spiral and two dark holes where eyes might have been.


    The figure stood still for a moment before walking towards the group at an unhurried pace.


    "Who are they?" Refenial asked.


    "Bad news, maybe worse than Helus." Nox said grimly.


    "The Way of the Spiral is an evil cult. They are outlawed in the kingdom, even talking to one brings interest from the Order. To aid one carries the death penalty."


    Matril nodded, "Most of them are at least titled, if not immortals."


    The figure had crossed half the distance between them. Refenial was slightly relieved to realize the white on the face was a mask.


    A woman carrying a heavy crate that obscured her vision walked near the Traveller, oblivious of their presence.


    She saw the figure, stopping just shy of walking into them. She dropped the crate and let out a small squeal before quickly backing up.


    "Should we run?" Iln asked.


    Nox shook his head. "They''re headed straight for us. If we run, all it''ll achieve is annoying them."


    The figure approached to within a few steps of the group and stopped standing in silence.


    Refenial stared at the statue still figure. He could feel fear from the others and the crowd of people who had begun to notice the scene and slowly back away as if they had stumbled upon an apex predator and were trying to retreat without attracting its attention.


    He could discern nothing of the figure. All that was visible was its cloak and white mask. Even its eyes were too hooded to make out.


    It spoke loud enough for all around to hear clearly, in an unnaturally altered voice that lacked even the slightest hint of emotion or clue of identity. He couldn''t even determine if it was male or female.


    "Titled Refenial Crowchild, Child of Hildegard Crowchild, the Crimson Queen. I am so glad for your support of the Way of the Spiral. Your suggestion for the massacre here today is a credit to our beliefs."


    Refenial felt his eyes bulging out of his sockets. Firstly at so public an announcement of who he was, secondly in confusion at the suggestion he''d supported anything, much less a massacre.


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    There was absolute silence all around him as every eye turned to him.


    The tension of the moment seemed to stretch on. He felt as if he stood upon a pane of cracked glass, high above an abyss, looking down into its terrible depths.


    He knew something terrible was about to transpire, but if he moved, if he breathed, it would only hasten the atrocity that was about to unfold.


    The sun returned from behind the cloud, and the fragile, cracked peace shattered into anarchy, madness and death.


    Everything happened at once around him, a jumbled, chaotic mess of screaming and shouts and the panicked movements of a stampeding crowd. The sound of weapons being drawn and a scream of defiance from someone. The loud clatter of metal on stone as horses stomped shoed hooves on the road in fear of the surging crowds around them.


    The figure moved forwards with an inexplicable grace, the speed of a champion sprinter combined with the casualness of a man walking through their own house.


    The gesture of the figure drawing back its arm could be seen underneath, the first hint of the person behind the cloak.


    Thunk.


    Thunk.


    Thunk.


    Refenial looked on as the reality of the bustling crowds on a nice spring morning became a much more grim reality.


    The figure had already passed him as he struggled to adapt. It swung a weapon obscured by its cloak three times.


    On the first swing, Helus''s head parted from his body.


    On the second swing, matrill''s did too.


    The third swing came in wide towards Nox.


    Nox moved with inhuman speed, but his movements seemed lethargic compared to those of the Traveller. Nox leaned away from the blow raising his arm in a desperate guard.


    The figure''s cloak billowed and obscured Refenial''s sight of what was happening as he looked on, unable to save his friend.


    Ka-pwww! A deafening sound echoed through the land.


    There was a flash of white and gold in Refenials vision as something shot past him and barreled into the Traveller.


    He realized the sound was something hitting the city''s grand wall, causing it to ring out like a god had taken a sledgehammer to some titanic stone gong. The stone of the wall shattered, sending up a pall of stone and dust.


    Dirt and dust was kicked up in the wake of whatever had struck the Traveller. He opened and closed his eyes several times, trying to get the grainy, bittiness of the dust out of his eyes.


    He saw a figure standing in front of him, in white clothes with gold trim, impeccably clean despite the impossibility of that in the dusty air. A comforting golden glow radiated out of the figure, visible even in the bright of day. His breath was slightly laboured, but he nodded comfortingly to Refenial.


    "It''s going to be all right. I''m here now." Elagabalus said reassuringly with an easy smile.


    Refenial coughed as he tried to respond, but before he could, Elagabalus charged away towards the city and whatever had hit the wall.


    A few seconds later, he succeeded. "Nox? Nox?" He called out. Searching, terrified of what his eyes might find, but unable to look away.


    An unnatural screaming-whistling sound drowned out anything further he could have said at that moment as a barrage of magical attacks flew forwards from the figure of the Traveller standing upon the rubble of the wall.


    In the distance, Elagabalus dodged the attacks, unwavering in his pursuit.


    The first spells hit the crowd and wagons. He took in the terrible sight of whole wagons lifted airborne, horses included, as they were hit. The sight of where they hit the crowds was worse.


    The howling magic was like a hailstorm of death, beating a fast tattoo on the road and land, leaving only craters and carnage behind.


    Refenial crouched down to the floor, terrified and searching, searching for Nox. His eyes looked at faces that stared with eyes as empty as the skull he''d found that first morning.


    It was like the village all over again, the sound of falling spells, the smell of blood and burning death. The constant fear.


    His eyes fell upon a sleeve he recognized, he saw Nox''s hand, then arm, but nothing else remained.


    His friend lost, he fell to the ground broken.


    He felt the thing inside his soul begin to fight, scratching and clawing for its freedom.


    He fought back, a little, but it was a half-hearted struggling. He was powerless, weak in a world of only evil.


    He felt his soul begin to crack and crumble under the weight of the abomination. He felt it''s tendrils start to form their eldritch scriptic spell.


    His body began to shake and convulse as two souls fought for control.


    Strong, calloused hands roughly pulled him up. He looked around, confused, briefly expecting to see Matrill or Nox. To his surprise and sadness, it was neither.


    Talot, the plumber, stood there, his hat missing, his face dirty, with blood slowly pouring down one side from a small cut.


    "Why?" He asked Talot.


    The man ignored the question as he began moving as fast as he could while dragging Refenial on his unsteady legs behind.


    Why? Talot wasn''t a titled or a monster. He was a plumber. When the abandoned village had been found, he''d not volunteered to help. Why was he trying to save Refenial now?


    His confusion at this unexpected help, for a moment, drowned out the sorrow and pain. He looked as the thing tried to finish its spell and focused in, sealing it back away.


    "Wait!" He said with realization as he pulled away from Talot, looking back at the city of Stonehaven, deep billowing towers of smoke rising up from across the city. "Nia!"


    Talot firmly grabbed him by both shoulders, looking him in the eyes. "You''ll do her no good if you''re dead." Talot then carried on running as he dragged Refenial along.


    He kept running for as long as he could, often glancing back at the city in the hope he would see a familiar face, but he saw no one.


    It was Talot who had to stop running first. The man bent double, winded with exhaustion.


    Refenial, given this moment, realized what the Traveller had said, what he''d implied. He''d told everyone who Refenial was, and he''d told them that Refenial was responsible for the attack.


    He''d been framed by those words. Would others believe them? Would others think he planned that massacre? Did Talot?


    He looked at the man who was only just now getting his breathing under enough control to speak. "I didn''t do it. I don''t know who that person was. I didn''t want anyone to die." He spoke quickly, hoping Talot would understand.


    Talot nodded, "thought so."


    Refenial was taken aback by how easily the man believed him. He didn''t want to be thought of as guilty, but it felt strange to be so easily believed.


    As they began to walk on, he asked the man, "Why do you believe me? I didn''t do it, but why?"


    Talot shrugged, "you''re a nice kid. We''ve spent lots of time in the coach over the past few weeks. I wasn''t really asleep most of the time. I just do that so no one will talk to me. Like that Helus fella..." Talot tailed off as he saw the sad look on Refenial''s face at the mention of Helus.


    After a moment, Talot spoke again, "We need to get away. I doubt the Order will believe you."


    "What about Nia?" he asked.


    The man seemed to think for a long moment. "You can''t go back to the city. You''ll be arrested. Also, the Traveller might be waiting for you."


    Refenial looked back at the city one last time as they crested the hill, desperately hoping to see Nia, but between him and the city was only the gentle swaying of grass on a spring day.

 Chapter 037 -the wailing city-

    The disaster had only taken a minute, maybe less. Nia had run through the streets of the city towards the gate and towards where Reffy had been and the cloud of debris.


    The first terrible explosion had only marked the beginning of the calamity. The city had been filled with explosions, the shrill screams of magical attacks, the sound of buildings tumbling, and the cries of panicked crowds.


    Then with a suddenness, whatever had been rampaging through the city stopped.


    Nia had been to cities before, in her home country and during her travel here. The superficial things changed from city to city, the architecture, the clothes, the language, the colour of skin, but underneath all that, a city was a city. Underneath it, all cities were the same creature. They only wore different pelts.


    The silence that had come in the minutes after the attack would stay with her for a long time. There was something darkly primal about it, like some primitive instinct, the sound silence made when a city''s population of people cowered away, like small, terrified creatures hiding away from a predator that stalked them in a dark forest.


    The silence had slowly broken down as the minutes passed. The sound of a woman wailing in the distance. The sound of a man yelling for a bucket chain to put out a fire.


    She''d dared move then. She''d dared to break the silence in her own small way.


    The path she had followed to get here was impassible, the street blocked with the rubble of a fallen building.


    She walked through the narrow streets and alleys of the wounded city, trying to find her way to the gate. The air was dry and grainy, between the dust and smoke. From what she could see, survivors were already out in force, stopping the fires that had started from devouring the city whole.


    As two men passed, talking loudly in their language, she wondered if they knew what had attacked the city and why. She passed a house in ruins, two men frantically digging at its rubble. A girl of no more than twelve ran past two empty buckets in hand, clearly going to join a bucket chain. A young beggar with a deformed leg was hunched over a richly dressed fallen old man, though she was uncertain if he was helping or robbing him.


    She ignored it all, finally reaching sight of the gates and seeing the devastation that lay beyond. Huge furrows had been gouged through the ground, dirt, or road, nothing had slowed it. Huge craters pockmarked the land. Whatever had happened, the city hadn''t been the focus. That had been just outside its walls.


    She ran forwards, through the dark portal of the gateway and into the ruinous land beyond


    It was like a nightmare, smashed and broken wagons sat scattered at drunken angles, the shattered ground littered with the debris of lives ripped without mercy from their owner''s hands. The silent dead lay beside the screaming living, who were just starting to be tended to by those who could walk.


    She searched the never-ending faces of both the living and the dead. She saw many faces she recognized. She didn''t know their names, but she''d seen them in the caravan, living their life day in and day out for weeks.


    She couldn''t focus on that now. She had to find Reffy and Nox.


    She kept looking as she walked around. She noticed a face she recognized vaguely as Matrill''s son, though she didn''t know his name. He looked about the same age as her, maybe a little older. He was caught, his leg pinned under an upturned wagon.


    She considered leaving him and continuing her search but couldn''t bring herself to do it.


    She walked over two him, giving a wave of greeting. He turned to look at her, the stains of tears clearly visible on his cheeks, even though he wasn''t crying now. He spoke, but she didn''t understand a word of it.


    She came over and knelt beside him and the wagon. She tried to pull it, but she couldn''t budge it even slightly.


    She looked around for help, and she saw a man sitting flat on the ground. She recognized him as a guard from the caravan, one of the ones who''d joined them in the village.


    She''d often seen him giving her dirty looks as she passed, she''d started to get used to the stares of people like him, so she had a pretty good guess as to why.


    "I''ll get help." She said to Matrill''s son, hoping if even the words didn''t translate, the meaning would.


    She ran over to the guard. He was looking down at his hands, slowly opening and closing them, lost deep within his own mind.


    "Hello?" she said, but he didn''t seem to notice her.


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    "Hello?" Still no response.


    She gently touched his shoulder, and the guard jumped and scrambled away before looking back at Nia with terror.


    He stared for a moment, wide-eyed, before seeming to realize who she was and visibly calming.


    She pointed to Matrills son. The guard stared at her for a long moment before his eyes moved to where she was pointing.


    He nodded dully and spoke in a hoarse voice before he stood and walked over towards the upturned wagon.


    A woman in dirt-smeared clothes that was also searching nearby glanced over and then ran to help them.


    The three lifted, and between them, the wagon lifted up slightly, and Matrill''s son pulled his leg free with a sharp intake of breath.


    Nia looked down at his leg, it was difficult to tell how badly he was hurt with his boot on, but it at least wasn''t bent at an unnatural angle.


    She looked around, unsure what she should do next. She noticed that a group of walking survivors were beginning to form on a large patch of ground near the gate. A few people were already tending their wounds.


    The guard had sat down again, staring vacantly. She looked at the woman and pointed to both men and then the group. "Yes?" she said to the woman in one of the few words of Frullian she knew.


    "Yes." the woman replied.


    They got Matrill''s son to his feet together, then had him lean on Nia for support so he could limp with one leg. The woman gently got the man''s attention and coaxed him softly into following.


    They soon reached the makeshift gathering. There were only a couple dozen standing and already twice as many that weren''t or at least clearly shouldn''t, a few among the crowd looking worse off than the person they were tending.


    The woman gently spoke to the guard, and he sat back down heavily. Nia helped Matrill''s son gently down onto the grass before looking back at the field of suffering around her.


    She needed to find Reffy. She would find Reffy, Nox too. But she couldn''t just turn a blind eye. She would look for them but help any she found in need.


    She began walking through the devastation, helping whomever she could. There were others like her doing the same, and soon she saw more people coming out from the city to help. Many were just in ones and twos, but a large group of men and women came out and began setting up tents for the wounded and an improvised kitchen.


    Each person in the group wore a large circular broach over their heart, in the same style as Helus. She kept half expecting to see the always smiling man amongst them, but an hour after she''d started searching and helping, she found his head, rolled under one of the caravans.


    She''d had to stop for a while and cry after that. She didn''t allow herself long, though, and soon was back to searching and helping.


    More and more people kept coming, and soon, soldiers arrived in bright livery that sat in jarring contrast to the sombre air. They helped search for the injured and began piling the dead.


    It wasn''t long before the first looter was found, a man cutting the finger off of one of the dead to steal a ring. She watched as he kicked and screamed with such force it took six soldiers to drag him back to the gathering spot. He begged, cried and pleaded the whole way there.


    The soldiers spoke loudly so everyone could hear before executing the man with a knife to the throat, their message to potential looters clear. No one stopped them or spoke up for the man.


    He wasn''t the last they found. Looters took the opportunity of so many people here in need of help to slip among the crowd.


    A young woman with pliers stealing teeth. An older man who had gone among the wounded, offering them water while stealing from the dead. A young street girl stealing boots off a body.


    After the last one was dragged away, she stopped watching and tried the block it out of her thoughts.


    Soon the last of those who lived and could be moved had been moved at least as far as the tents, if not back into the city proper. The handful remaining were of the rare combination of being too wounded to move but having lived this long.


    The task began to focus solely on the recovery of the dead. She hadn''t found Reffy and Nox amongst the living despite her constant work. The constant stress of uncertainty kept her going long after she would have given up. Looking amongst the dead was much harder, especially with the language barrier, as men arrived with wagons and carts to begin hauling the dead away on mass.


    Dusk began to fall. The bodies that were left were only those that were in some way difficult to recover. The work was made worse by the crows and other carrion that now gathered looking to loot their own share of the tragedy.


    After helping a man with hauling one, she turned back to look over the ruined land and took a step towards it but felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.


    She turned and saw an old lady standing there, slightly plump and stooped with age, with a bowl of soup and a spoon in her hand. A circular symbol, the symbol of the Systemic Order, worn as a broach.


    She said something to Nia, but she didn''t understand the words.


    "I don''t speak Frullian." She said, hoping she''d got the phrasing right. The woman nodded in seeming understanding and took Nia''s hand, pulling her towards one of the tents. Nia went along uncertainly.


    The tent''s flap was tied back, warm light shining out. She could see benches inside and people on them eating, many she''d seen today helping with the grisly work. A large Iron circle, the symbol of the Order, hung from the back of the tent.


    The woman pulled her into the tent before gesturing for Nia to sit on one of the benches. Nia stood torn, feeling she needed to do more to find Reffy and Nox.


    The woman frowned and said something. When that didn''t work, she began pushing down on Nia''s shoulder to make her sit. The old woman''s frail body was something Nia could easily resist, but something about the woman''s determination made Nia sit.


    The woman then handed Nia the bowl and soup, then began miming eating to make it clear what she expected Nia to do.


    Nia glanced back at the tent flap uncertainly, but the woman stood watching her with quiet determination.


    Nia relented and took a spoonful of the soup. It wasn''t the best she''d tasted. It was under-seasoned, lacked meat and was watery, but it was warm and comforting.


    Only once she had had, several spoonfuls did the old woman seem to finally trust her enough to leave Nia to eat in peace. The old woman stayed in the tent, though and kept glancing back at Nia, and for once, this was a stare she didn''t mind.


    Nia stood once she''d finished, a man with the Systemic Order''s symbol on it took the bowl with a stiff smile, and she walked to the tent''s door, looking out at the now dark night, the distant hills silhouetted against the stary night sky.


    Had she missed them somehow, were their bodies there, and she missed them? The question ate away at her, and despite that, a small sliver of hope remained. Maybe they''d survived. Not finding them at all at least left the possibility of hope.


    As she stood there, she saw a crow land on a nearby broken wagon wheel. It looked at her with beady curiosity.


    She shuddered, remembering both the stories of her homeland and the connection to Reffy.


    K-kaw.


    Nia looked at the bird, then pulled back slightly as it began to retch. After several seconds a small note was regurgitated by the bird.


    She stared at the strange sight for several moments before carefully picking up the note. She slowly sounded out the words as she read the message.


    Refenial lives.


    -Griselda, the Crow Queen

 Chapter 038 -A firelight in the dark-

    Refenial sat at the campfire Talot had made in the small rocky dip that they had camped in.


    Refenial had luckily been wearing his Rucksack given to him by Old Mother Hecate. Hildegard, as he had to keep reminding himself, she was really called. With that, they had enough camping supplies to get by, even if things were rough.


    Talot poked the fire gently with a stick, sending a few crackling red embers up.


    Nox was dead. So were Matrill and Helus. Nia was missing and maybe dead. He couldn''t be sure with such a fierce attack on the city.


    Why was he still fighting? Why was he fighting against the impossible? The world was malevolent and capricious. Why fight for those he cared about when all he could do was fail them and watch them die?


    On the first day, he''d considered just giving up and lying there on the altar till exposure or thirst had taken him. He wondered if he''d made the right choice in choosing to fight, to survive, fighting seemed pointless against the sinister nature of the world.


    He rallied himself against the inevitable evil of the world time and time again, but here he sat, broken and beaten. His maudlin thoughts went round and round in his mind.


    He heard Talot sigh. "It''ll do you no good to think yourself into holes."


    Refenial glanced up at him, momentarily brought out of his stewing thoughts.


    "I''ve been there too. The world can feel empty." Talot said, looking at him.


    "I lost everything again today," Refenial said softly.


    Talot sat quietly, poking the fire. He paused for a moment before poking it again with a hint of frustration. "I''m not good at this, Refenial. My son died too soon for me to get the hang of it."


    Refenial sat silently, unsure what to say.


    Talot spoke again after a moment. "Things haven''t been easy. More people than I care to mention in my life have died. More has gone wrong. That''s life. But that ain''t important, well I mean it is, but it isn''t. y''know what I''m saying?"


    Refenial shook his head as he tried to understand the man''s point.


    "Aggh!" Talot said in frustration, his open mouth showing off his missing teeth. "Let me put it this way. Why do you think I became a plumber?"


    Refenial shrugged.


    "Ok, well. How easy is it to burn down a building? It''s easy, right?"


    "Yes?" Refenial said, feeling more and more lost by the direction of the conversation.


    "And it only takes a second, a candle and a bit of hay, and you''ve got a fire. Now what about building a house? That''s harder. Even a badly made house takes a lot of work. To get the hang of how even to do a small part of it well takes years."


    "I''m not sure what that has to do with anything?"


    Talot nodded, "It takes a second to burn down a house but weeks or months to build one."


    "Yes," Refenial said haltingly.


    Talot poked the fire harder with the stick. "Look around you, it''s not just houses, it''s everything. Fields, food, tools, clothes, everything. It''s not just fires that are quick and easy. Theft and murder can be."


    "I''m still not sure what you mean. That doing bad things is quick and easy but that doing good things is hard? I already know that."


    "Then look around."


    Refenial looked around the rocks, trying to understand Talot''s point.


    "No, not like that. I mean, look around at the world. If evil is so quick and easy and good so slow and hard, why are there fields, roads, cities, friendships, families, and children?"


    "Uhh..." Refenial paused, realizing he didn''t actually have an answer to this question.


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    "Life isn''t easy. Life isn''t fair, and sometimes it''s even cruel. People make mistakes and get a bit grubby sometimes. All of that, and there''s still roads. There''s still roads, and children that smile, and plumbing that sometimes works."


    "But I keep losing people," Refenial said.


    Talot looked at the fire and threw the stick into it, watching it burn, "Roads sometimes have bandits, sometimes children die, and sometimes plumbing breaks and fills houses with shit. That''s life. The real part is if you use that as an excuse to start burning or start building."


    The pair sat in silence.


    Refenial stared deeply into the fire, considering Talot and arson.


    He remembered what he''d wondered before.


    "Talot?" Refenial asked.


    Talot looked up at him but said nothing.


    "Why didn''t you volunteer to go to the village to see if it was safe?"


    Talot seemed to consider the question for a long time as the fire between them flickered a soothing orange.


    "Because that would have been stupid," Talot said at last.


    "But you rescued me today."


    "That''s not the same. I saw you in front of me. I knew you were alive. I knew I could do something. The village... I''m just a plumber. Some people can do the heroics..."


    There was another long silence.


    The sound of a pebble falling nearby brought both Refenial and Talot out of their ruminations.


    Refenial drew his dagger while Talot picked up a large stick.


    A figure loomed out of the dark, towering and crimson. Refenial pulled back.


    He relaxed as he realized the red was only the light of the fire on the white and gold clothes of Elagabalus.


    Refenial breathed a sigh of relief. Talot seemed to relax slightly to see their unexpected visitor was at least human.


    "It''s ok, Talot. It''s Elagabalus. He helped me."


    Elagabalus gave a flamboyant bow to Talot. "Thanks for Rescuing young Refenial. I''ve been searching for him since the attack. I was terrified that something may have happened to him."


    "You know Elagabalus, the Morning Sun?" Talot asked, his mouth hanging wide in shock.


    "Like I once told you, Refenial. I am rather well known. Perhaps tales of my heroic deeds will one day even reach your ears." Elagabalus looked around as if trying to find somewhere to sit but seemed dissatisfied with the hard ground and remained standing.


    "What happened? Did you stop that person, the Traveller?"


    Elagabalus frowned deeply and leaned forwards almost imperceptibly but otherwise said nothing for several seconds.


    "No." Elagabalus said finally.


    "They said who I was, and they claimed the massacre was my idea."


    Elagabalus smiled sympathetically, "Thankfully, I have many connections with the Order. I will be able to sort things out, so none of this will be held against you. It will take several days, though."


    Elagabalus pulled out a chair from seemingly nowhere. It was golden with white fabric, and carefully set it on the ground next to Refenial, gently shaking it to make sure it wouldn''t wobble before sitting down.


    "I lost Nia and Nox. He, I found his arm."


    Talot swore under his breath, and Elagabalus leaned over, still in his chair and patted Refenial''s shoulder sympathetically.


    "it must have been awful. I think you should sleep, it''s late, and I''ve always found things are easier to process with a fresh mind."  Three tents in sacks appeared in Elagabalus''s hands, one after the other.


    Refenial didn''t argue, and soon he crawled into his private tent. He lay there, his eyes stinging with both tiredness and sadness.


    When He''d first awoken in the ruins, he''d hated the claustrophobic dreams of the temple that always woke him with a jolt. Now he was glad for them. He was sure if not for them, he would be seeing Nox''s face in that final moment for many years to come.


    The gentle chorus of dawn woke him, and he looked across, the position of the rising sun visible as it spread warm light across the white canvas of the tent.


    He realized, through all of yesterday, he hadn''t cried. He remembered how much he''d cried when Maxit had died, a boy he''d only known for a single day. Yet he''d known the others much longer, especially Nox.


    He chuckled morbidly to himself. Perhaps there are only so many tears to shed in a person''s life. How much grief can a person take before each tragedy is just one more drop in an ocean?


    He heard the sounds of someone moving around outside. He opened his tent flap stepping out into the sun of the morning.


    Elagabalus had produced a frying pan and was frying some eggs over a reinvigorated fire.


    "Ahh, your awake, Refenial."


    "Yeah," Refenial said as he smelled the delicious breakfast on the air.


    In a few moments, he''d sat, and Elagabalus had handed him a huge fried egg sandwich on a plate.


    Elagabalus started cooking his own, and as he did so, he asked, "Where were you headed, Refenial?"


    Refenial thought about his response for a moment. "I was going to the capital, to the academy."


    Elagabalus nodded cheerfully. "Well, since you were targeted like you were by the Traveler, I think we should travel together, at least til you get there. I was going to meet up with Mother, but if she found out, I left a young boy like you alone just to hurry back. Well, I''m not sure she''d ever look at me the same way again."


    "I thought you needed to go speak to someone to clear my name?"


    "Don''t worry. I have friends in high places." He chuckled as if at some private joke before continuing. "I have made sure it will be all taken care of. It will take a few days, and there might be a couple of loose ends, but I don''t mind dealing with them."


    "I''m not going without Nia. She''s a friend of mine who was in Stonehaven during the attack."


    Elagabalus nodded, "Of course, we can stay a couple of days first. I''m sure she''ll be fine. After breakfast, if you give me a description, I''ll go and look for her."


    Refenial ate his sandwich, lost deep in thought. "Do you know why the Traveller targeted me?" he asked after a moment.


    Elagabalus looked up from his cooking and frowned. "No, I''ve been fighting against them for a long time. They are known for their random acts of destruction and odd behaviour. Worrying about their motivation is pointless."


    "Will they target me again?"


    "Maybe, maybe not. That''s why I''ll travel with you." Elagabalus said with a smile.


    The sound of rustling came from Talot''s tent, and he poked his head out, "That smells amazing." The man said with a gap-toothed smile.

 Chapter 039 - Once upon a wagon dreary-

    K-Kaw! K-Kaw! The harsh cry of a corvid cut through the muffled sounds of the morning air.


    He awoke, the rhythmic pounding of pain in his skull irritated by the noise. Instinctively, he reached his hand to his aching head, or at least he tried to. As he moved, he felt his entire body trapped save for the coarse, grainy feeling of roughly carved wood beneath him.


    His eyes opened wide in fear, and the sight he found only disoriented him further.


    There was something over his face, incomprehensible due to its unsettling closeness to his eyes. It took him a moment to decipher what was going on.


    The disgusting but hunger-inducing scent, his sense of death pinging from directly around him, the gentle squeaking of a wagon''s axle and the sway it brought.


    He was on a dead collector''s wagon, and there were a lot of other passengers with him on this ride.


    Everything felt hazy still, like waking up from a deep sleep, his mind unfocused and unhurried. He felt the swaying of the wagon''s cargo as it turned around a corner.


    What had happened? Where was he? Vague memories swam in his mind as he tried to piece it together.


    There''d been a coach and people, a boy and a beautiful woman. There''d been a figure dressed in brown, a white mask carved rough and deep with a spiral, eyes hidden deep within.


    They''d moved with impossible speed. He remembered raising his arm to block against something... Then he knew nothing til waking here.


    Nox felt his stomach rumble, low and deep like a snarling wolf. How long had he been out of it? How long had he been asleep?


    He''d always been so careful to eat his meat often enough that he would never degenerate into the full curse. He could feel it deep in his pain-wracked body. The change had begun.


    He doubted he could pass as a human now.


    He was surrounded by the meat he needed, but even after eating, it would take time to revert. He''d heard the exact time varied from ghoul to ghoul, and he''d never needed to, so he didn''t know how long it''d take, minutes? Hours? Days?


    He heard a voice speaking and realised it must be coming from someone sitting on the wagon''s seats.


    "Did you hear that, Jark? It sounded like someone growling?" a deep man''s voice said.


    "What?" A second higher pitch man''s voice asked, presumably the voice of Jark.


    "Are we sure they''re all really dead?" the deep voice said.


    "Yes," Jark said with withering exasperation.


    "I heard something growling."


    "I doubt it. Remember last month when you were convinced that the old lady was still alive?"


    "She moved."


    "Yes, it was a rat." Jark sighed.


    Nox listened in tense silence to the conversation unfolding next to him.


    The wagon came to a halt.


    A new man''s voice spoke from outside the wagon, "The Order keeper is by the second pit. He''s been working tirelessly to make sure every body is properly taken care of."


    "Right," said Jark, and the wagon moved again.


    He needed to get out of here, but he also needed to eat. Being caught by the Systemic Order would be about the worst way to go, but he needed to eat to pass as a human.


    He focused on wriggling his body, his left forearm felt strange, almost like his hand was gripping the empty air with painful tightness, but he couldn''t open it.


    He also realised he couldn''t move the left side of his face properly. The deep line of pain following up from the chin, through the palate of the mouth and up to near his ear suggested something was very wrong with his face. He felt his mouth with his tongue, and the feeling of missing teeth and deep gouges on the floor and ceiling of his mouth confirmed it.


    The wagon stopped, and he could hear the sound of people moving and then two sets of steps moving away.


    He paused, waiting to see if now was his chance to escape. Sadly the steps didn''t go far. He heard them talking to the voice of an elderly man. With the muffling effect of the bodies he was buried under, it was difficult to make out the conversation, so he didn''t try.


    He shifted carefully, his left arm feeling even stranger as it did as if it had moved straight through a body he was sure should have been there, the betrayal of his proprioception sent a tiny wave of vertigo through him, but he didn''t have time to stop.


    He pulled his right arm free and carefully pushed the body above him out of the way. He saw sunlight, the first clear sight of the outside of the wagon since waking.


    Free enough to move a little, he raised his left arm and lifted his head to look at it. He immediately regretted his choice. The arm was missing from just below the elbow. Even the cloth of his sleeve had been perfectly sliced away. His head swam with vertigo and queasy disgust at the discovery.


    He dropped his head back and took a few deep breaths reminding himself that it would eventually grow back due to his powers.


    After a second, he felt ready to move and pulled himself upright enough that he could see over the high lip of the wagon''s sides.


    He was in an expansive cemetery, and neatly maintained tombstones sat in rows. The occasional tree and high hedgerows worked to blot out the city outside its simple wrought iron gates.


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    The Systemic Order''s temple was visible, as it sat imposingly at the cemetery''s boundary, with its distinctive architecture of high unadorned walls and blocky build.


    He could see men working in the distance filling in a long narrow pit. He saw a second pit that was unworked and certainly the destination of this wagon''s passengers. A third pit was being dug by another group of men.


    Three men stood next to the second pit. Two of them were dressed in poor, dirty clothes. They were presumably the owners of the two voices he''d heard in the cart. The third man, white-haired and dressed in the robes of an Order Keeper, looked to be in his late 50s, and his face and posture radiated exhaustion.


    Luckily no one had noticed him yet, but he needed to get away. He pulled himself up, crouching low inside the wagon, trying to get a bearing on what he needed to do next.


    Eat, he needed to eat, but he had no time to dawdle collecting what he required. He patted himself down, finding his knife gone, likely looted by whoever had loaded his body in the cart.


    He looked around for options, and his eyes settled on an odd piece out. A hairy leg from the knee down attached to a foot still in its leather shoe. It was far from his first choice, but he didn''t have time to be fussy.


    He shuffled forwards picking up his unfortunate meal.


    He then began to move towards the edge of the cart, looking around, trying to find a safe place to retreat to and hide until he''d eaten and waited long enough to pass as human again.


    He heard wings fluttering behind him and turned to see a bird sitting on the wagon''s far side, a crow.


    He locked eyes with the wretched thing, with the symbol of his family''s misfortune, and within the crow''s eyes, he saw deep malice.


    K-Kaw! K-Kaw! The bird cried out loudly enough to attract attention. Men turned, letting out obscenities and cries of surprise as a panicked Nox looked back.


    He bolted blindly for the cemetery gates as he heard shouting behind him, leg still in his good hand.


    He ran through the cemetery gates, his shoes made a stuttered clacking on the cobblestone as he tried to momentarily stop to get his bearings.


    He looked left. A well-dressed man stood only a few feet away, fumbling to draw a sword at the sight of Nox.


    Nox heard a sound to his right and saw the man drop the sword out of the corner of his eye as he looked across to see a noble''s coach, the driver pulling on the reigns with a terrified fury in an attempt to stop as far away from him as possible.


    The coach came to an abrupt halt, and the horse pulling it bucked wildly in protest of its rough treatment.


    He heard the men from the cemetery screaming, already in murderous pursuit.


    He looked around, trying to get his bearings. He''d been to Stonehaven only once before and didn''t know the city well. If he had time to think, he could find his way to his kin in the city, but he didn''t have time, and he couldn''t bring this mob down upon their head.


    In the distance, he noticed the towering stone walls of the city, a huge chunk seemingly missing.


    The group was rapidly approaching, and the man on the street stooped low to pick up his sword.


    He ran for the walls, their damage giving him a sliver of hope to escape.


    As he ran to his right, he saw the angry mob of men from the cemetery digging tools raised as improvised weapons as they hurtled towards him.


    He ran past the coach, catching a glimpse of how he looked in its dark windows as he did, glowing red eyes and pale skin pulled taught over his skull.


    The coach door opened, and a regal woman stepped out, clearly furious at her driver for stopping so suddenly.


    "Kill the ghoul!" one of the men shouted.


    As he left the coach behind, he heard the woman scream and slam shut its door.


    He ran through the wide cobbled streets of one of the more affluent neighbourhoods of the city.


    He saw passing, shocked faces as he turned corners, angry men and women, many of whom joined the chase, a few with real weapons but many armed with whatever came to hand.


    He knew he could probably outrun his pursuers, but they gave him no time to stop and consider as he ran for his life.


    He turned a corner, almost colliding with a young man dressed in foppish clothes. Out of ingrained habit, Nox tried to smile politely as he moved past the man, but his ruined face made the smile look something more like a snarl.


    The young man let out a feminine scream, and Nox could see him starting to faint as he lost sight of the man behind another corner.


    He couldn''t help but wonder if cities were this maze-like as he sprinted into one of the city''s rougher parts.


    He ran past a group of women standing in platformed shoes that raised them out of the filth of the streets and dressed in provocative clothes. A couple of them screamed as he passed, a couple more pulling daggers from about their persons in a clear message to ward him off.


    A few streets later, he reached his destination, the city wall. He was by the main gate. A dozen men dressed in the bright soldier''s uniforms of the city stood spears in hand at the entrance.


    He stopped looking at the guards.


    The nearest to him looked young, maybe 15. He pulled the spear up in terrified defiance, ready to defend those around him, not even looking back to see if the other guards were backing him despite the shaking with which he held the spear.


    The other soldiers ran to close the large gates, to try to trap Nox.


    Nox tensed as he looked at the rapidly shrinking gap between the gates, blocked only by the shaking defiant boy.


    He was stronger and faster in his hunger, but with his wounds, he doubted it would be easy to get past the boy.


    The simplest option would be to go straight for a killing blow. If the boy was dead, he could move safely past him. Slowing to disarm or disable the boy would take too long, and with the spear''s reach, he couldn''t simply dodge past.


    He tensed, readying himself to kill, but as he did, he looked at the boy in his terrified face and knew he didn''t have it in him. Maybe it was morality, maybe it was cowardice, but some part of him baulked at the thought of killing the scared boy.


    Realising the moment had passed, he turned and ran, this time alongside the city wall. He remembered the gap he''d seen in the wall, looking for it as he ran.


    He quickly found it, a huge section of wall, easily 20 feet across, had collapsed, and the rubble had been moved back into the gap to create a makeshift ridge and fill the gap in the city''s defences.


    The rubble''s slope was steep but climbable. The bigger problem was the archers on the wall guarding this weakness in the city''s defences.


    He had to try, though. He began scrambling over the rocks, but it was hard going with only one arm while carrying the leg. He heard the guards on the wall shouting as he moved.


    An arrow struck the rock where he''d just been before jumping to the next slab of fallen stone.


    Thunk. An arrow hit his left shoulder, the shoulder of his bad arm. He lost balance, dropping the leg and tumbling back down the rubble.


    He pulled himself up from the ground. Looking around, he saw the leg had tumbled several feet away. Between him and his meal was the young soldier, his spear once again raised in shaking determination. The other guards weren''t far behind this obviously swift-footed boy.


    Nox needed that leg. He was sure he had the power to kill the boy. The young soldier felt glacial compared to how fast he could move while like this. He looked the young man in the eyes, and he saw fear, but it was mixed with determination. The boy wouldn''t go down lightly, and he had no time to grapple with him.


    Nox gave a grim smile at the irony. If he was the monster the boy thought him to be, he''d have killed the boy in a heartbeat.


    Nox turned, rushing back up the rubble, giving up the leg for lost. With his freed hand, it was easier this time. He climbed, managing to dodge several more arrows as he did.


    He half tumbled, half climbed down the far side. He launched himself into a run, and he felt an arrow hit his back and stumbled, then another. He fell to the ground, tumbling head over heels.


    He pulled himself up, blood and saliva hanging from his mouth, and ran.


    Every inch of his body burned with pain and fatigue, every step he took felt like the last he would manage, but he took one more, then one more.


    Soon he reached far enough away from the city that he could duck behind a rock without immediately being seen. He wasn''t sure he was safe here, he wasn''t sure there wouldn''t be a hunting party sent out after him, but that made no difference. His body couldn''t take itself any further.


    He fell to the ground with all the grace of an anvil falling off a cart and lay there belly down in the dirt.

 Chapter 040 -the hunter-

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 Chapter 041 - Friends reunited-

    Refenial sat in the camp with Talot. Despite them only being there only a single night, Elagabalus had managed to make it feel homely with the seemingly endless number of mundane items that he could produce from whatever space he kept his equipment in.


    Camping equipment, medical supplies to see the Refenial and Talot''s cuts and bruises, pots, pans, fresh food of seemingly endless variety, chairs. He''d even brought out a full, finely carved dining table complete with tablecloth and floral centrepiece to eat his fried egg sandwich at with knife and fork.


    It wasn''t just mundane items. Elagabalus had produced a small pre-charged runic device that looked like a tiny hexagonal box that apparently warded off low-level monsters, lights on the side indicating how much charge remained. The device now sat slightly to the side of the camp on its own fine wood table.


    They''d discussed how they''d go about contacting Nia, and he''d asked Refenial to provide a letter for Nia. If he did find her in Stonehaven, he could give her the letter, and she''d know that he was to be trusted. Elagabalus, as a titled could speak her language, so that would also make things easier.


    When Refenial had agreed, Elagabalus had produced a whole writing table and writing set, including parchment, ink, and a rather fluffy quill.


    As Refenial sat at the desk writing the letter, he knew he had to ask. "Elagabalus, all this stuff. Do you use your title to store it somewhere?"


    Elagabalus nodded with a smile as he sat in his chair. "Yes, it''s one of the powers a lot of titled get. The rank they get it varies, though, I got it at rank 21, but I''ve heard of people getting it as late as rank 50."


    "So there are powers that a lot of titled get?" Refenial asked, curious.


    "Did the person who got you your title not explain any of this?"


    "No." Refenial thought back to Hildegard''s decision to tell him more about the system and how the attack on the village had stopped that from happening. "Honestly, I didn''t get much explained to me. I''ve mostly been trying to work it out as I go."


    "That''s... unfortunate. To answer your question, though, the system gives out a lot of powers that are rare or unique to certain titles. However, there are a lot of powers that seem rather more common, and most titled seem to be able to earn at least a few of them. There is storage space, the power I use to store stuff. Flight is a common one, though I lack that one. Short-range teleportation is another common power. The ability to read other titled''s status or the ability to determine particular traits of items are also common. You often see a few abilities that turn up again and again with slight differences, such as ranged magical attacks and dash abilities."


    "Any other common powers?"


    "Hmm, those are the most regularly occurring common powers. There are also some that seem very common among certain title types. Most religious titles get some kind of healing power, for example. A lot of tradesman-type titles give the ability to manipulate the materials they work with directly. Most common powers are the sort you would probably expect for a title."


    Refenial finished writing the letter and carefully put down the quill. He began to fold the letter as he spoke nervously. "Do you really think you''ll be able to find Nia?"


    Elagabalus smiled confidently. "I guarantee it."


    Refenial felt his body sag a little in relief at Elagabalus''s confidence.


    He handed the letter to Elagabalus, who quickly left towards Stonehaven.


    Refenial sat at the campfire with Talot, waiting for Elagabalus to return. It was mid-afternoon before he caught sight of him.


    In the distance, he spotted the bright whites of Elagabalus''s clothes. As the man in white and gold approached, Nia a barely visible blob beside him.


    As soon as they started getting near, Refenial gave up waiting and started sprinting towards them. He saw Nia doing the same, and they met halfway between Elagabalus and the camp.


    Her eyes looked haunted, whatever she''d seen during the attack troubling her.


    Nia grabbed Refenial into a hug so tight he was worried she might break something.


    "I thought you''d died!" She said he could feel the tall girl''s tears on his forehead as she squeezed him.


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    "Urk!" was the closest Refenial could get to an answer, crushed as he was.


    Seeming to realize his discomfort, she let go of him. "Is Nox here?" she asked hopefully.


    Refenial said nothing, but she instantly picked up on his expression, "Oh..."


    "The Traveller, he killed Matrill and Helus, then Nox... I only found his arm." Every word he spoke felt torturously painful, but he did so with determination. Nia deserved the truth.


    "I saw Helus..." Nia whispered, a troubled look on her face as she stared off to the side.


    Before they could speak further, Elagabalus had reached them. "What a touching reunion." The big man said.


    He stepped between them and gently placed an arm around both of their shoulders. "Let''s go back to the camp. I''m sure you two have much to catch up on."


    They walked back to the camp. Talot smiled and stood as they approached. He seemed genuinely pleased to see Nia well despite them never directly interacting.


    Elagabalus smiled at Talot, "You have done young Refenial a great service, Talot. I''m sure you are a busy man, but I can take care of him from here. It would be my honour to escort you back to the city."


    Talot looked between Refenial and Elagabalus a little uncertainly. "Ok, as long as Refenial is alright now?"


    Refenial nodded. "I think so. Thank you for saving me, Talot."


    Talot stood with a grunt, "I never thought I''d see the day I''d be escorted anywhere by the Morning Sun." He chuckled. "No one''s going to believe this."


    Talot walked to Refenial taking his hand in a strong grip. "Take care of yourself, and remember what I said, build, don''t burn."


    Refenial nodded again, unsure how to express his gratitude to the man for saving him.


    Talot And Elagabalus began to walk away from the camp as he still pondered his response. He yelled out to them, "Talot!"


    The plumber turned.


    "Thanks." He called to the man.


    Talot gave a small smile of acknowledgement before turning and carrying on away with Elagabalus.


    Refenial returned to sitting down on one of the chairs Elagabalus had summoned, and Nia sat in Elagabalus''s golden chair. They sat in a silence that wavered in the liminal space between comfortable and uncomfortable.


    He was relieved beyond words that she was safe and well, but he knew there were a lot of difficult things they needed to talk about.


    He opened his mouth to speak, but to his relief, Nia beat him to it.


    "There was a monster in the city. He offered me a deal." She said, pulling out a small purple crystal.


    He listened as she told him of her strange encounter with Puss and the deal she''d made.


    "Why''d you agree? It sounds like he couldn''t be trusted."


    Nia looked at the crystal for a long moment before she spoke, "I came here to be someone, not to be in someone else''s shadow. If that means taking risks, then so be it."


    "Was the crystal really worth the risk?"


    Nis shrugged. "Maybe. There''s nothing that means I have to have anything to do with Puss in the future, though. It''s not like I swore loyalty to him."


    Refenial had put off telling her about the attack as long as he could. As much as he hated the thought of talking about it, he knew it had to be now.


    He told her about the Traveller and the death of Nox, Matrill, and Helus. About being framed and Talot rescuing him.


    Nia listened as he spoke, waiting til he''d finished his sad tale to speak. "Can we really trust Elagabalus to just make the accusation go away? You were publically accused of a massacre."


    Refenial thought about it for a moment. "Elagabalus was the one who gave me the music book back in Waterhill. Talot seemed to have heard of him and trusted him too. He seems to be famous, and he''s powerful enough to fight the Traveller."


    Nia chuckled. "He does seem rather, er, eager to talk about himself. The entire walk here, he was telling me about all his exploits."


    Refenial smiled slightly. "Yeah, he''s a little odd, but he seems to be a good person."


    "Oh," Nia said, pulling out a crumpled note. "I got a message from Griselda telling me you were alive yesterday evening."


    She handed Refenial the note, and he read it over.


    "I wonder why she sent this?" He asked out loud.


    "I''m glad she did. I''d been searching all day and not found you or Nox. I thought I might never know..."


    Refenial handed back the note, "Do you know anything else about the Ravenous mother from your story?"


    Nia shook her head, "No, it happened so long ago. I''ve heard lots of stories about why she did it, why she killed all those people, but they all contradict each other. They usually involve a prince of some kind."


    She paused thoughtfully before speaking again. "Some say she was going to marry a young prince, but he spurned her and married someone else. Others say the prince was her son, and the king had him executed. Some even say she was the real power behind the throne, but when a prince became the new king, he tried to cut ties with her."


    "In all of those, she sounds vengeful. Do you think Griselda is the Ravenous mother?"


    Nia shrugged. "Maybe, if she is, we need to be much stronger to face her."


    The conversation moved on, and the pair talked for several hours before Elagabalus finally returned.


    Elagabalus frowned slightly at the sight of Nia in his chair but said nothing and remained standing. "Talot is now safely back in Stonehaven. We still have a few hours of daylight left. I think we should break camp and start making a move." He spoke in Nia''s language, making the conversation easy.


    "You''re coming with us?" Nia asked, surprised.


    Elagabalus smiled. "Why, yes. I''m concerned the Traveller might make a move against Refenial again, so I have decided to escort him to the academy itself."


    Elagabalus paused thoughtfully. "I actually meant to suggest something. There is a town just a couple of days from here, Hamlin. They have a traditional spring fair there that I have always wanted to visit. It is only a slight detour from going directly to the capital, and after what you two both went through, I think it would do you both some good to see some happiness."


    "Ok, let''s go there on the way," Refenial said with false cheer. He didn''t really want to go, but Elagabalus was helping them, and maybe it would do Nia good.


    Nia smiled and nodded in agreement, then glanced at Refenial, but the smile looked a little forced.


    They broke camp and were soon on the road, following it through the winding hills to new places.


    Refenial kept looking back at Stonehaven as it sunk further and further into the distance, the memory of the Traveller''s attack playing over and over in his mind.


    The moment of Nox''s death was the most vivid part. He''d been too weak to save his friend, but he couldn''t let the same happen to Nia or Obit. Perhaps he was too weak today, but soon, soon, he would be strong enough to protect those he cared about against people like the Traveller.

 Chapter 042 -A bad day-

    Nox lay in the dirt, belly down, panting like a dog, all semblance of dignity gone.


    Even with his ghoulish healing, the damage to his body was considerable, and in his adrenaline-fuelled flight from the city, he had pushed his body beyond its capabilities.


    As he lay there, the feeling of blood oozing down his back from the two arrows still stuck there and his breathing slowing down to more normal speeds, he felt so tired. He was more tired than he''d ever felt before.


    A primitive drive in the back of his mind screamed at him that he had to keep moving. He had to flee. But his mind felt so foggy and exhausted, and his eyes heavier and heavier and heavier.


    He woke with a sudden start, the sun in the sky jumping to midafternoon. His good hand was in sudden excruciating pain.


    He pulled himself up and his hand towards him in defence of it. A small rat monster was dangling from his palm where it had latched on and refused to let go.


    Panicked, he slammed his hand down on the boulder he was lying beside, breaking the monster''s skull but causing him to howl out in pain as he felt a bone in his hand breaking as well.


    He cradled his bleeding hand as he sat there. As he calmed from being woke in such a disturbing manner, he realized how thirsty he felt. With the wound to his face, his mouth was unsealable, and the inside had become dry, his lips just starting to crack a little.


    He needed to work out what to do. How was he going to survive and get enough meat to turn back?


    He heard a barely perceptible noise from a distance behind the rock. Something about it raised his hackles. He pulled himself up, peeking around the stone.


    A short blonde woman with a large crossbow was slowly walking towards him, eyes carefully moving across the ground, tracking his path, he realized.


    A half dozen men armed with swords and shields followed behind, each looking like battle-hardened veterans.


    His heart hammered in his chest at the sight. Even on his best day, he didn''t think he could take the six men. As he was now with one hand missing and the other broken, he didn''t stand even the faintest of chances.


    He looked around the wide hilly expanse around him. There were the occasional rock outcroppings but few places he could hide. Certainly, nowhere they wouldn''t find him. He wasn''t an expert on the geography of the area, but he vaguely remembered that there was a saltwater fen about a day and a half''s travel south. Perhaps if he made it there, he could lose them in it.


    Maybe he''d find a better option on the way, or maybe they''d even give up before then, he thought with an optimism he didn''t feel.


    It was now or never. He broke from the rock in a run. Even in the first few paces, his abused muscles hurt.


    He looked behind him. The group were in an unhurried jog that slowly lost them ground behind him.


    He ran for several minutes until the group were well behind him. He stopped to look back. They were carrying on in the same unhurried jog.


    He realized their tactics with a sinking feeling. They were planning on running him to the point where he was too weak to fight back before they struck.


    He was faster and stronger than them, but he was wounded and tired. They were fresh and still full of energy. He was hungry and thirsty, with no supplies. They were each carrying backpacks, canteens of fresh water clearly visible.


    He forced himself to run again in a constant gruelling jog that would keep him ahead of his pursuers. He stayed like this for several hours.


    The sun was close to setting as he looked around, realizing the group had slowly gained on him. Distracted, he tripped. He put his only hand out in front of him, it helped break his fall, but he screamed out a long primal scream as he felt the bones in his hand crunching against each other unnaturally under the sudden shock.


    He forced himself up and realized the group behind him had stopped about a hundred feet away. The small woman leading the group held up her crossbow.


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    "I can end this nice and neat when you''re ready. A clean death is better than a struggle." She called out in a cold tone.


    Nox ignored her words and carried on running. He could feel the arrowheads from the two arrows still grinding in his back with every step he took.


    The sun set, and the stars came out, and still, Nox ran forwards, his ghoulish vision allowing him to see just as well as in the day. The group behind him had pulled out torches, seemingly unconcerned about stealth in their dogged pursuit of him.


    An hour after dark, he tripped again, this time over a rock, his ankle twisting as he stepped on the rock hidden in the grass.


    He managed to land on his good shoulder this time, and while painful, it was nothing compared to the pain in his hand the last time he''d fallen.


    He lay there panting on the cool grass, trying to find the will to move forwards.


    With a roar of frustration, he launched himself off the ground and forwards. A crossbow bolt flew between his legs as he did, passing through the space where his head had been a fraction of a second before.


    "Up and attem, ghoul. You''ve got hours of running left in you." The woman called out with a voice as calm as if she was discussing the weather.


    He carried on running as the night wore on. He kept looking behind, the group were clearly tiring, but they seemed well prepared for this death jog, whereas he wasn''t. If this came down to a straight test of endurance, with him injured and them well-supplied, he''d lose.


    He was struggling now, running slower, but every time he got too slow, the woman would fire at him with her crossbow. His coordination was enough that he knew he could dodge most of the shots, but she only had to be lucky once. He was being run to death.


    As the sun began to rise, he considered the words of the woman, her offer for a clean death. He''d dismissed the idea of giving up as stupid when she''d said it, but now, as his body burned with exhaustion hour after hour, it started having some appeal.


    He looked down at himself as he stumbled forwards, his clothes torn, bloody and mud smeared, his arm missing, his hand broken. He asked himself a question that he hadn''t dared to ask before.


    Why was he struggling against the inevitable?


    His mind felt hazy with exhaustion. The world was unreal as his mind wandered.


    Memories played across his mind unbidden. His parents investing a lifetime of meagre savings into buying his cart and his first lot of goods.


    The grassy ground underneath his feet felt so soft. He was sure it would make the most comfortable surface on which to sleep.


    He remembered the first body he had transported for his people, the terror he''d felt as he''d gently driven the wagon passed the gated walls, terrified the guards would stop him.


    He felt himself trip over a clump of grass. He stood and continued running, the whole thing feeling distant, like it was happening to some other Nox.


    He remembered the long days of driving his wagon and the silent stares of the other merchants as he sold the goods they wouldn''t touch.


    He must have slowed down. A bolt whizzed past his head, nicking his ear in its flight. He realized he must have decided to run faster again as he felt his legs pumping away with renewed force.


    When had he decided to run faster? Did this mean he wasn''t going to give up?


    He remembered the two approaching him, the child and the girl, even the look of disgust on her face at his wagons stench doing little to mar her beauty. What had happened to them? Why weren''t they here now?


    He knew the answer, he knew that he knew, but his mind felt like it was creeping along now, exhaustion, dehydration, fear, and pain blotting out all but the most rambling lines of thought.


    He remembered the attack. He wondered if they were still alive? he considered the question feeling strangely hollow in his mind, as if it lacked the emotional weight it should.


    He looked down at the soft, soft grass beneath his feet. Why was he running again?


    He couldn''t remember why he was running when there was such comfy grass beneath his feet.


    He looked at the hill in front of him, the hill he''d been about to run up and began to slow.


    He looked behind him and saw a woman with several men standing a little ways away. He gave her a polite smile, or at least tried to. Something with his face felt wrong.


    He watched with mild curiosity as the woman began to raise her crossbow.


    He remembered now he''d been running from her. Why had he been running again?


    He remembered the boy in the city, scared, yet spear still raised in defiance against Nox. Protecting those around him from the threat he imagined him to be.


    He remembered hesitating, not being able to kill the boy. Had he always been weak? Had he always been too weak to kill, too weak to keep running?


    He closed his eyes, waiting for the bolt and to sleep on the gentle green grass.


    He saw a memory playing out in his mind''s eye. He saw the day his uncle had died. He''d been a child, told to stay at home but had snuck out.


    He remembered the smell of woodsmoke and burning flesh. He remembered the cheering of the crowd. He remembered the Order Keeper praying, thanking System for the monster being caught.


    He remembered the look on his uncle''s face, how he''d bucked and fought against the ropes, how he''d yelled back at the priest, calling System a false god and the Order Keeper a vile man stained in virtue and blood.


    He remembered even as they tried to gag him, his uncle fought back, fighting to free himself from the ropes, fighting to speak, to condemn those who would condemn him.


    His uncle had never stopped fighting, even when he knew he would die, even when all hope was gone.


    Thunk.


    He heard the crossbow fire and dodged. He felt the disturbance in the air as the bolt sailed past him, missing his chest by a fraction of an inch.


    He opened his eyes and looked over. The woman gave him a calm look.


    "Run, or give up now. It''ll all end the same." She said as she brought out her winch to begin reloading the crossbow.


    Nox turned and ran. Within a few moments, he crested the hill and spotted the fen in the distance. It was still hours away.


    He looked back as the woman finished reloading, and the group began to give chase.


    Nox didn''t believe he would make it to the fen. He felt sure today would be the day that he died, but if he was going to die, then he would face it on his own terms, fighting to live every step of the way.


    He began to move again, as fast as his body would allow. Towards the fen, towards living and dying on his own terms.

 Chapter 043 -Memories-

    Nia waited until she was in her tent to take the memory crystal out. She''d told Reffy about it, but other than him, she intended to keep it a secret. If what Puss had said was true and those seeking to use Refenial were overlooking her and believed her to be weak because she both lacked the title of systemic magic and lacked the talent of her grandfather at enchanting, then perhaps, for now, it would be best to hide the crystal and continue to seem weak. At least until the day she could fight them on her own terms.


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 Chapter 044 -A royal meeting-

    Hildegard stood on the hill, looking down at the distant city of Stonehaven, the first lights in the city just becoming visible as the sun began to set.


    She heard a fluttering of wings from behind her.


    "You know I want to kill you? What''s so important that you''d be willing to meet face to face." She said before turning to look at her mother, dressed in her ever-shifting dress, who stood in a regal pose about twenty feet away.


    "Really, Hilda, is that any way to greet your mother?" Griselda said with a pout.


    "Your guilt trips stopped working a long time ago. Now why did you want to meet with me?" Hildegard said, her tone a bit sharper than she meant.


    Griselda looked at her for a long moment, "Whatever went wrong between us, Hilda? It''s not too late for you to apologise and come back. You have a little brother Elagabalus. I know he''d love to meet his big sister."


    Hilda covered her feelings with a bitter laugh. "Even after all this time, I still can''t tell if you''re so warped you believe your own delusions or if you''re just a good liar. Last chance, or I''m leaving."


    "Refenial was attacked and framed for an attempted massacre down there," Griselda said, pointing at Stonehaven. "If I hadn''t pulled a lot of strings and burned a lot of political capital, he''d be sitting in Systemic Order custody right now. And you know they don''t ask their questions nicely."


    Hildegard looked down at the city with a frown. She hadn''t expected that. Obviously, she knew there was a risk of another monster attack, but leaving Refenial while she consolidated her power had been a calculated risk, One if Griselda was to be believed that had nearly backfired.


    "Hilda, please, your quest for revenge nearly got the boy killed. I know you care about what happens to him. If your little brother, Elagabalus, hadn''t been there, Refenial might have died. I know you have some compassion in there somewhere, even despite your mistakes."


    Hildegard felt a wave of guilt, then narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Griselda had always been good at guessing her doubts, weaponising them against her.


    "You want something, don''t you. You didn''t ask me here to tell me that."


    Griselda sighed, "You adopted Refenial. He''s family. We need to work together to stop this threat against him. I know you always struggled with the concept of family but don''t worry, I''ll help you do what''s right."


    Hildegard took a step back as if slapped by those words.


    Griselda took a step forwards, "There is a rather nasty individual, a Traveller of the spiral path. He''s the one who targeted Refenial. I know deep down there''s still some good in you. You need to do the right thing and protect your family."


    Hildegard, balled her fists up. "I''m not your assassin any more, Mother. You may have used me as a child, but I can see through your shit now."


    Griselda shook her head in disapproval. "Hilda, why would you use such course language? Like I always told you, you''ll catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Also, I came here to help Refenial, and you''re making this all about you."


    "I''m not hunting flies. I''m hunting crows." Hildegard said, letting all her spite and hatred leak into her voice.


    Griselda gave her a shocked look, "Really! And after everything I did for you, everything I sacrificed." She shook her head. "Be like that if you must, but you need to stop the Traveller. He''s a threat to Refenial."


    "And why is that, Mother? Why is he targeting the boy? Is he another one of your enemies? You''re just trying to use me as a weapon again, a weapon to take out your enemies."


    Griselda gave her a piteous look. "Even if that was true, do you care more about Refenial or not getting used by me?"


    Hildegard stewed in silence at those words. "Fine." She said through gritted teeth. She''d find this Traveller. Maybe he''d be willing to work with her against Griselda, and if she couldn''t get him to leave Refenial alone, she''d kill him.


    Griselda smiled brightly, "I knew you could be reasonable if you tried, Hilda."


    "Fuck you."


    Griselda tutted with disapproval.


    "Just tell me what I need to know. Who''se the Traveller, and where can I find them?"


    "I''m afraid that''s the problem, Elagabalus did a lot of work for the Systemic Order, and along the way, I think he must have stepped on a few toes. There was a Baron, and his family had some deal with a fae that would make the heirs titled. The Baron was secretly a Traveller of the Spiral Path, which is probably how his family managed to make the deal in the first place." Mother said.


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    "So, Elagabalus exposed the Baron and killed him, pissing off the Fae?"  Hildegard finished.


    "Yes, a few weeks after that, the Traveller started targeting Elagabalus, it was only a minor annoyance at first, but then they worked out that Elagabalus was mine. They have been targeting us ever since."


    "Is that all you have to go off of, a dead Baron?" Hildegard said, wrinkling her brow.


    Griselda shrugged. "Elagabalus, can''t go around asking too aggressively. He has a reputation to keep, and I have better things to do than hunt down religious fanatics. This is a perfect job for you."


    "Why not send the Systemic Order after him since it sounds like you''ve thrown your lot in with those cretins?"


    Griselda sighed. "The Order''s resources are somewhat limited in Frull at the moment. If I didn''t lend them, Elagabalus, they''d have no major pieces in the whole kingdom. With the signs of war, they''re being rather passive."


    Hildegard carefully kept her face neutral. She''d not had a chance to catch up with mortal politics in Frull since her return, and news had travelled slowly and sparingly to the village. This was the first mention she''d heard of war, but she wasn''t going to admit that.


    She was going to start taking an interest, and soon. The fact the Systemic Order had been let back in, now news of possible war, She would be having words with a lot of people in the near future, she decided.


    "Who was the baron?"


    "Baron Rein, I believe his son took over after his execution. Their fiefdom was centred around Oldspire."


    "I''ll go have words with him. What are you doing to make sure Refenial is safe? I know you. You''ll protect what you see as yours."


    Griselda frowned, "Really, when did you develop such a bad attitude? Can I not simply want to look after my grandson? Elagabalus is with him for now."


    Hildegard grunted. "Look after your new weapon, you mean. Anything else you can tell me about the Traveller?"


    "He seems to be using long-range teleportation to escape every time Elagabalus confronts him."


    That got Hildegard''s attention. Long-range teleportation was often considered one of the most difficult types of magic, massively complicated and most mistakes you could make would kill you.


    "I''d say it''s been a pleasure, but that''d be a lie," Hildegard said sourly.


    "That''s never stopped you before, isn''t lying why poor little Obit hates you?" Griselda said with a hint of a smile.


    She considered attacking Griselda right there and then, conventions and traditions be damned. But she knew Griselda would have already prepared for that eventuality. All it would do was make her look hot-headed and foolish.


    Hildegard turned and took flight towards Oldspire.


    It took her two days, including breaks, to reach Oldspire and find the Baron''s house.


    It wasn''t hard to find. It was not far from the White rose gardens, the establishment she''d left Refenial at, and by far the biggest house in town.


    It was protected by high walls, but that did nothing to stop Hildegard as she gently drifted through the night''s air. She looked through the windows until she saw what she was looking for, a bedroom half-lit by a dying fire. Its luxury clearly marked it out as that of the barons.


    She could see a portly figure asleep on the bed.


    The window was open a crack, and she gently reached in, released its catch and floated into the room.


    She floated, her feet almost touching the ground beside the bed, and looked down at the man. He had a chubby and ruddy face, young, maybe early twenties at most.


    She gave the situation a long moment of consideration. She''d left the reference letter with Refenial. It would do him no favours if word got around she was sneaking into noble''s bedrooms at night.


    She half closed her eyes and began to cast a simple paralysis spell. He would be unable to move, even open his eyes. The only exception was he''d be able to move his mouth and talk, though screaming would be difficult.


    She found a chair and picked it up, placing it next to the bed, careful to do so quietly enough to not wake the young Baron.


    She then magically enhanced her voice, this time going for something inhumanly deep and growling, the sort of voice a young child might imagine the monster under the bed possesses.


    She leaned forwards and poked the man sharply in the cheek. He snorted, suddenly woken and grunted as he tried to move but couldn''t.


    "Baron Rein, I hope you''re ready to die tonight?" She bluffed, her voice coming out as a deep rumble. She had no intention of killing him, but he didn''t know that.


    The young Baron whimpered like a scared animal. "Please, please." He began to beg.


    "There''s only two things that could satisfy me tonight, and one of them will be your death." She rumbled.


    "Please, please, please!" The man begged.


    She looked down at him, the tears coming out of his closed eyes, the rapidly spreading damp patch on the covers. She felt a hint of guilt. Perhaps she''d overdone it. She was used to dealing with immortals and exceptional people. While the young man was titled, everything she could find out about him painted a picture of a rather mundane person. It was easy to forget how easy it was to scare normal people.


    "Your father made a deal, didn''t he?" Hildegard said, trying to move the conversation forwards.


    "What? I don''t... Please, I don''t want to die!" The man blubbered.


    "He was a Traveller of the Spiral Way, and he made a deal with a fae. That''s how your family got their titles."


    The man sobbed for several seconds before he calmed enough to speak, "Yes, yes, but I don''t know much. I was just a child when he was caught."


    "Well, I suggest you tell me everything you do know then."


    "He was a Traveller. He said our family had been for generations. He would teach me and my sister about the Way of the Spiral. Occasionally someone would visit him at night. They always wore a cloak and a mask, though."


    "Another Traveller?"


    "Yes. That''s all I know. Please, I don''t want to die."


    "What else do you know about the Traveller who visited him?"


    "Nothi- wait, there''s the ruins of a fort, our family owned. He''d go there a few times a year. I remember him mentioning meeting them there once."


    Hildegard sat back in the chair, it was a tenuous lead at best, but it would have to do.


    "Very well, you may live." She said, standing and then flying out of the window. She released the paralysis spell as she did, it''d take him a few seconds to be able to move again, and by then, she''d be long gone.

 Chapter 045: A worse day

    As the hard rain fell, Nox was no longer even jogging. He didn''t have the strength left for that.


    He was in a bad way. He''d relieved himself while running. The dark stain of blood across his trousers spoke of his dying body.


    He stumbled every few steps he took, his mind drifting in and out of concentration.


    He knew he had to keep running, though. The group behind him looked tired, too, but nowhere near as bad as him.


    He managed to focus his eyes and looked forwards. The tall reeds of the fen were getting near only a hundred feet away now. Maybe he''d make it there. Maybe he''d reach its cold dark waters. For the first time in hours, he felt a hint of hope.


    Despite how foolish it would be to drink, the thought of drinking deeply from the dirty black salt water of the fen in the distance sounded more heavenly than anything he could imagine.


    He heard the woman leading the group behind him say something, but his mind was too tired to decrypt what his ears had heard.


    He heard the steps behind him increase and split to either side of him. He slowed as he watched the group run ahead of him, forming a wide line between him and the fen and blocking any chance of his escaping there.


    "No more running. You can die like a dog, ghoul, or you can have that clean death." The short woman said, holding up her crossbow.


    He''d been close, so close, he realized he''d sunk to his knees. He''d have laughed bitterly if his mouth wasn''t too cracked and dried to whisper even the slightest sound.


    He wasn''t going to live, he decided. The only option left now was to choose his death. He pulled himself up with a strength he didn''t know he had left and began to run towards the group, towards the woman who had kept him on this torturous run that felt like it stretched on for eternity.


    She raised her crossbow and fired. He was too tired to dodge the bolt that hit him in the stomach. He stumbled slightly but kept running.


    He let go of it all as he ran. He let go of the fear, of the despair, of his humanity. All that he kept was the savage drive of his ghoulish nature.


    The woman drew a short sword, and the men began to close in.


    As he drew close to her, she stabbed at him. He didn''t try to dodge. Instead, he bit down on her upper arm.


    He felt the blood moistening his dried mouth and the sword deep in his shoulder.


    He grabbed her with his broken hand and kept running forwards.


    He ran, his body invigorated with dying strength as she stabbed at him again and again.


    He heard the footsteps of the men running behind him. He ran as fast as he could. They were gaining on him. he released his bite and threw the woman behind him.


    He heard people falling and swearing behind him as she collided with the men.


    He saw the reeds in front of him.


    "Don''t help me. Get him, you fucking idiots!" The woman screamed from behind him.


    He could smell the slight rotting smell of the fen, the tall reeds inches from his face.


    He felt someone roughly grab his shoulder, pulling him back.


    He would live. He would live. No matter what it took. He would live. His mind focused on how close he was to safety and freedom.


    He balled up his broken hand and punched the person grabbing him. He felt his fist collide with the throat of one of the men, powered by both his ghoulish strength and his desperation as his body died.


    He saw the man fly back. He heard the neck snap, but he didn''t have the time or energy to process what had just happened.


    He ran into the fen, the rest of the men in pursuit.


    He only made it a few more feet before his foot met water where he''d expected squidgy land, and he fell into the water.


    He fell into the inky blackness, his broken mouth still open in surprise. He felt his mouth moisten, but the salt burned, his whole body throbbing with once more new pain.


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    He panicked, thrashing wildly, losing which way was up.


    He swam for what felt like a heart-stopping eternity, his blood leaking out into the cold water as its strong currant pulled him along. His already weakened mind faded further and further.


    He felt his hand tangle into something and panicked for a second before realizing it was reeds. He pulled his hand free and felt it breech the surface. He followed its direction and found the surface.


    He flopped onto the ground on his back, trying to breathe, but every breath felt like a struggle.


    He could hear the woman and the men yelling in frustration as they searched dangerously close.


    As he lay there, he felt the rain falling harder and harder until it became hale.


    He didn''t know if he was supposed to laugh or cry, the icy hail covering the rasping sound of his breathing but battering his exposed wounds.


    He settled for opening his mouth. The stones hurt as they hit his teeth and mouth, but it was drinkable water.


    He knew, despite that, he was dying. Even before the dozen stabs across his body, he''d wrecked his body in his desperate flight to survive.


    This was beyond even his ghoulish healing, though that would prolong things much longer than they otherwise would be.


    He heard one of the men traipsing through the thick reeds only a couple of feet away, seemingly utterly oblivious of Nox''s location.


    He tried to turn his head to look, but even this small movement felt like too much as he lay there and the hours passed. The hail soon returned to rain, and he occasionally heard the group, but as time passed, he felt sleepier and sleepier.


    He woke to the croaking of a nearby frog. The sun had moved in the sky. Late afternoon maybe? At least the rain had stopped.


    He woke again. It was night. He focused on the stars above him for as long as he could before sleep took him.


    The sky was the golden red of an early dawn. He looked around, not sure what had woken him this time.


    Schw.


    Schw.


    He heard a distant noise getting closer. It sounded almost like slow footsteps through the fen.


    Schw.


    Schw.


    The steps were coming closer. He could feel the vibrations of each one as if some titanic beast had made them.


    He woke again to the sound of the steps only a few feet away, he tried to turn his head to look, but he couldn''t as he felt a shadow loom over him.


    His eyes began to droop, but he fought to stay conscious as he heard the voice of a woman humming. It was a slow tempo humming, haunting and soothing at the same time.


    He wondered if it was a sign of his death. He''d never really known what to expect when you died. He knew some believed a skeletal reaper came for you. Others put their faith in System or other gods.


    Nox had never had much faith in those, but maybe the soft, sweet humming was death approaching. Perhaps death was here to take his soul.


    The thought brought him peace. He''d escaped his pursuers. He''d done the impossible. For one brief, terrible, wonderful moment, he''d pushed himself beyond everything he believed possible. If he died here, it would be a death on his own terms.


    His death now wasn''t the price. His living til now was the reward. This time he had to come to peace with his fate. He realized the pain had faded from his body some time between when he''d first washed up here and now. He felt like he was drifting on a bed of clouds.


    If he''d had the strength left to, he would have smiled.


    He heard the humming getting closer, and the reeds next to him rustled.


    The humming suddenly stopped, and a woman''s face peered over him. Something seemed odd about her. It took him a moment of staring to realize it was her unnaturally large yellow eyes.


    She knelt down beside him. "What do we have here? What an interesting little one." She softly crooned.


    A monster, he realized. He tried to laugh, but all that came out instead was a weak cough.


    She put her hand softly on his brow, "What a strange one to find lurking in my fen."


    She cocked her head slightly as if in thought. "Should I help you or eat you, little one? Perhaps a little of both?"


    She gently put her arms under him and lifted him carefully to avoid pushing on the arrows still lodged in him. She stood with such ease it was as if he weighed nothing.


    His head started to lull back, but she held it carefully. As it did, he saw what had been towering over him.


    A large two-storey stone cottage stood, towering out of the mud, the beginnings of birds legs visible stretching down into the dark waters.


    She began to hum softly again, and the cottage moved, leaning down so she could easily step onto its porch. She carried him through the door.


    Once inside, she carried him through to the kitchen, still humming as she did, the tune both soothing and carefree.


    She seemed to look around the kitchen for several moments, "Dinner or guest, you''ll need somewhere to stay."


    She closed her eyes, and to Nox''s amazement, the room began to shift with a clacking sound as furniture shifted and moved. A wall next to the cast iron stove drew back into an alcove.


    A bed folded out within the alcove, and iron bars and a door that was ajar formed at the edge, turning it into a small cell.


    She took him into the alcove and gently sat him down on the bed, holding him upright as she did.


    She sat on the edge of the bed and brought her hand to his brow. It felt warm after the cold of the watery fen.


    "You''ll do no good for me if you''re dead before I decide what to do with you."


    With a sudden motion, she yanked the first arrow out of him. His body spasmed, and he managed a weak wordless groan at the pain. She pulled the other two out in rapid succession, making him twitch and groan further at the sudden agony.


    As he twitched, still riding the waves of pain, she closed her eyes, and he could feel his body begin to mend and heal. After a moment, she stopped. "That''s the best I can do."


    Nox still felt too weak, barely able to move, but he no longer felt at death''s door.


    "Who are you?" He managed to rasp out to the strange woman.


    She shrugged, "I''m me. I don''t have a name. I''ve never needed one before. What are you? You seem like a human but wrong."


    "Ghoul. I''m a ghoul." He managed.


    "Well, rest well, Mister Ghoul." She said, starting to stand.


    He tried to reach out to grab her wrist to find out what was happening, but she easily evaded and laughed at his feeble attempts.


    She stepped out of the cell and shut and locked the iron bar door.


    She stood there watching him with the wide-eyed curiosity with which a child might watch a new pet.


    He knew no one was coming. Refenial and Nia, even if they were still alive, had no idea where he was. He was alone in this strange magic house, far from civilization, with this monster that didn''t even seem to know if it was going to eat him.


    The monster began to hum again softly.

 Chapter 046: Hamlin

    They arrived at Hamlin shortly before sunset. Refenial looked down from the hill the road took them over. The large port town was in the distance, with its stone walls and wide streets.


    It had a different feel to it than Oldspire and Waterhill. Both those towns had crammed as many buildings as possible behind their walls. Hamlin, by contrast, seemed spacious. There were even large open areas of grass where the town had yet to grow into its walls.


    He could see a large port, filled with a forest of masts rising from small fishing boats, and large sheds next to the water where people were working on maintaining them.


    They walked down to the town gates. As they approached, the guards gawked at Elagabalus.


    Elagabalus just gave them a friendly wave and smile as he walked into the town.


    Like all towns he''d seen, the streets were no stranger to filth and bad smells, in this case, one that had a heavy overtone of rotting fish.


    They quickly found their way to an inn near the seafront, a sign with a painting of a half-rotted fish on it. It was called ''the forgotten fish'' according to the sign outside that gently waved in the evening sea air.


    Elagabalus led the way as they stepped in.


    "We''ve got no rooms left." an irritable man''s voice called out.


    Refenial stepped into the tavern and saw it was low-ceilinged, with fishermen and merchants sitting at the dirty tables in groups.


    The man, who had a large beard and looked to be in his late 50s, with wrinkled sun-battered skin, turned pale as he looked at Elagabalus. "For-forgive me, sir, I didn''t realize."


    Elagabalus gave him a disarming smile as he held up his hand, "It''s no problem. I quite understand."


    Refenial watched the inn, its customers silent as they took in the exchange.


    Elagabalus walked to the bar and brushed it carefully several times to remove all hints of dirt or dust before leaning against it.


    "I understand. Your inn must be very busy, especially with the fair tomorrow."


    The man behind the bar nodded uncomfortably.


    Elagabalus continued, "The problem is my young companions, and I have been travelling and need a good night''s sleep to properly enjoy the festival tomorrow."


    The man nodded even more uncertainly.


    Elagabalus slowly looked around at the patrons of the bar, who were still silently staring at him as if he''d just remembered they were there.


    He leaned across to the innkeeper and whispered in a theatrical whisper loud enough that the whole bar heard, "if I convince anyone to transfer their room to us, I take it you''d have no objections?"


    "Un no si-"


    "wonderful", Elagabalus exclaimed loudly, clapping his hands together once. He rapped his knuckles four times on the bar and then held his hand up, four huge gold coins sticking out from between the fingers of his half-closed fist.


    The room had been quiet before, but now it was the silence of serious men looking at serious money. Everyone in there stared at the coins, each one worth more than a fisherman would see in a year''s work.


    Elagabalus addressed the patrons of the bar. "I and my two friends each require a room tonight, a coin to each person who is willing to give up their room."


    There was a long moment of silence as everyone in the inn digested the offer, then a frantic borderline stampede as a dozen different people ran towards him.


    Elagabalus quickly gave out the coins, confirming with the innkeeper that each one genuinely had a room before doing so.


    Once that was done, the disappointed men and woman began to disperse, but all the eyes in the inn were still on Elagabalus as he idly flicked the last gold coin over and over in his hand.


    Elagabalus looked down at the coin, "I''m Elagabalus, the Morning Sun..."


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    He suddenly flipped the coin towards the innkeeper, who panicked at seeing the fortune flying towards him and fumbled to catch the large coin.


    "...And for as long as that coin lasts, the drinks are on me!"


    The room exploded into cheers and revellers chanting his name.


    Elagabalus grinned widely as he listened to them chant.


    Refenial exchanged a glance with Nia, not sure what to make of the scene.


    It wasn''t long before Refenial found himself in his own room. It was simple, with a fireplace gently burning and a straw-stuffed bed. He''d slept in much worse places.


    He sat on the bed, and as he did so, he heard a knock at the door. "Who is it?" He called out.


    "Nia," Nia said from the other side of the door.


    He sighed and stood, making his way to the door. He let her in. While the door was open, he could hear the sound of the partying downstairs much louder now.


    They sat on the bed.


    Nia opened and closed her mouth several times before she asked. "What do you think of Elagabalus?"


    Refenial shrugged, "he seems nice. He''s helped me lots, even when he didn''t need to. Why?"


    "I just keep wondering why he''s helping us. He''s a powerful titled. Usually, people like that don''t notice anyone beneath them."


    "Perhaps he really just wants to help people. Look at what he did downstairs with that money."


    "Hmmm," Nia said non-committedly. "Anyway, I wanted to see if you were ok. It''s been a rough few days."


    Refenial looked down at the bed, the memories of death playing over and over in his mind. It took him several moments to speak. "I''m not ok, but I''ve seen enough people die by now. It''s starting to feel normal..."


    Nia nodded sympathetically.


    Refenial looked up at her, and even though she looked in his direction, he could tell she was looking at something far away in her memory. "Do you remember those muggers? They were the first people I ever killed. The only people, actually. I did it because it needed to be done. It felt so hard to do at the time but also so easy."


    She focused in towards him, her expression unsettled. "If I had to do it again, it would be easier. I wonder if that''s what happened with people like that Traveller. If they got to the point where killing becomes so mundane, it feels like a boring chore?"


    Refenial listened, disturbed that he had no answer for that question.


    She continued after pausing for a moment. "Griselda, Puss, Hildegard, the Traveller, our list of potential enemies seems to get longer and longer every day. They''re so powerful too. If one of them decides were a boring chore, we couldn''t stop them, not as we are now."


    Refenial pulled his fists tight, realizing she was right. "Nia, you should go, live your life. Those people are my enemies, not yours. If you leave, they won''t go after you."


    Thwack.


    Nia smacked him gently around the side of his head. "I make my own decisions. I''m not going to let a bunch of immortals push around a small child like you." She patted his head with exaggerated condescension as she said the last two words.


    Refenial batted her arm away, "I mean it, Nia. You don''t have to do this. I can give you some money, and you know a little Frullian, it might be rough to get by at first, but it''d be better and safer than this."


    "I didn''t travel halfway across the world to run away. I didn''t choose the easy path when I left home, and I''m not choosing it now. I may not like some of the things I''ve seen and some of the things I''ve done." Her voice dropped into a whisper for the last few words before she pulled herself up and spoke firmly. "But I would do it again, face it over a hundred times before I chose to live a life where I run away from the challenge."


    She chuckled darkly and pulled out the memory crystal. "Besides, if I wasn''t here, I wouldn''t have got this." She waved her free hand in melodramatic mock mystery in front of the hand holding the crystal. "One day, it''ll make me so powerful even kings will bow before my majesty."


    Refenial gave her his best unimpressed look.


    Nia laughed at his reaction.


    "So, are you going to teach me any more enchanting?" Refenial asked, hopeful now the subject was brought up.


    "A little if you really want me to, I''m tired, though, and I''ve got my own project to work on."


    "Oh?" Refenial asked, interested.


    "I''m making some changes to my wand. I''m not going to say any more, though. What do you want to know?"


    "Why do you only have the wand? Couldn''t you make all sorts of enchanted items?"


    Nia smiled glumly, "Eventually if I become good enough at enchanting. It''s hard, though. The coin was easy because flipping a coin and getting heads is so close to the narrative truth of the universe."


    "The narrative truth?"


    "It''s the fundamental law of magic. All magic mirrors the narrative truths of the universe. For example, if you flip a coin, almost half the time you get heads and almost half the time you get tails."


    "Almost?"


    "Well, occasionally, you might drop it and lose it, or it might somehow land on its edge. Making a coin always that always lands on heads or tales is easy. Making a magic coin that only lands on its side is much harder because it goes against the truth of the universe."


    "So it''s harder to make enchantments that do unlikely things?"


    "Yeah, but there''s more to it than that. It''s not just about unlikely things. Certain magic is easier than others. For example, it is a universal truth that living things heal. If it wasn''t for that, healing magic would be much too complicated. Also, everything tends towards breaking down and destruction, which makes destructive magic easier to work with."


    Refenial nodded as he considered the implications.


    "With enchanting, the object you enchant also makes the spell easier or harder. Enchanting a carving of wings with flying magic would be much easier than enchanting a carving of a house. Because wings fly, but houses don''t."


    "Is this only true for enchanting?"


    Nia seemed to consider the question for a long moment, "No, I don''t think so. Doesn''t Systematic Magic reward people for acting like their title? Perhaps it works like that for the same reason as enchanting."


    Refenial went to ask her another question, but only a yawn came out.


    "Looks like you need some sleep, Reffy."


    He opened his mouth to argue back that he was fine but realized that would be childish and shut it again.


    "Good night, Nia."


    Nia stood, heading to the door, "Goodnight, Reffy."

 Chapter 047 -The spring festival-

    Refenial woke with his usual start, dreams of the temple, with its hooded figures and scriptic magic still fresh in his mind.


    He rolled over, trying to see if he could at least get a few more moments of sleep, but the morning light streaming through gaps in the shutters made it impossible. After a few moments of trying, he gave up and got up.


    He dressed and wandered downstairs. Nia and Elagabalus were already sitting at a table eating breakfast. Refenial nodded to them, not yet ready for words and sat.


    A few moments later, the innkeeper brought him toast and milk.


    "You never told us about this festival, Ela?" Refenial asked when he felt ready to speak.


    "I''ve never actually been here either, I was just curious, and I thought you two needed a nice day," Elagabalus said with a wide grin.


    The three ate up and headed out into the street.


    There were already people coming and going bustling in the early morning.


    A man walked over to them. He was a large set man, soft fur laid across his shoulders, held in place with a golden chain. "You honour us with your presence Elagabalus!" He said with a friendliness that felt put on.


    He held his hand out for Elagabalus to shake.


    Elagabalus shook the man''s hand as he asked, "And you are?"


    "Eurtix Maxin, head councilman of the Hamlin town council."


    Eurtix seemed to shake Elagabalus''s hand eagerly for a bit too long. Refenial saw Elagabalus glancing down at the shaking hands with a frown before Eurtix seemed to realize his mistake and let go.


    Elagabalus manifested a white cloth and began wiping his hand.


    "I would be honoured to show you around. We are having our annual spring fair today."


    "Yes, that would be wonderful." Elagabalus gestured to Refenial and Nia. "I brought there two young people with me, they''ve had a rough time recently, and I thought the festival would do them wonders."


    "Of course, of course," Eurtix said, glancing at Nia before looking at Refenial with an appraising expression.


    Refenial saw the man look away with a hint of disgust as if he''d found Refenial wanting.


    Eurtix looked at Elagabalus, "Your benevolence and charity work is legendary."


    "It is still a little early in the day, but some of the stalls will probably be open," Eurtix said, turning and gesturing for Elagabalus to follow.


    As they walked, Nia asked, "Who''s the fat man?"


    Refenial replied back in her language, "Eurtix, I think he''s the one in charge of the town."


    Eurtix started talking to Elagabalus as they walked, "I truly believe Hamlin is the best town in all of Frull. We have everything needed to one day flourish into a city, especially with our current town walls. I personally oversaw their construction. They were truly expensive to build but necessary if the town is to grow. They set back the town''s coffers considerably, though we have many other town projects that are in urgent need of work. Without an outside benefactor, I fear it may take years for us to reach our true potential..."


    Refenial blanked out Eurtix''s constant diatribe as soon as he realized the man''s angle. He was trying to get Elagabalus to donate to the town, but with all the subtly of a large stone dropped down a well.


    Elagabalus, for his part, seemed unbothered by the fawning man.


    They soon approached one of the wide-open greens Refenial had seen the previous day. There was already a hodgepodge of stalls in various stages of being set up. In the distance, he saw several pens with livestock set up and farmers getting ready to trade.


    He noticed a man walking through the crowd, elderly with a face so sour that it reminded him of Iln. He was wearing a wreath of flowers on his head, and several small children were dancing around him.


    Elagabalus seemed to notice the odd sight, and Eurtix explained. "Every year, chosen at random, one of the townsfolk has the honour of dressing as the spring fool. Old Father Tun won this year."


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    Refenial wondered what had happened to Iln. He''d lost sight of the man when Stonehaven was attacked. He hoped the man hadn''t died too.


    "He doesn''t seem very happy to have won," Refenial said.


    "Hmm, well, that''s just the way Old Father Tun is." Eurtix said dismissively before turning back to Elagabalus, "I noticed Mrs Hillock has set up her cake stall. She is simply an amazing baker."


    "I think I''m going to wander around," Nia said.


    "Mind if I join you?" Refenial asked.


    Elagabalus turned with a frown, hearing them but then smiled. He produced two small coin purses.


    "I''m not surprised you want to get away. Here take these, and have fun." Elagabalus said in Nia''s language


    Eurtix scowled as he was left out of the conversation due to the language barrier.


    Nia gave the coin purses a dubious look.


    "Here, take them. I''m the champion of Frull. A few coins make no difference to me." He said, holding out the coin purses to Refenial and Nia.


    Refenial took his pouch. Nia gave hers a long sceptical look before finally taking it.


    Eurtix looked away and then back to Elagabalus. "She''s got her Wassail cakes out. One bite of them, and you''ll fall in love." He promised.


    Refenial and Nia left Elagabalus and Eurtix and began to wander through the stalls.


    Refenial checked his new coin purse as he did, careful not to show its contents. There was a modest amount in there, enough to live generously for a day or two. Nia showed him her purse, and it had the same amount.


    They wandered through the green, looking at the stalls. A juggler was performing at one for donations and the next sold hand-carved wooden toys.


    Nia stopped at a stall selling hand fans. The man behind gave them an odd look.


    "This one looks like one I saw in the crystal," She said, pointing at a simple cloth fan. "Ask him how much it is."


    Refenial talked to the man at the counter and managed to get him down to a reasonable price.


    Nia came away, holding the fan excitedly. By the time that was finished, it looked like the last of the stalls had been set up.


    They saw a crowd forming at the far end of the green and headed over.


    Two rows of men stood facing each other, brightly coloured ribbons tied to their joints and each holding two sticks.


    A band standing nearby began to play, the men dancing to the tune and clacking their sticks together in time to the music. The crowd clapped along in time to the music that started slow but kept creeping up in speed.


    Refenial noticed that one of the musicians was playing a whistle like his, and he watched with interest, trying to take what lessons he could from the woman''s playing.


    The happy atmosphere was infectious, and as the beat got faster and faster, he noticed Nia had put her fan away and was clapping along to the music.


    The beat reached a blinding speed, and the men danced faster and faster. Refenial marvelled at their skill. They never missed with their sticks or hit each other.


    The song came to a stop, and the men stood there breathing heavily.


    Nia tugged at his arm and pointed. A young man was standing at a stall, three cups set upon it and a large coin in front of them.


    "I''ve seen that game in my country. I''ve never played before, though. Grandfather always said it was a scam."


    Refenial looked at Nia with curiosity. He''d never heard her talk of her family before. Now he thought about it; she didn''t ever really say anything about her life back home. She''d talk about her country at great length but never about her life there.


    They walked over to the man with the cups and watched as a customer walked over and paid. The young man running the stall placed a cup over the large coin he had laid out and began moving the cups around quicker and quicker.


    After a moment, he stopped, and the customer guessed which cup the coin was under.


    The man raised the cup with a dramatic flourish revealing nothing under it.


    The customer sighed in disappointment as Nia and Refenial walked up.


    "Greetings, friends, care for a wager. If you win, the coin is all yours." The man said, touching the large coin in front of him for emphasis.


    Nia pulled a coin out of her coin purse. "Is this enough?" Nia asked, and Refenial translated.


    The man grinned happily, "That''s enough for three games!"


    Nia paid, and the man began his game.


    Refenial saw a man standing on a box a little ways away. Refenial turned to look. The man''s clothes were somehow even brighter than his own. The man had a lute and began to strum as he sang gently.


    "She came forth like a hero of yore, of yore,


    She slaughtered her enemies by the score, the score,


    That powerful witch spoke of in lore, in lore,


    It''s said she spoke like a... lovely young lady,


    Oh, that old Crimson Queen of war.


    The kings of old did this hero try to bewitch, bewitch,


    they schemed and planned to use her to get rich, get rich,


    but when she saw their greed her side, she did switch, did switch,


    they called her a.. lovely young lady,


    oh, that old Crimson Queen, that witch.


    The kings sought a way to fight back somehow, somehow,


    but to take their kingdoms as her own, she did vow, did vow,


    their sovereignty she did disallow, disallow,


    they all bowed before this... lovely young lady,


    Oh, that old Crimson Queen that made even kings bow.


    Lords and the Order, put on a good front, good front,


    but this witch they did want to punt, to punt


    they met her by her palace by the oceanfront, oceanfront,


    They all tried to kill this... lovely young lady,


    oh, that old Crimson Queen, viciously her enemies she did hunt.


    One day though, the old witch fled, witch fled,


    She looked upon the light of the Order in dread, in dread,


    for the Order spoke the truth about the lies she spread, she spread,


    the Order now say she is... a lovely young lady,


    oh, that Old Crimson Queen, who of much has been left unsaid."


    A small crowd was listening and joined in on the singing every time he got to the phrase ''lovely young lady''.


    "Damn it." He heard Nia say, he looked back, and the man was raising an empty cup.


    She pulled out another coin to try again.


    It took close to an hour and most of her money for Nia to finally win. Refenial couldn''t help but shake his head as he watched Nia walk forwards, looking proudly at the coin she''d won.


    "You spent more than the coin was worth to win it. You do know that, right?" Refenial asked.


    Nia shrugged, "I don''t care. I won in the end."


    He shook his head again. He didn''t want to ruin her good mood.


    A boy who looked about 16 snatched the coin from Nia''s hand and began running through the fair.


    "Hey, that''s mine!" She yelled angrily as she began to give chase. Refenial joined in.


    The boy ran through the fair, dodging and weaving through the crowd and pasts stalls.


    In seconds they were out of the green and back into the streets of Hamlin, the boy running like a monster was chasing him. From the bellows of rage coming from Nia as she ran, he couldn''t say he blamed the boy. She looked furious.


    The boy ran into an alleyway, and the pair gave chase.


    As they rounded the corner, they saw the alley split into a t-junction, but there was no sign of the boy.


    "I''ll take the right path," Nia called out.


    Refenial ran left down the alley, and the pair split.

 Chapter 048 -Sacrifices-

    Refenial ran down the alley as it made several twists and turns before coming out onto a wide deserted street.


    He came to a stop, looking left and right. The boy hadn''t come this way. Nia must have picked the right direction.


    He was just about to stop when he saw the old man who''d been the spring fool. He was standing in front of the door of a house.


    Old Father Tun was his name if Refenial remembered correctly.


    The man was glancing from side to side nervously before he knocked on the door.


    Refenial pulled himself to the alley''s wall, curious at the bitter-looking man''s paranoid behaviour.


    The man knocked again, harder this time.


    After a long moment, the door opened with a thudding noise as it briefly stuck.


    A man dressed in a long cloak and hood stuck his head out.


    Refenial''s breath caught in his throat. The colour of the green cloak and the exact symbols were different, but they looked to be the same type of markings as the ones he always saw on the red cloaks in his dreams.


    "Your late, brother." The cloaked man said coldly to Old Father Tun.


    "I know that, Kirn. I didn''t choose to be the fucking fool, and today of all days."


    "Remember to call me brothe-" The man''s complaints were cut off as Tun entered the house, and the door was shut.


    Refenial couldn''t walk away. This was the first clue as to what was happening since he''d woke.


    He snuck towards the house. It was freestanding with a wood and stone downstairs and a wooden upstairs. The downstairs shutters were closed. The ones for the upstairs window weren''t, but it was too high to see anything other than the ceiling.


    He reached the house and began to sneak around the outside to see if he could see in.


    The gap between the house and its neighbour was small and clearly disused as it was overgrown, not to the point where it was impassible, but it took him a little while to sneak around the back.


    Behind the house was a small disused patch of overgrown plants. He''d have considered it a back garden if there was any sign of any gardening ever being done there.


    He looked around and spotted a window with open shutters downstairs. He crept to it and looked in.


    Inside was a simple room with wooden rafters. It had been stripped of all furniture other than a single large wooden table. The walls had been covered with detailed markings, the markings of scriptic magic, just like in his nightmares.


    He squinted in at the writing. It felt wrong, he saw several symbols he remembered from his nightmares, but they looked inaccurate, shaky and poorly made.


    He remembered Hildegard''s warning back when she''d still gone by the name Old Mother Hecate. She''d warned that even a small mistake in scripitic magic could have disastrous consequences.


    The door to the room opened, and Refenial froze, hoping the overgrowth would be enough to hide him. Old Father Tun came through the door, wearing one of the green robes with strange markings, the hood down.


    Another man followed behind. Refenial confirmed it was the same man as at the door when he heard him speak a moment later. "The ritual has very specific timing, brother. If we''d missed it, it would have been over a year before we could have tried again."


    "I keep telling you, Kirn, you little brat, stop calling me brother."


    Kirn sighed, "It''s in the book. Certain levels of decorum are expected. It will help with the flow of the ritual."


    Tun grunted, "Well, I''m here now, so let''s get this done. Where''s your wife?"


    "She''s upstairs with Ilia. I''ll go help bring her down."


    Kirn left, and there were the sounds of heavy footsteps going up the stairs. Several long moments passed, and Refenial heard the sound of two heavier footsteps coming back down the stairs.


    Kirn came in the room walking backwards, carrying something, someone by the legs, Refenial realized.


    Another figure dressed in robes, hood up, entered the room holding onto the arms of the person they were carrying.


    Kirn and the other robed individual, Ilia Refenial guessed, roughly put the person they were carrying onto the table.


    Refenial looked on in growing horror. The figure on the table was a young woman, tightly bound and gagged, both eyes blackened and the parts of her skin visible a colourful patchwork of bruises in various states of healing.


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    The figure he assumed was Ilia bent over the woman and spoke in a soft but vicious voice, "He was too good for you, but we had some fun, didn''t we? Shame we had to leave the gag on. I''d love to hear you scream." She spat in the bound woman''s face.


    Kirn chuckled, and Tun sighed.


    "I''m not here to watch your girlfriend torment your wife. If I''m gone too long, people will notice." Tun said.


    Kirn gently rubbed Ilia''s back, "You had plenty of time with her, dear. It''s time for the ceremony."


    Ilia somehow managed to convey that she was pouting despite her face still being covered, "Okaaaay..."


    Now Refenial was closer to the robed figures. He could see the symbols on their robes were, like those on the walls of the room, also of much poorer quality.


    "I''ll go get the dagger and the book," Ilia said cheerfully, leaving the room.


    The woman on the table whimpered and squirmed slightly. Kirn walked over to her, gently putting his hand on her shoulder, "Sorry, dear. It''s just you were... boring. Ilia is so fun and unpredictable. I know you want me to be happy. Just think of this as you finally succeeded at that, finally succeeding at something."


    Refenial knew he had to act, he considered running to get help, but it would take too long to get to the green where the fair was and find Elagabalus. He didn''t know where Nia was either.


    If he didn''t do something, the woman, obviously a human sacrifice, would die, and maybe a shoddy scriptic spell would be activated. If that happened, for all he knew, the whole town would be in danger. He looked closely at Tun and Kirn. They looked human. If they were human, maybe he could beat them in a fight.


    He hated the idea that these disgusting people were human. At least monsters were, well, monsters, to act like this was just what they were. That humans would sink so low was sickening. He''d seen awful people before, the muggers, the bandits, but the obviously pre-meditated callousness of this was evil to a whole new level.


    Ilia came back into the room, practically skipping with excitement, a book in one hand and a large dagger in the other.


    Kirn took the book and opened it up, "Are we ready, brethren?" He asked the other two.


    Ilia nodded excitedly, and Tun sighed.


    Kirn put his hand to his face in clear exasperation. "Remember, the decorum. The book is very clear on that. Once the ritual begins, we must follow the teachings, Ilia you must refer to Me and Tun as ''Brother'', and we must refer to you as ''Sister''."


    "This is stupid. I can''t see why some powerful immortal will care what we''re calling each other." Tun said.


    Kirn shot him a sharp look, "The book was very clear, and we''ve already had this conversation several times."


    There was a long moment of silence where Kirn glared at his fellow cultists.


    "Let us begin, brethren," Kirn said pointedly.


    "Yes, Brother." Tun and Ilia both said.


    Kirn began to read from the book, "Oh, great and terrible Uligortha... Uligutha... Uligrother. We, your humble servants, seek your unworldly attention."


    Refenial had no more time. He pulled out his dagger and his whistle.


    "We give unto your dark embrace this unworthy sacrifice. We give it as freely as we give our hearts and souls unto you."


    He opened his soul''s eyes and focused on the whistle.


    "We beseech you, oh one of infinite wonder. Please bless us,"


    Refenial snuck closer to the window, knowing that he''d have only seconds when the whistle was played.


    "Make us your tools through which your purpose might be wrought on this world."


    Refenial stood playing his whistle loud and clear. It rang out like the wail of a banshee, the note he played high and sharp.


    The cultists all dropped to the floor.


    Refenial scrambled through the window, knowing every second would count. Tun was the nearest person. Refenial vaulted to him and raised his dagger high.


    Refenial''s eyes met with the old man''s. It reminded him of that moment in the twisted house where his eyes had met the monsters, that moment when he''d had to put aside all questions of mercy and empathy to kill. It had been hard then. It was harder now. It was a human in front of him, looking up with terrified, pleading eyes.


    He heard Kirn groan behind him. He knew he had no time for mercy.


    He stabbed once, twice, thrice. Once again, like that day, the air was heavy with the smell of blood, and he could taste something salty on his lips.


    There were two more. He knew that this time. He whirled as Ilia, still on the ground, gave a shrill squealing shriek of murderous rage.


    Kirn had half sat up.


    He considered using the whistle again, but he didn''t trust that he''d have the time he needed to do so. Instead, he launched himself towards Kirn, his next nearest target.


    Kirn started reaching for the dagger that he''d dropped but failed as Refenial barreled into him dagger first.


    The pair tumbled over, and Refenial looked down. His dagger had pierced the man''s eye, his other eye staring up vacantly.


    There was a terrible wail of misery that made Refenial''s already hammering heart beat faster. He looked across, and Ilia had sat up and was staring at Refenial and Kirn. Her hood had fallen back, showing a young woman.


    Her face was twisted into an ugly look of grief. "Kirn!" She screamed out with such heart-breaking misery that Refenial instinctively felt a wave of crushing guilt wash over him.


    She looked up from the body of her fallen lover slowly until her eyes met Refenial''s.


    Refenial looked back into the blue eyes of the woman. There was an intensity of anger, grief and madness there.


    She screamed at him, a stream of words that were made incomprehensible by her grieving mania.


    Refenial pulled his dagger back, ready to face her, and she charged at him.


    He stabbed at her, his dagger digging deep into her side, but it didn''t even begin to slow her. She slammed into him, still not slowing, and then he slammed into the wall behind.


    The force made him drop his whistle and let go of the dagger still embedded into her side.


    He coughed and spluttered under the force of the impact. Ila came to a stop, her face inches from his.


    Her eyes, wide and insane, took up most of his vision, so close as to be blurry.


    He could smell her laboured breathing and hear her rasping breath.


    She grabbed at his throat as he tried to grab for the dagger in her side.


    He pulled the dagger free, not even the hint of a flinch on her face as he did.


    Her hands squeezed around his throat.


    He stabbed at her again. Though the angle took most of the power from the blow, he still felt the dagger sink in.


    She squeezed harder.


    He stabbed again.


    The corners of his vision began to dim.


    He stabbed again.


    He could feel his thoughts becoming hazy.


    He stabbed again.


    His vision was almost completely given over to darkness.


    He stabbed again.


    He felt his consciousness fading.


    He tried to stab again, but it all felt so distant. He felt the dagger strike something, but he lost his grip on it as he did, unsure if he had succeeded.


    He felt himself falling a fraction of a second too late as he hit the floor before he''d had a chance to brace himself.


    He lay there on the floor, his head swimming. He could breathe, though. He realized Ilia must have let go of him.


    He tried to breathe and clear his vision, but it took him a few hammering heartbeats.


    Ilia was on the ground in front of him, cradling her bleeding side as she pulled herself towards the ritual dagger.