《Soulseeker》


 Chapter 1 - The hunt

    Lithoniel


    Lithoniel could feel the fire, the inexorable heat brushing against her chiseled face and the tiny drops of sweat pouring from her chin. She was crouching down, hiding in a cleft grim and gray as the cloak enveloping her lean body.A ragged hood covered her face, except for a strand of curly hair, silver as moonlight during the day but darker and closer to ashes in the night.And dark was the night, but not dark enough, not for where they were hiding, even less for what they were hunting.


    Lithoniel frowned and squinted her eyes when she heard another crackle, followed by a burst of heat and light. It came from below, where the fire dug deep inside the hard rock winning a fight lasted hundreds of years.The result was a canal slithering between the steep slopes of two mountains like a canyon crossed by a river in the middle. However, there was no water, only what humans and elves alike called muddyfire. Something close to magma, but way more volatile.


    Lithoniel turned to the left, where her fellow hunters, the Phinoriel brothers laid, hidden behind a huge rock with the same size of a small hut. Rolim, the older of the two, shook his head at her mute question, as she knew he would. The frown on her face deepened. Her aversion to this plan was even greater than her dislike for its architect, the Nightstalker. She''d offered suggestions to the man, alternatives for something she''d believed to be dangerous and reckless. But why the glorious Nightstalker should have listened to her, a youngling that had seen less than twenty winters?


    And this was the result. She was relegated to the back of the group, no more than a bystander to the events about to unfold.


    She was about to recriminate again inside her mind when she heard a low whistle coming from below, at the base of the mountain where the slope was softer. She looked down while her almond eyes easily pierced the darkness and the thin layer of steam raising from the canal. The other hunters were spread thin in groups of two or three, with the veterans and Nightstalker in the front, merely fifty steps away from the canal. They were blended perfectly with the surrounding rocks.


    When Rolim pointed to the middle of the canal, Lithoniel saw the ripples on the muddyfire orange surface, like bubbles rising from the deep. They were moving toward the left bank, where the Nightstalker and the others awaited.


    When the hunters below began to unfasten their bows, Lithoniel saw the Phinoriel brothers doing the same. Not that it would do them any good, they were too far. When the bubbles were close to the left bank what they were looking for, the prey they were looking for, came out. The Zaruk colossal head rose, spraying incandescent magma all around it. Its black eyes, small like tiny holes for a body of its size, lazily peeked at the point just below the Nightstalker and his men.


    It is huge. It was Lithoniel first thought. A huge beast with four legs, a round tortoise on its back and thick gray skin, hard as stone. It was close to a turtle, but the size was so different that it was hard to think they belonged to the same species. It was bigger than a horse, bigger than any house Lithoniel saw, even bigger than the mythical elephants of the east. The Zaruk stepped on a rock with its jagged, scaled foot before starting to climb the slope. At every step, Lithoniel could hear the vibrations transmitting from rock to rock and the fetid smell of brimstone coming out like a thick mist from the beast''s mouth.


    The Nightstalker lifted his arm with his palm open, waiting for the beast to take the bait and slip inside the path he''d made for it. He raised one finger, then two and pointed at the beast left side and back. The hunters repeated the signal to the men in the back, swarming like ants around the Zaruk in complete silence. They used every nook and cranny as cover, their gray cloak confounding with the rocks below.


    When every hunter was in position, the formation took the shape of a prism with men awaiting at every angle surrounding the Zaruk like a net. The beast almost moved to the point they wanted before stopping. It sniffed crouching down, its head turning to the left, right and then in the front again. The bait waited there, inviting and unguarded. It was like a banquet for the Zaruk, an assortment of garnets, topaz, and rubies the turtle loved to eat.


    One step, just one step.Lithoniel kept repeating inside her mind like a litany, hoping of being wrong. A man would have been suspicious, expected a trap, but the Zaruk was just a beast. Wasn''t it?


    However, her worries seemed unfounded. When the turtle finally stepped forward to take its prize, what seemed to be steady rocks collapsed under its foot.


    The Zaruk crumbled downward, roaring and raging before vanishing inside the pitfall. A loud sound of broken rocks and a tremor, similar to an earthquake, shook the base of the mountain. The Zaruk roared again, but it seemed more like a soft wail this time, the beast last howl before death.


    Lithoniel and the Phinoriel brothers exchanged a glance.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Did it work?It was the mute question in their eyes.


    Lithoniel saw the bony figure of the Nightstalker, raising his hand, his palm open as he made the signal to wait. Then he moved closer to the pitfall. He bent over the edge of the scarp, squinting his eyes to see through the smoke and dust raised by the beast''s fall. However, what he found were two black eyes, shining like obsidian and staring back at him. The Nightstalker didn''t even have time to scream before the Zaruk''s jaws were on him. The beast swallowed him whole. Then it roared, showing a row of rotten teeth, bulky but flat. It was roar that embodied pure rage, the Zaruk anger against the ants that dared to defy it.


    Lithoniel saw the hunters releasing the arrows in their bows, some aiming at the beast''s head, other simply shooting randomly at the tortoise, their minds twisted by fear.


    "Stop!" Lithoniel shouted, but it was too late.


    The flint heads were like toothpicks against the Zaruk''s exoskeleton. Lithoniel saw one arrow hitting the Zaruk''s eye, only to bounce back with the wooden shaft split in half at the impact with the hard pupil''s membrane.


    The Zaruk lifted its head without caring about the elves meaningless attacks. Its jaw, mouth, and chin began to tremble, and a thin line of smoke rose from its nostrils. Lithoniel knew what that meant. They all knew.


    "Run!" She yelled, and the shout was repeated by the hunters around. However, some weren''t fast enough or so terrorized, they simply stared at the colossal beast with their eyes wide open and a look of horror on their faces.


    The Zaruk''s head went down, opening its mouth to spray muddyfire in a semi-circle all around him. It was something way worse than simple fire, a cascade of magma turning into nothingness everything it found on its path.


    Jumping from rock to rock as only an elf could, Lithoniel saw a hunter burning like a torch before becoming ashes, and a woman no older than her writhing in pain as she tried to put off the fire devouring her eye, only to discover that her hands too melted. A drop, a single tiny drop was enough to dig a hole through flesh and bone.


    The well trained and experienced company quickly became a bunch of men and women running for their lives. Climbing the mountain with the Zaruk still on their tail was madness and jumping in the canal below was almost as bad as facing the beast. The only path was in the middle, flanking the mountain till the end of the canyon. However, the hunters weren''t thinking straight anymore. Half dozen of them tried to climb up, only to slip on the rocks before crumbling down, screaming and disappearing inside the river below.


    Others stumbled and fell, becoming food to appease the Zaruk''s fury.


    They are too close to each other!


    "Scatter!"Lithoniel shouted. She was surprised to find that they actually did as she said. It was emblematic of how desperate they were.


    However, it was too little too late.


    She just delayed the inevitable. The beast was too close. She had to draw its attention and fast.


    Damn it!She stopped and turned, taking up the bow.


    "Lithoniel!" Rolim shouted, his voice urgent.


    Lithoniel didn''t look at him, she had no time. She notched an arrow and released the bowstring.


    She didn''t need to aim, the target was too big to fail. Then, she turned tail and run.


    "Follow me!" She said to the Phinoriel brothers.


    From the enraged roar coming from behind her, she did hit it. The beast was furious, charging without bothering to avoid the obstacles in its path. It simply smashed everything into smithereens.


    I drew its attention. Now what?She could feel the rocks shaking. The Zaruk was getting closer. She turned her head to check its movements, only to see a gigantic leg raising over the last hunter in the back.


    "Dodg.." She began, but the noise of smashed bones froze the words in her mouth. The hunter''s body was flat and thin on the ground, his blood painting the beast''s paw.


    Lithoniel saw a glint of wisdom shining in the Zaruk small eyes, the cunningness coming from ages of undisturbed dominion over the Embersea. It wasn''t simply picking the easiest target, but staring specifically at her. It was like it knew who was the leader as if it could understand their speech.


    This is no beast!Her instinct was screaming. She rolled behind a rock just before the Zaruk opened his mouth, breathing death over her. It was simple fire this time, maybe less lethal but way more unpredictable.


    Lithoniel gritted her teeth, her fear reflected in Rolim''s eyes.


    We''re not gonna make it.


    They couldn''t lose the Zaruk over the rugged terrain, and the end of the canyon was still hundreds of feet away.


    "Turn Left!"She shouted, pointing to a small pass less than fifty steps away.


    From the look the brothers gave her, Lithoniel knew they understood what she was planning.


    And they didn''t like it.


    The Zaruk kept chasing them, focusing its attention on Lithoniel. She jumped three meters over a crevice before rolling on the hard ground, feeling her arm cracking as she slammed against a rock. She winced but bolted up, zig-zagging on the mountainside without thinking about the pain. Every time the Zaruk was closer, and each time Lithoniel dodged just at the last moment.


    No matter if it was luck or not, the Zaruk was was getting angry. Small spheres of fire came out from its nostrils, darting like tiny fireballs before spreading out on the ground. Lithoniel ducked to dodge one, crawled in a hollow to avoid the second and disappeared behind a rock when the Zaruk was ready to launch the third. It was like she had eyes behind her head, or she could predict the beast attacks.


    The roar that followed was full of anger and frustration. The Zaruk charged head-on without caring about plans or tactics anymore. Exactly what she was aiming for.


    When she turned to the small pass, the beast was on her tail. Lithoniel and the brothers plunged their grappling hooks on the rock''s face and jumped down the ravine. In its madness, the Zaruk didn''t even try to stop its momentum and opened its mouth to swallow her whole. It only saw the abyss below when it was too late, its mouth coming dangerously close to her as It fell down, releasing one last howl filled with rancor and anger.


    Suspended in the void, Lithoniel sighed seeing the dust raised in the black valley, thousands of feet below.


    It was over, but at what cost?

 Maps

NORTH


    SOUTHUnauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    World Map

 Chapter 2 - Aftermath

    Lithoniel


    Lithoniel wanted to climb the rope, but her left arm hung lifeless on her side, and even she wasn''t so crazy to lift herself up with just one hand. She waited for Rolim and his brother''s help instead. Once she was on solid ground, Lithoniel noticed Rolim was giving her an odd look. The muscular elf was frowning like he didn''t know if he should scold or praise her. His brother Kolvar, a thin man with a jovial face, was way more straightforward.


    "Are you alright?"He asked, concern showing on his face.


    Lithoniel nodded, though she couldn''t really feel her left arm at all.


    Kovlar relaxed, evidently relieved, but Rolim didn''t fall for it.


    He looked down at her arm and then up at her face, shaking his head with disapproval. But he didn''t expose her with Kolvar, something she was thankful of.


    Rolim''s younger brother could be really fussy, especially when she was involved.


    "Lithoniel!" Someone shouted, waving his hand from the pass entrance.


    She shuddered when she noticed who was calling her.


    Garluin.


    If there was someone she liked even less than the deceased Nightstalker was his protegee, Garluin. He was the same person who always reminded her she had no place inside the tribe, sometimes even winding up his thugs when words failed to convey the message.


    Garluin was a bully, but a devious one. He seldom acted in person and preferred to use others to attain his ends. The only person she wished he had died, one of the few that still lived.


    The story of her life.


    Garluin grew close, half dozen hunters following him. He showed off his best smile, the same smile that could make women of all age swoon. Because that was another problem with him; he was handsome---though in a cruel way---and charming if he wished to be.


    Lithoniel, for her part, found that smile just repulsive.


    His eyes on the other hand...


    They were pale green, glittering like two emeralds with the reflected light of the nearby fires. Oddly hypnotic.


    Before she knew, Garluin had already closed the gap and was rubbing her broken arm. But it was a gentle touch, almost a caress.


    "We should bandage this arm" His voice sounded mellow, reasonable. Until she remembered whom she was talking to and wiggled away. Garluin laughed, sounding deeply amused.


    "Garluin" Kolvar hissed, hands balled as he stepped menacingly toward him. "You have no shame.."Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    But Lithoniel barred his way.


    "How many made it?" She asked, stopping Kolvar from doing something he would have regretted later.


    Garluin cheek twinged while he tried to hide the cruel smirk warping his mouth. Lithoniel had learned to know very well that expression, only the target wasn''t her this time but Kolvar. The young elf stared back, his hand reaching for the knife tied to his belt.


    "How many?" She asked again, and from the tone of her voice, it was clear she had enough of the men staring contest.


    When Kolvar humphed and stepped away, the tension among the small group disappeared.


    "The ones you see" Garluin answered, before adding. "I am sorry to say."


    For sure he didn''t sound sorry. Quite the opposite actually. He seemed to enjoy delivering bad news, or maybe he just liked making her uncomfortable. If that was the case, he succeeded.


    Lithoniel paled, her knees wobbling as she faltered. But she didn''t fall, she wouldn''t give Garluin that satisfaction.


    "Calarel won''t last till morning" Garluin continued like he was unaware of her reaction.


    He pointed to an elf, not far in the back. She knew Calarel. She was close to forty years old; old for an elf, even older for a hunter. But that hunk of scorched flesh wasn''t her. Lithoniel could see the terrible burns on her body, the parts where the fire left just cracked skin on her face.


    She shuddered. She could still feel the smell of burnt flesh and the screams, that screams would come back to haunt her later. But not now. For whatever reason, everybody was looking at her, in their gazes the same unshakable faith they had placed in the Nightstalker.


    Her, not Garluin.


    "Can she be saved?" She asked Rolim, trying to keep her voice steady when the only thing she wanted to do was to curl into a ball and cry. But it was Garluin the one to answer.


    "She can''t be saved. For her death will be...a relief" Garluin searched a word adapt to the situation without finding it.


    There was no word for mercy, or compassion if that matters, in the Elven language. It was an empty word devoid of any meaning in a land where the only fate for the weak was death. Lithoniel''s tired mind struggled to decipher the meaning of his words. But when she succeeded, she wished she hadn''t.


    "You don''t mean to..." kill her?


    She swallowed. The words were stuck in her throat.


    "I am afraid there is no other choice" Garluin answered, his face and tone emulating a compassion he didn''t really feel but never ceased to fool his peers.


    Lithoniel watched Rolim, hoping to find a different answer in the young elf''s brown eyes. There wasn''t. He slowly shook his head, his tight lips wavering like he wanted to give her a different answer. But he couldn''t, no one could.


    "I-I..." She stuttered, glancing at the faces of the survivors around her.


    They were waiting for her decision. It was what she always wanted, to be accepted, listened. And yet, right now the only thing she could think of was running away, crawl into a hole somewhere and empty her stomach.


    In the end, it was Rolim the one to rescue her.


    "I''ll deal with it." He said, making a step forward.


    "Rolim.." She started to plead.


    But to say, what? They couldn''t wait here for long, and leave the woman alive, or worse, behind.


    "I''ll deal with it" Rolim repeated, his gaze shifting toward Garluin. "And you will help me"


    The eldest of the Phinoriel brothers wasn''t tall, not for the elves standards at least. However, the muscles bulging from his chest and arms were unusual for one of his kind. He was solid like a bastion, and the simple look he gave Garluin was way more intimidating than Kolvar''s previous threat.


    Garluin opened his mouth, likely to protest, but closed it as he saw the look on Rolim''s face. When Rolim headed toward the wounded elf, he followed him. Most of the hunters looked away at that point, but not Lithoniel. She had to see it.


    Rolim crouched down near Calarel, saying something to the wounded elf while he took out the knife. Lithoniel flinched, feeling the taste of bile in her mouth when he slit her throat, but she kept looking till the end.


    Then she threw up.


    At that moment a sudden gust of wind lowered her hood, scrambling her hair. The survivors closed their eyes enjoying the momentary relief from the heat. But not Lithoniel. It was a crisp wind, coming from the north, not the east, forecasting the winter''s arrival. It screeched on the fissure of rocks and small caves of stone, like a wail maybe...or a roar.

 Chapter 3 - The offer

    Lithoniel


    Lithoniel often dreamed about her first command, of the day she would be the one to take the decisions. It wasn''t because she craved power or position, but simply because she wanted to be accepted, acknowledged for her talents and for once, not shunned for her looks. But leading this ragged bunch wasn''t what she dreamed of. They were broken, their souls crushed by the weight of death and the horrors they were forced to witness. Not that it was surprising. Fifty hunters left the tribe in search of food, and merely twelve were coming back.


    What really surprised her was that only the weak and young survived. It was like a breach, a rupture of a principle deeply engraved in the collective minds of every elf. Only the strong survive. An unwritten law more than a maxim repeated over and over to the elf children since the day they were born. Yet, there was no veteran left in the small company toiling on the hillside. Lithoniel, the Phinoriel brothers, and Garluin were the oldest, but even they were merely younglings still waiting to become full-fledged hunters. The others were just children, and little was expected from them except to watch and learn.


    "Lithoniel" Kolvar called, drawing her attention back to the present.


    He ran to reach Lithoniel and his brother in the vanguard, three or four hundred steps from the rest of the group. The young man was slim and his features sharp like many elves, but there was something soft in his brown eyes. The innocence of a child, untainted by the harshness of the Embersea. He didn''t seem dependable but sweet like a younger brother or a puppy following her around and wagging its tail.


    "At this rate, we won''t reach the village before dusk." Kolvar said, turning his head back.


    The elves were shuffling their feet on the stony soil, their eyes hollow.


    Lithoniel nodded absentmindedly. But then she noticed both Kolvar and Rolim were looking at her and realized what that meant.


    They are waiting for orders. My orders.


    It was strange, but for better or worse, she was in command. Lithoniel cleared her throat, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to endure the dull ache in her broken arm.


    "We need to set out camp. Rolim..."


    "I''ll scout the area." He preceded her, his words practical and short like he didn''t want to waste any more time with pointless words.


    Rolim started to pick up the pace, but Lithoniel stopped him, her hand holding tightly on his forearm. He lifted his eyebrows, stared down at her hand, then up at her face. But Lithoniel was looking down, suddenly very interested in her shoes.


    "Only..." She hesitated, her lips tight as she slowly looked up, meeting his gaze, "Don''t go too far. We need you."


    "I won''t." He struggled to smile like he wasn''t used to it.


    Rolim had a square face, average for the most, even rough for the elves standards. But when he smiled, he looked like a completely different person from the brooding shadow he usually was. Lithoniel looked at him startled. This was the third time in eighteen years that she had seen him smile. She wanted to look at that "phenomenon" for some more time when she heard someone clearing his throat.


    It was Kolvar.


    "I should go." Rolim said, and the moment was over.


    He reverted to his usual self, hurrying to scout ahead. Lithoniel followed him with her eyes until he disappeared from the view. Then she sighed, turning to look at Kolvar.


    Something passed on Kovlar''s face as he stared at his brother retreating back. A frown maybe, swiftly replaced by a caring expression when he looked at Lithoniel.


    "What is it, Kolvar?" Lithoniel sounded annoyed.


    But if he noticed it, he didn''t show it.


    "We may have a problem." He said instead.


    Another one?


    She followed his gaze and grimaced. She had to agree with him. That was a big problem. It was Garluin.


    "He wasted no time before starting to recruit children for his little cult." Kolvar muttered.


    Lithoniel scowled. She saw Garluin walking close to an elf girl, a hand on her shoulder as he whispered something in her ear. It was Liara, the youngest among the small group, barely thirteen years old.


    "This was her first hunt." Kolvar said quietly from beside her.


    Lithoniel shook her head. It''ll take a miracle to forget what happened. Most likely she''ll be scarred for life.


    Garluin was using that, enticing her when she was most weak. He was a master at that.


    "He coped quickly with the grief." Kolvar said.


    Lithoniel glared at him, but just because he was talking too loud.


    Besides, Kovlar was right, this wasn''t a man grieving for his mentor''s death, but someone planning something. She became certain of this when Garluin turned - probably realizing she was looking at him - and smirked. He said something to Liara before heading directly toward Lithoniel. When he was some steps away, Kovlar came forth, putting himself between the two of them.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    "What do you want?" Kovlar glared at him, arms crossed as he attempted to look threatening.


    Garluin stared at him like he was looking at an insect, his gaze slipping after him to look at Lithoniel. Then he smiled, smugly, with that intrinsic air of superiority she hated.


    "I have something to tell you."


    "And I suppose it''s just a coincidence that you waited for Rolim to walk away before doing that?"


    Garluin''s jaw twitched, "I think you''ll want to hear this."


    He tried to flaunt that signature smile of his, but it had lost its luster.


    Lithoniel sighed, "If you want to talk, talk."


    Kolvar looked back at her, doubt appearing on his face.


    "Are you sure?" He asked.


    "I am." I think.


    "Didn''t you hear her?" Kolvar barked, stepping back at her side. "Talk, if you must."


    "Very well then." Garluin took a deep breath, "Lithoniel, daughter of ashes. The people have chosen."


    Lithoniel stiffened. Daughter of ashes. Daughter of no one. The epithet hurt, but it wasn''t the reason she was nervous. She recognized these words, they were part of a specific ceremony. An investiture.


    "Don''t..." She started, but Garluin was still talking.


    "They have chosen you." He said, and his words were repeated like a chant by the others.


    They started to converge on her, forming a circle with Lithoniel at the center. Then Garluin knelt in front of her, head down, his arms stretched forward and his palm upwards. Lithoniel stopped breathing when she saw what he had inside his hands. It was the Nightstalker''s ring. The symbol of his title. It was made of obsidian, black and opaque inside Garluin''s hands.


    "You can''t do this." She whispered.


    "The people have chosen." Garluin repeated, the ceremonial words weighing on her like a boulder.


    "Not all the people." She countered.


    "I am the Nightstalker''s heir." Garluin replied, a bit of his innate arrogance leaking out.


    "But you aren''t the Nighstalker."


    Lithoniel was wary. The entire situation felt wrong. Why was Garluin so hellbent on yielding a title which was rightfully his? To her of all people? It made no sense.


    Garluin opened his mouth and closed it, a cunning expression appearing on his face.


    "Maybe not, but I can still nominate you. And after what you did with the Zaruk, do you really think someone will oppose?"


    More than one, actually. She knew her tribesmen well, and no matter what kind of feat she achieved, the chances she had to be elected were nonexistent.


    "You are a hero Lithoniel." Garluin continued, "You saved all of us. And like I said, the people have chosen."


    His arm described an arc, pointing at the people around her. They were nodding, smiling: something close to devotion in their faces. Her lips trembled, a wave of emotion sweeping through her as she realized they really wanted her to lead them.


    "Just accept it." Kolvar muttered.


    She tried to force back the tears threatening to come out from her eyes. She failed. So she bent over to hide them, her trembling fingers reaching for the ring in Garluin''s hands.


    When she touched it, when that black polished stone was inside her hand, she took a glimpse at Garluin''s face. He was smiling.


    Her breath caught in her throat and she felt like one thousand snakes were crawling on her skin. That wasn''t the expression of a person who just yielded his title to a woman he loathed, but the satisfied smile of someone who achieved his goal. It was gone when he stood up, replaced by a mild and generous expression, his hands joined on his chest while he watched her. He looked like the image of someone selfless who yielded his title for the greater good.


    "You deserved it." Kolvar said, his words followed by a chorus of congratulations by the elves around her. Lithoniel answered with a half smile, but her heart wasn''t in it. Not entirely at least.


    She kept staring intently at Garluin. She had a bad feeling, the impression the show just started. It became a certainty when Garluin raised his hands, warning the others to stay quiet.


    "I have just one last request." He said, raising his index finger. "From the former Nightstalker''s successor to the new one."


    "You little..." Kolvar started, his head whipping back to look at Lithoniel. "You don''t have to listen to him."


    He was wrong. Lithoniel could feel it when she looked at the faces of the elves around her, detected the expectation in their gazes.


    "I have to" She whispered.


    Garluin had just sacrificed himself. She had at least to listen to him, even if she had the impression everything he had done so far was in preparation for this precise moment.


    "What is it that you want?" She asked, her voice toneless and low.


    "Me? Nothing." He shook his head. "It''s not for me that I''m asking for, but her" He pointed to someone at the far edge of the circle.


    It was Liara, a frightened mouse standing alone on the sidelines. She was small, way shorter than five foot, her unruly coppery hair like a formless bush surrounding her scared face. She hiccuped and seemed to grow even smaller when everyone turned to look at her.


    Lithoniel looked at Garluin, confusion evident on her face.


    "I want you to protect her." He clarified. "Both her parents were hunters who died for the tribe. And now, because of the Zaruk, she even lost her brothers, the only family she had left. She is the youngest among us, and she is alone."


    One could say a lot of thing about Garluin, but he was a consummate actor, capable of captivating the crowd like no one else. Everyone - Kolvar included - was eating out of his hand, waiting for his words, to hear that perfectly modulated voice narrate the next part of the story.


    "Of course I''ll protect her." She said, choosing her words carefully. She was sure there was a trap somewhere, but she couldn''t see where. "Like I would protect every hunter under my command."


    But Garluin shook his head.


    "No, Lithoniel that''s not what I meant. I want you to personally guarantee she''ll be safe. Just until we are back to the tribe, of course." He added like it made any difference.


    Lithoniel''s lips parted, while she was too shocked to formulate an answer. But Kolvar didn''t have such problems.


    "Are you mad?" He half shouted. "How can you think she..." He began, but Lithoniel interrupted him.


    "...I''ll do it."


    Kolvar looked at her like she had gone crazy.


    "Lithoniel you know what means. You know what..."


    "I know" She cut him out.


    Oh, she knew, she knew all too well. If she promised to protect her, she was honor-bound to do so, even at the expense of her own life. It was one of the oldest and most sacred of the elves'' vows.


    That''s why very few people dared to swear it. Failing to uphold the vow meant to become lower than a beast inside the elves'' society, as Garluin knew well.


    However, she really had no other choice. She saw what kind of effect Garluin''s story had on the survivors. But above all, she saw the look in Liara''s face, the hopelessness, and fear in her eyes. After seeing that, how could she refuse?


    "Fine then" Kolvar sighed, his shoulders dropping like he gave up. "Do as you like."


    "I''ll do it." She repeated.


    "You swear it?" Garluin asked, his face unnaturally serious.


    Lithoniel nodded, very slowly.


    "I swear."


    Garluin looked around him, his eyes dwelling on every single elf like he was taking notes of the hunters nearby, the witnesses of her vow.


    Then he smiled, "Well then. You lifted a burden off my shoulders. I can rest well now that I know little Liara is safe and sound." He said and then walked past her, followed after a while by the others hunters.


    Liara came for last.


    "Thank you." The small elf said to her, though Lithoniel had almost to read her lips to understand what she was saying. Then Liara bowed, hurrying after Garluin.


    "That guy."Kolvar said, shaking his head. "He doesn''t miss a chance to make himself look good."


    But Lithoniel had something else in her mind.


    "Do me a favor and keep an eye on Liara." She said to him, her eyes staring at Garluin''s retreating figure like she wanted to dig a hole in his back.


    Kolvar furrowed his brow. "Liara? Not Garluin?"


    Lithoniel shook his head.


    "Liara" She repeated.


    She wasn''t sure why, but there was something off about what Garluin said at the end.Something ominous.

 Chapter 4 - The offer 2

    Lithoniel


    It was already dark when Rolim came back, the sky going from the sick gray of the day to pitch black. The atmosphere among the small group was tense as they scrambled on the last stretch of the Asp Ridge. Tense and quiet, because they were coming dangerously close to one of the most feared areas of the entire Embersea: the Great Chasm. It was the reminder of a past long gone, the legacy of a fallen civilization. Their civilization.


    However, the problem they were facing now had nothing to do with the past. Placed between the insurmountable mountains of the New Peaks in the west and the boiling waters of the Coals river in the east, skimming along the eastern border of the Great Chasm was the shortest way to go north and reach their tribe.


    The only alternative was to make a long detour, going south past the frozen lake, then west, bordering the southern edge of the Asp Ridge. Only then they could finally go north, taking the Ash Marshes until they reached the desolation of the Great Penumbra where their tribe was located. It was a two-hundred leagues journey across one of the most dangerous zones of the Embersea. They had neither the time nor the resources for that. Which was why they had to take the direct route. But if the direction was clear the course of action wasn''t.


    "I still think we should continue." Lithoniel said to Rolim, voice low so that the people in the back could not hear it, "Cross it now and set a camp once we are on the Great Penumbra."


    The two of them were at the head of the group, a bit ahead of the rest of hunters.


    "Lithoniel, it would take the entire night to do that." Rolim answered. From his voice, it was clear he was trying to sound reasonable, but the long discussion was eroding his patience. "Besides, you really think they are up for that? You saw them. They are about to fall apart. And you know what kind of place the Chasm is, what threat those hills can pose to us. One wrong step and you are dead."


    She shivered hearing his deep and throaty voice. She knew what he was talking about.


    The Hollows. They were the hills enveloping the Great Chasm like the iris of an eye. It wasn''t a case if they picked that name. The hills were mostly empty inside, the rocky surface layer no more than a shell, a bait for the careless. In reality, the rocks were brittle and prone to crumble, while there were crevasses hidden everywhere, scattered randomly across the hills. The entire area was unstable, a huge death trap surrounding the deep abyss at its center; what the elves called the Great Chasm, what once had been their capital.


    "The Hollows aren''t a place to be taken lightly during the day, much less in a night like this." Rolim continued, his words chiding like he was scolding a child half of her age.


    Lithoniel grimaced. His words stung, most of all because they bore the accent of truth. The rest of the hunters were walking in a single line with Kolvar in the rear, no more than fifty steps away from her. She could see the young elf, but barely, his features almost indiscernible in the darkness.


    Rolim is right. We can''t cross it now. She said that to him.


    Rolim furrowed his brow. "Why did you change your mind in the first place?"


    Lithoniel bit her lips, averting her gaze. That''s what she was afraid of; having to answer his questions.


    "I didn''t."


    Rolim frowned harder. She sighed, looking ahead, trying to find a way to say it. The landscape began to change as they started to climb down, leaving the mountains for a barren plain, some sort of divide between the Asp Ridge and the Great Chasm.


    "It''s not like I don''t want to camp. It''s the place that''s the problem." She said at the end. "It''s too close to the Chasm."


    Rolim shook his head like he didn''t understand.


    "The plains are too exposed, and you know what lurks inside the Ridge. You have seen it." He said.


    She nodded, repressing her shivers at the memory.


    "But the Chasm is perfect, no animal or elf lives there." Rolim continued. "So, why?"


    She looked down, staring at her nails.


    "You know what they say about the Chasm, Rolim." Her voice was soft and low. "No man spent the night there and survived"


    Something flickered in Rolim''s eyes, realization dawning on his face. "You are not one of them, Lithoniel. You are one of us."


    His voice wasn''t high but harsh. It wasn''t aimed at her. It was like a dare, a warning against whoever wanted to say otherwise. Lithoniel was grateful for that. She started to smile, comforted by his words until she looked down at her hand and that smile vanished for good. There were five fingers on that hand. Five, not six like all the others elves.


    She looked away, hiding her face from Rolim. She didn''t want to show the bitterness she was feeling to him. She thought about leaving, reaching Kolvar in the rear, but the relationship with the youngest brother had been strained since he discovered about her injury. Kolvar hadn''t taken well the fact she was hiding things from him, stubbornly insisting on bandaging her arm even when she didn''t want him to.


    He couldn''t understand the rest of the hunters were hanging on a thread and their faith in her - the woman who faced the Zaruk and defeated it - was the only thing which kept them going. But most of that faith - if not all of it - was based on a lie, the misplaced conviction she was invulnerable, a being beyond flesh and blood.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Otherwise, how could she have predicted the Zaruk attacks, beating it in its own turf?


    Admitting she was injured would have meant to destroy the image they had of her, crushing the last hope they had left. She couldn''t do that. After all, what was she without that veil of invulnerability? A young girl, just some years older than them, scared and lost like all the others. But Kolvar didn''t want to hear any of this. He was focused solely on her. She was grateful for that, but that didn''t change her decision.


    Besides, going back meant to met Garluin, something she hated to do even in the best of circumstances. The man could smell fear. It was like a natural gift, or maybe a talent honed after a long practice. Fear, after all, was just one of the means he used to entice his victims, bending them to his will. Since she couldn''t move, Lithoniel stayed where she was, trying to maintain a facade of calm. It was then the moon decided to look out from the blanket of clouds, its pale light like a glimmer in the darkness, lighting up their path.


    Lithoniel felt like someone gripped her heart. She could see them, those deceptively soft hills standing out in the distance. The Hollows. They were close. Even worse, the moon disappeared just as fast as it came, leaving them once again in the dark. It seemed like a cruel twist of fate since that glimpse she took did nothing but increase her fears instead of reducing them.


    "The cave is not far." Lithoniel almost jumped at Rolim''s whisper, barely managing a nod as she stared at the path ahead. They reached the cave ten minutes later. Its entrance was no more than a narrow gorge - little different from a hole in the rock - but inside it was way more spacious, enough to accommodate all the elves. As the hunters started to enter and collapse on the hard ground, utterly spent, Lithoniel waited at the side of the entrance, making sure every one of them was accounted for. She sighed with relief when she saw Liara''s coppery hair and frowned seeing who came right after.


    Garluin.


    But it was when she saw Kolvar, her gaze meeting his, that she knew she had to leave. She couldn''t talk to him. Not yet.


    "I''ll explore the cave." She said to Rolim, her voice flat.


    She went deeper inside, the cave narrowing once again into a tunnel so small it was barely big enough for her to get through. Some steps further the tunnel made a turn, ending with a solid wall of rock. A dead end. Lithoniel sighed, starting to lean with her back on the hard wall when she realized someone was behind her. Rolim. She was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn''t noticed he had been following her all along. A bad sign.


    "Are you all right?" He asked.


    Another bad sign. She probably heard him say more words today than in a whole year. Lithoniel nodded, but Rolim frowned. He didn''t believe her, what a surprise. She wouldn''t believe herself either.


    "I will be" She amended. "I have to..."


    That''s when they heard them. Screams. They came from the entrance. The two of them exchanged a glance. Then Rolim started to run, Lithoniel following right behind him. When she came back they saw the others elves standing in a circle, their faces scared but at the same time rapt, morbidly enthralled by what was taking place in the middle. It was a fight. It took some time for her to understand who was the man lying in the dirt. His face was almost unrecognizable, no more than a bloody mask which was rapidly losing his original features.


    Kolvar?!


    The one he was fighting with, or better, beating him to a pulp, was way easier to recognize. It was Garluin. He was over him, a cruel, bloody grin warping his mouth as he pounded on Kolvar''s face with savage abandon.


    "Stop!" Lithoniel shouted, but Garluin was in his own world.


    He kept hitting him, his fist like a blacksmith''s hammer beating on the metal. A pity that Kolvar''s face wasn''t made of steel. The young elf was already unconscious, his nose twisted beyond recognition. Lithoniel made a run for it, thinking of separating them by force if words didn''t work, but Rolim was faster. He kicked Garluin across the face, throwing him off his brother. Garluin tumbled down, rolling on himself a couple of times before stopping, his face down in the dust. He didn''t move anymore. It gave her some amount of satisfaction to see him that way, but she had other concerns at the moment.


    "What happened?" She asked the hunters around her.


    No one answered, most of them lowering their gaze as Lithoniel looked at them.


    "You can talk. No one thinks it''s your fault." Rolim said while he crouched down near his brother, checking how he fared. Lithoniel frowned. She never said it was. Rolim''s words had an unexpected effect on them. Some of them looked up, sneaking a glance at Lithoniel like they were asking if what Rolim said was true.


    They are ashamed. She realized. Afraid of what I might think of them.


    This was one of the less savory side effects of her little lie, one she didn''t like. At all.


    "I won''t blame you for what you did" Or didn''t.


    Since apparently none of them even tried to separate them. At her words, most of them sighed with relief like a burden had been lifted from their shoulders. After that, it didn''t take much before someone started to talk.


    "It was Kolvar." Said Baeris, an elf with hair so blonde that they looked white.


    "A moment he was fine and right after he was attacking Garluin."


    Lithoniel squinted her eyes. "He attacked him for no reason?"


    Baeris nodded.


    "It looked that wa..." He started to say, but Urilee - a hunter just a year or two younger than Lithoniel - interrupted him.


    "That''s not true and you know it!" Urilee said to him, and then to Lithoniel. "Don''t listen to him. His brother Naeran is one of Garluin''s thugs."


    Lithoniel scowled at him. She knew his brother firsthand. He was one of the worst among Garluin''s little gang. Baeris seemed to shrink, his back hunching when she glared at him.


    "What happened?" She asked Urilee, but continued to stare at Baeris.


    "Garluin approached Kolvar and said something to him."


    "What did he say?"


    Urilee shook her head. "I don''t know, his voice was too low."


    Of course it was. Garluin loved secrecy. That''s why this whole thing seemed even more out of character for him.


    "And right after he finished, Kolvar attacked him. Is that right?" Lithoniel asked, more a confirmation than a real question.


    As expected, Urilee nodded.


    He baited Kolvar, wound him up. Not a difficult task. Kolvar was well known for his short temper.


    The question is, why? She looked at Garluin, but he was still out cold. The question had to wait.


    "How is he?" She asked Rolim who had just finished cleaning his brother''s wounds.


    "A little battered" He shrugged. "But he''ll live."


    "That''s good" Her reply a little hesitant. Rolim''s face looked grim, his eyes like two slits.


    "What is it?" She asked.


    "Eleven."


    "What?" Lithoniel shook her head. Maybe she was too tired, but she couldn''t understand what he was saying.


    "It''s Eleven" He repeated. "Not twelve."


    Lithoniel opened her eyes wide as the information started to set in.


    "Who?" She whispered though she had the bad feeling she already knew the answer.


    "Liara." He whispered back, his lips tight. "She.." He moistened his lips, hesitating.


    Right then Lithoniel heard a long sigh, her eyes shifting to see who made it. It was Garluin. He was sitting on the floor, a thin line of blood flowing from a side of his mouth. Their gazes met, and at the same time, Rolim finished what he was trying to say.


    "She disappeared."


    It was just a moment, the blink of an eye, but she could have sworn seeing a smirk on Garluin''s face.

 Chapter 5 - Into the deep 1

    Lithoniel


    The first thing Lithoniel could feel was cold. A cold that seeped deep through her bones, dulling her perception, making her slower and cautious. A pity it couldn''t remove the fear. That fear was something she had started to know as a child, repeated by her teacher during their lessons, like one the few taboos, the things an elf should never do. And yet, it was exactly what she was doing. She was venturing into the Hollows, alone.


    It was bad enough as it was, but the fact she was doing it in the dark and with just one good hand, transformed this endeavor from something reckless to suicide. The only thing she could say in her defense was, she had no choice. She was already dead, like a fresh corpse which had yet to rot. She had been from the moment Liara disappeared. That''s why she pretended to follow Rolim''s advice - wait for the sunlight before searching for Liara - but slipped out as soon as the others fell asleep.


    She didn''t want Rolim, or anyone else, to follow her. One corpse was bad enough, the elves didn''t need two. Not after what they went through. The wind howled, screeching like a furious beast as she followed the trail Liara left behind. The small elf wasn''t hard to follow, far from it. She was traveling in a straight line without stopping or backtracking, her small feet embedded in the ground like footprints on sand. She had the thick layer of ashes to thank for that.


    Yet, she still couldn''t have done it before, not without the moon. It was high and clear in the sky, showing her the right path, or the perfect bait to trap her for good. Because Lithoniel knew where Liara was headed, though she had no idea why. She was going north-east, toward the Hollows inner layer and that big abyss in the middle of it. Liara''s pace was brisk but Lithoniel proceded much more slowly, one step at the time like she was walking on a tightrope. Climbing up looked easy, the soft hills far from the steep slopes of the Asp Ridge, but she was well aware that one mistake could be her last.


    She could see those deep, dark holes surrounding her everywhere. Liara was walking right into it, choosing the worst path possible, the points where every step could mean her doom. Yet, the footprints kept on going forever, like Liara knew exactly where to walk. Like someone was leading her.


    Lithoniel shivered, wiping the cold sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. She remembered the old tales, whispered by the old elves in the few occasions of merrymaking when they loosened up after a drink or two. Tales of soulless creatures crawling in the darkness, deep in the bowels of the earth, seeking the only thing they couldn''t have. In all the stories those creatures always used the weak, clouding their minds to lead the strong into a trap.


    But in these tales, the elves were always on the sidelines, bystanders for something which involved another race, one they hated. Humans. For some reason, that notion didn''t reassure her. She kept retracing Liara''s steps until she arrived somewhere the elves never reached, not in the last one thousand years at least.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    The top of the hills. The breath caught in her throat as she laid her eyes on something she never saw but just heard; a pitch black void which seemed to go down forever, reaching the center of the world or even beyond that. Its size was bigger than she expected, extending for two, maybe three leagues in every direction. But what really surprised her was what laid at the edges.


    Ruins.


    They were everywhere, scattered alongside the chasm border, upside down and destroyed, jumbled together in one tangle of stone and rock, like a vortex or a stairwell going down to oblivion. Of course, that''s where Liara had gone. Down. Lithoniel felt like she was underwater, her mouth wide open, just to drown as she swallowed seawater. But at the end she calmed down as she realized that salty liquid in her mouth was just sweat, pouring down from the side of her head.


    Besides, she didn''t have to conjure some imaginary nightmare of her childhood when the most probable outcome was to slip and fall. A much better way to die than others, and surely faster. With that in mind, she secured the grappling hook on a solid boulder, at least as solid as something in the Hollows could be, and started to drop down. It was hard to do so with one hand, especially when the wind started to blow and the rope to shake like a leaf in the storm.


    But she made it. Lithoniel sighed with relief when her foot touched the ground. She was standing over the ruin of something it must have been a big building at its time.


    Maybe a tower. Lithoniel couldn''t tell. It didn''t really matter.


    The important thing was Liara had gone there, her footprints running over the tower before turning close to a big hole at its side. Lithoniel followed her trail, the building screeching as she walked over it. It was like a long whimper, the tower''s stone grating on the rock below. The entire building laid at the edge of the chasm, more than half of it suspended in the void.


    Better to move. Lithoniel thought as entered inside. She didn''t want to stay a second more than necessary, the entire building could fall at any moment.


    But her plan was fated to fail from the start. There were no more footprints. The trail stopped there. Lithoniel cursed in her mind. There were no indications Liara had left the tower. She had to be somewhere nearby.


    Lithoniel bit her lips and went forward, walking on her tiptoes. She was like a snail, stopping everytime her foot touched the stone''s floor, the noise getting worse as she grown close to the edge of the wall. Then she saw it. A bracelet.


    Lithoniel gasped. She recognized those crimson leaves intertwined around a single root of ebonwood. It belonged to Liara.


    She took a step forward to pick it up, but when she did, the building moved, the floor crumbling under her foot. She tried to hold on to something, anything, as she went down, but there was nothing to grab, just empty air. She went into panic, tossing the only thing she had at hand. The grappling hook.


    The distance was great, her position worse and even the wind seemed to work against her but she made it, against all odds she succeeded. Her descent stopped with a jerk when the steel tip plunged inside a big rock. Her good arm, the one holding the rope, hurt like hell because of the backlash, but she was still breathing. She was still sighing with relief when she heard something, like a crack, coming from above her.


    The hook?


    Another crack followed the first one, then another and another.


    "No" She whispered in horror as she realized what it was.


    The rock was breaking, shattering around the hook like dry clay. Lithoniel tried to swing across on the rope, push herself away from the center of the chasm. She was more than halfway, coming closer and closer to solid ground when the rock broke for good. The hook fell bringing her with it, a little black dot in the vastness of the chasm, screaming into the void.

 Chapter 6 - Into the deep 2

    Lithoniel


    Lithoniel woke startled, an uncontrollable tremor shaking her body. She felt sick, the cold second only to the pain. Her broken arm was just a lump of flesh, she was having trouble breathing without wheezing and she was wet from head to toe for some reason. But the biggest problem was she couldn''t see. She started breathing erratically, fumbling around in the darkness as she searched for a clue, however small, to understand where she was.


    After a while, she found it. Under her feet. There was something there, something wet and cold. Water.


    A river?


    However, the water was still and stagnant. It had to be some sort of underground lake, maybe the same thing that saved her from the fall. She tried to follow the watercourse, not an easy thing to do when you can''t see your hand in front of your face. But gradually the water level started to rise until it reached her knees, then up to her waist. She was almost unable to go further without swimming when she began to see a light, dim and far. It came from above, where the rock ceiling gave way to a solid wall.


    Lithoniel''s lips quivered. She was close to the bottom of the chasm, the moon so far she could barely see it. She had been lucky, all thing considered. The lake must have been just a tiny puddle from the top of the chasm, the chances of falling here instead of crashing on the rocks below extremely small. None of this changed her situation. Even if she was in her best condition, and with a grappling hook, a scaling like this would have been extremely difficult. Now? Impossible.


    She had to find another way out. However, the only one she could see wasn''t up but down, deeper in that pitch back darkness she came from. Lithoniel retraced her steps, her teeth rattling as she came out of the water. She tried to pick up her pace, but she had to slow down when she bumped into something. A wall.


    She traced it with her fingers, using it to orient herself in her descent. Lithoniel didn''t know how long she kept going down, wobbling in the darkness. From time to time she stopped, without even breathing as she tried to listen. But there was nothing to hear, just silence. That absolute absence of sound was driving her crazy, eroding her sanity little by little. She was about to let go when she saw something. It was a warm light - similar to fire but without its heat - springing from the strange stalagmites rising from the floor of the cave.


    Ember crystals.


    They had the same consistency of rock formations but emitted an iridescent red light. There could be just one explanation if they were there.


    There has to be muddyfire nearby.


    As Lithoniel kept climbing down, the narrow tunnel widened while the temperature kept rising, the freezing cold giving way to a pleasant warmth. The slope became softer, the rough rocks under her feet replaced by smooth stones, every one of the same size and polished by hand.


    Stone tiles? What are they doing here, so deep into the chasm?


    But when the tunnel finally came to an end, Lithoniel was left without words from what lay on the other side. It was a city, like a small island rising above the sea brushing against its borders. A sea of fire.


    The temperature went from the freezing cold of the icy lake to the scorching heat of the magma boiling around her. Its fumes started to make her eyes water as she went deeper inside, lurching on the cobbled road to see what no one saw for a thousand years: a piece of the ancient elven capital, a city of which no one remembered the name or history.


    Lithoniel marveled at the sight of the massive, and yet slender buildings surrounding her. They were different from what she imagined; tall but slander not crude and stocky like the ones the humans used to build. They seemed to grow in height like they wanted to reach the sky as the mountains and trees they were made of. A pity so little of them remained.


    Most of them were just ruins, piles of rotten wood and crumbling stone. Most of them, but not all them. There was one in particular which stood above all the others, left alone in the square at the center of the city. Lithoniel headed there.


    She was almost halfway when she saw something on the cobbled road that left her even more shocked than everything she had seen so far. Footprints. Lithoniel closed her eyes, reopened them and then shook her head. They were still there. The fact there might be footprints here, at the bottom of the chasm, was ridiculous enough, but not nearly as much as who made them.


    Liara. But that''s not possible. Lithoniel thought, trying to convince herself she was wrong, that maybe she was hallucinating when in reality she was already dead, crushed in the fall. But she was neither dead or wrong. She''d learned to recognize those footprints very well. They came from her opposite direction, maybe from another tunnel or passage of some kind.


    They were fresh, crystal clear on the thick layer of dust covering the road. Clear and close. Liara was heading in her same direction, toward that building in the middle. Lithoniel took a breath before venturing further inside the city, the lights from the embers waning as she did, obscured by lost ruins which retained just a hint of their past glory. The darkness looked more appropriate for something that hadn''t seen the light of day for eons. Appropriate, but not for that less eerie.


    Because there was another sound aside from the sizzling lava, the creaking buildings and the noises of her own steps; a cold breeze creating strange noises as it went through the wood and stone the city was made of. It wafted against her skin and made her shiver, and it was only in small part for the cold. The temperature kept dropping as she went further, the darkness thickening until the only thing she could see was that tall building, growing closer and closer to her.


    She had the distinct feeling she wasn''t welcome here, that someone or something was watching her. That feeling became even stronger when she arrived and took a closer look at the building. Unlike the others, the construction before her was intact, made of black ebonwood, and not of planks or logs, but trees and branches, all intertwined together to form that grim building looming there, at the center of the city.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    It was ominous, and for some reason, Lithoniel knew something bad was waiting for her inside. She was close to the entrance when she heard something. A whisper, so soft and low she could barely hear it. But then she heard another, and another until they became close to a chorus of distorted voices, a scathing noise grating on her mind and ears. Suddenly the building in front of her changed, as branches became limbs, trees became bodies, and blood became the lime binding them together in one whirling tangle of death and horror.


    There were people of every age and gender, men and elves alike, engaged in a war with no sides, fought without swords or arrows, but nails and teeth. It was a chaotic struggle with no rules, just death. Lithoniel opened her mouth, but her scream of terror turned into a cry of pain, when something she had never seen, but just dreamed, emerged from behind that dreadful tree. It was the sun, and not just the sick and pale sun engulfed by thick clouds like the one she was used t seeing, but a bright star, standing in the middle of a clear and blue sky.


    It swept away the darkness but burned her eyes, not used to that luminous and blinding light. It was a kind of pain she''d never felt, like hundreds of needles were piercing her eyes, their blazing tips melting them a bit at the time. And then, just like it came, the pain disappeared. Lithoniel found herself kneeling on the hard stone, her mouth wide open and her throat dry like she had been screaming all along and had no voice left.


    Did I imagine that? She wondered.


    But she could almost feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, see those red lines running on the logs of the black tree and fresh blood dripping from its twisted branches. She was almost certain it hadn''t been a nightmare. Almost, but not quite. But even if it was true, it didn''t change anything. She had to keep going.


    The heavy door creaked when she pushed it open and entered. The place was plunged into darkness, so Lithoniel had to walk blind, her heavy breath the only sound she could hear. Then she felt something, snapping under her feet. She stopped, changing direction, but without avail. Whatever it was, the floor was riddled with it.


    That''s when she felt heat sweeping all over her, followed by a crackling sound. All of the sudden the place was filled with light as several big braziers started catching fire without apparent reason. Lithoniel was shocked, but then she saw what laid beneath her feet, and that shock turned into dread. They were bones: dozens, maybe hundreds of bones spread all over the floor.


    The entire place was a graveyard. Lithoniel shuddered, unconsciously backing away, just to step over another bone as she did so. It was small, no bigger than her fist. It shattered like dry wood under her foot, its jaw turning into a tiny yellowish powder. The skull of a child.


    Lithoniel tried to rein in her emotions, but it was like trying to stop the flood with a wall of sand. She started backing away, going closer and closer to the exit when she saw what lay beyond those bones. There was an altar there, entirely made of ivory, the huge fangs of some extinct predator. However, it wasn''t the altar that attracted her attention, but who was lying close to it.


    Liara!


    She was on the ground, her coppery hair turned gray by a thick layer of soot. Aside from that, she seemed fine, like she was sleeping. But the only way to know for sure was to get closer, crossing that same sea of bones that terrified her. Lithoniel closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she mustered her courage. Then she made a step forward. The crossing was grueling almost as much as dreadful since it was hard avoiding the remains and even harder not destroying them when she failed to do so. They were too brittle, and stepping over them was literally like walking on eggshells. When she finally reached the other side, Lithoniel hurried to check her out. Liara was unconscious, her breathing weak but steady. She had no visible wounds except some bruises and small cuts on her arms.


    "Liara" Lithoniel whispered as if she was afraid to raise her voice.


    Liara''s eyelids moved, but she didn''t wake up.


    "Lia..." Lithoniel tried again but stopped when she saw something on that altar not far from her.


    A moonstone slab. It was small, barely wider than her palm and not much longer. But there was something there, written in a lost language completely different from the current tongue.


    Ancient Elven.


    Unwittingly Lithoniel stood up, her feet moving on her own accord as she approached the moonstone slab. It was like she was inside a dream; she wanted to touch it, trace the embossed words with her fingertips to unravel the secret hidden behind it.


    It was a desire stronger than her will, urging her to move even when her common sense was screaming her to run away. She had to know what those words meant. When she finally came back to her senses, it was already too late. It wasn''t much, just the tip of her finger, but she was touching it.


    All of a sudden those cryptic words became easy to understand.


    Three from the lands of light


    Two where the darkness lies


    Five will be called blight


    But none will hear their cries.


    In the sea of Ember where the fire ever burns


    The scourges of Doom bide its return.


    They wait for a sign


    A spin of the wheel


    The way to make the stars align


    Beware the dangers of the human soul


    Or the rage will churn


    For betrayal at every turn.


    Those words meant nothing to her, but she could still feel it, in her nose; a strong smell of dried blood and decay like she was inside an old battlefield surrounded by countless bodies. It was an inexplicable feeling of death. But she had other problems at the moment.


    At soon as Lithoniel pulled her hand back, the moonstone started to crack and then to crumble, until there was nothing left of it. Lithoniel backed away, but she had nowhere to go. The fires on the braziers started flaring up from behind her, the smoke springing from them coalescing in a single point.


    It started twirling on itself, slowly at first, but then faster and faster until it became a small whirlwind, a miniature tornado which blew away everything in its path. Lithoniel ducked, trying to protect herself from the bones fragments darting around her when she heard a sound: something like a hiss coming closer and closer to her.


    She raised her head just in time to see the smoke moving across the temple like a coiling snake, heading directly toward her. She attempted to avoid it, but it was too late. It hit her, but she felt no pain. Not at the beginning at least.


    Instead, She started seeing strange things, images of forgotten places: a lost world of green lands, blue rivers, and clear skies. Then she heard them: voices.


    They were just a few at the start, but they soon became hundreds and then thousands, all talking at the same time. Lithoniel tried covering her ears, but there was no way to escape from them. The voices became louder and louder until they turned into screams, and the only thing she could hear was a cacophony of jarring sounds.


    Faces and voices kept coming like waves, overlapping each other until she started to lose her sense of self, completely engulfed by memories and images she couldn''t even begin to understand. When she started to forget who she was, when her past became just fragment and her name a word without meaning, a single sound came out from her lips.


    "Enough!"


    Her voice sounded low and weak, but the smoke seemed to waver and then retreat like she physically pushed it away, a long scream filling the temple as it flew outside.


    Is it over? She wondered.


    That''s when a ghastly, bestial shriek resounded inside the temple. Lithoniel turned to look at the entrance. There was something there, and it wasn''t human, animal or elf.


    It was a monster.

 Chapter 7 - Into the deep 3

    Lithoniel


    Lithoniel didn''t dare to breathe or move when she looked at the creature roaming around the temple''s entrance. It looked humanoid, but barely; its face close to an animal''s muzzle, its hands as paws while its jagged nails were almost like claws. And yet it wasn''t animal, though it moved liked one, on all four as it smelled those stone tiles where Lithoniel had walked.


    Its size wasn''t big, maybe even less than her, but it was deformed: its fleshy hunchback creating an imbalance with the rest of its scrawny body. Its skin was hairless and coarse like leather, filled with pale green lumps and foul pustules scattered everywhere across that sick yellow body.


    But what stood out the most were its eyes, or better, the absence of them. There were just scars in the place where its eyes should have been. On the other hand, both its nose and ears were oversized, way too big for the rest of its body.


    It lurks in the dark. It doesn''t need to see down here.


    Lithoniel thought as she looked around the temple, assessing her options. The creature wasn''t going deeper inside, but it kept walking---or trotting---back and forth, obstructing her only way out. Maybe she could slip past it, but she had two big problems before she could even start thinking about that.


    First, she had to cross that sea of bones, and if those huge ears were of any indication, she had to do it without making any sound; and second, she had to find a way to wake up the girl lying next to her. On the bright side, the pain on her arm had subsided for some reason, though she still couldn''t feel it and for sure she couldn''t use it.


    "Liara" She whispered to her while she shook her shoulder.


    Liara''s eyelids flickered and opened, the drowsiness disappearing from her face as she looked at Lithoniel. But then her eyes widened, and the scratching sound of a scream came out from her throat.


    She was watching Lithoniel as she''d never seen her before. Lithoniel covered her mouth with her hand, but Liara bit it like she was a rabid dog.


    "Quiet" Lithoniel hissed to her. She didn''t know what was going on, but they were both dead if she kept screaming that way.


    However, Liara kept struggling, looking more like a scared little beast than an elf. That''s when a second shriek, shorter but higher than the first one, resounded in the temple. Liara froze, while both of them looked at the same direction. The creature was sniffing the air there, its webbed foot stepping over a big bone, a femur, before crushing it.


    At that cracking sound, it stopped, backing away, but it stayed there, waiting for them. After a minute or two, it turned its head sideways, then toward the entrance, its forked tongue making a series of clacks, close to strange popping sounds.


    What is it doing?


    These sounds could seem inconsequential, the nonsensical noises of a monster, but they repeated themselves, starting and stopping at regular intervals like they were following a specific pattern. A rhythm.


    Don''t tell me...She started but shook her head, what she was thinking was absurd. It''s like...it is communicating with someone.


    She continued to listen, but after some seconds the creature stopped and resumed sniffing the ground like a big horrid dog.


    Maybe, I am overthinking.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    "Liara." She whispered. "We have to leave."


    But the small elf just squinted her eyes, staring back at her. It looked like she didn''t understand a word of what Lithoniel had just said. Lithoniel frowned, but she had no time to think about what happened to her. She put her index finger on her mouth, and the pointed toward the temple''s entrance.


    Liara seemed to understand this time and nodded, very slowly. They started crossing that path of bones walking on their tiptoes, Lithoniel''s good hand on the ebonwood handle of her hunting knife, the only weapon she had. They were almost halfway, the exit coming closer and closer to them when the fires on the braziers started to wane.


    Not now. Just a bit more. Lithoniel prayed, but the fires kept going out one after the other until just a flicker of a flame on a single brazier was left. She and Liara stopped at the same time. Even with the light, it had been hard walking on that bed of bones without making any noise. Now? Close to impossible.


    They looked at each other and then nodded. They had no choice but keep going. They''d just made some more steps when the last fire went out, and noise close to a branch snapping boomed inside the temple like a handclap. It was Liara stepping over a bone.


    The creature head whipped in her direction. It dashed toward Liara in a matter of seconds, jumping like a frog. Liara ducked, and at the same time, Lithoniel drew and threw her knife in a single motion. It hit the creature when it was still in midair, the metal tip piercing its oversized earhole before going through its skull and the soft tissue of its brain.


    The monster ruined on a pile of bones, one last shriek leaving its mouth as it went into convulsions. When the creature stopped moving Lithoniel sighed with relief, until she heard another shriek, followed by several others and then steps, converging quickly toward them.


    "Run!" She yelled to Liara. The small elf dashed outside, Lithoniel following right after her. She didn''t know if Liara was doing it on purpose or not, but she was retracing her own steps, heading in a different direction from where Lithoniel came.


    The two of them were almost at the edge of the city when they started to come out. Dozen, then hundreds of those creatures crawling out the darkness, leaving their holes in the rock or the old ruins where they used to live. The last stretch became a mad rush, the creatures'' bestial howls following them everywhere they went.


    Lithoniel ducked just in time when one of them came out from a ruin and tried to chop her neck. They were so close Lithoniel could feel them breathing on her neck, their rancid smell like a punch in her stomach.


    However as they started to get away from the temple, the strange cold and the darkness enveloping the city were replaced by the light and heat of fire. Liara kept running like she knew exactly where she was going, ran until they reached something like a gangway; a tiny bridge of stone, so small inside that sea of fire, Lithoniel would have never seen it if she wasn''t following her.


    If possible, the creatures behind them became even wilder, made mad by the closeness of their preys, or worse, the possibility they might slip away from their grasps. They crowded the bridge, shoving and elbowing each other, many of them falling and melting in the lava below because of the fight with their own kind.


    Most of them, but not all of them.


    One reached her and grabbed her leg, its twisted fangs opening holes in her leg as it took a bite at her. Lithoniel screamed before kicking it across the face, pushing it back. Then she stood up and started running again, but by then they were already on her.


    Liara was nowhere to be seen. She was alone, the creatures warped paws almost touching her when she heard something coming from below her. The bridge. It was sinking.


    The magma was like quicksand, swallowing the rock little by little, starting from the point where the creatures were more numerous. Lithoniel hobbled on the last piece of the bridge, the creature''s shrieks filling the air as the lava ate stone and flesh.


    At some point, the bridge made a turn, then a twist and another turn at the end, following the tunnel the lava dug in the rock like a coil of stone. But that stone was getting smaller, the heat almost too much to bear. However, Lithoniel could see the end of it, the point where the bridge rejoined with the rock face.


    I can do it. She repeated herself while she dashed for the last time. Then she leaped, but with her leg in that condition, her jump was too short. It was just enough to cling on the rock, but she couldn''t hold for long. Her hand started slipping, her nails scraping on the rock until she had nothing else to hold. And then someone grabbed her hand.


    Liara.


    She didn''t leave.


    Liara lifted her, little by little until Lithoniel was on solid ground and both of them were panting.


    "Thank you." She said to her when she was able to talk again.


    Liara didn''t answer, but she didn''t have to. The smile on her small face was better than any word and probably the best thing Lithoniel had seen in a very long time.

 Chapter 8 - Under her skin

    Lithoniel


    Lithoniel moved in the dark, once again walking blindly in those paths of stone. It seemed like the continuation of that quiet nightmare that started at the moment she chose to get down here. But this time Lithoniel wasn''t alone, she had someone else with her. Liara''s small and sweaty hand was something real and tangible, probably the only thing that kept her grounded as they went forward.


    Because their journey underground hadn''t ended when they escaped those creatures, unfortunately. Just as they started to travel back to the surface, the only way out - the tunnel from which Liara came - caved in, leaving both of them lost in the darkness, searching for an alternative path to leave that graveyard of stone. Strangely, they had found one, or better, Liara did. Unfortunately, it was narrower and more tortuous than the first one.


    As she wandered under the endless tunnels running beneath the Great Chasm, those dark paths stretching for most of the Hollows, an unsettling feeling started to take over her. It was the awareness, a growing conviction, they weren''t the result of that Cataclysm which irremediably changed the entire northern continent more than one thousand years ago, but dug in time by someone. And there was just one thing which lived down here.


    Lithoniel shook her head. She didn''t want to think about those things. She watched Liara walking at her side, thinking about making conversation to fill the stifling silence. But then she remembered the small elf couldn''t understand her, let alone talk with her. She seemed to have regressed, turning into a child, or maybe an animal, acting completely on instinct.


    Another thing Garluin will have to answer for. Lithoniel was sure he''d planned this, probably tricking Liara and convincing her to come down here someway but at the same time, she couldn''t understand how the small elf could know those dark tunnels so well. That wasn''t all. The more she walked, the more she was sure there was something wrong with her leg and arm.


    Not only they weren''t getting worse, but they were healing. Even the pain was gone, though it had been replaced with a weird itching at the pit of her stomach. She had no way of knowing what was there, not until they left those dark tunnels at least. She didn''t have to wait for long.


    The tunnel kept going up, the slope getting so steep they had to start climbing to move forward. However, they saw a light at the end, a red glare coming from above. From the outside. Lithoniel and Liara didn''t need words or signs this time. They moved as one, panting while they climbed up, their frenzied movements mirroring their wishes, the urge of leaving that never-ending darkness. When they finally emerged from it, Lithoniel took a deep breath, the fresh air Then she looked around her. She heard a gurgling sound and then saw the boiling and stormy waters of the river of Coals.


    They were close to its east bank. But what left her without words were those fissures in the ground and the lava flowing like liquid fire deep beneath them. She knew exactly where they were, and it wasn''t south of the Hollows, but north. They crossed the entire Chasm, and they were now just some miles away from those barren hills marking the beginning of the Great Penumbra.


    Lithoniel was about to start walking again, heading north toward her tribe when she saw what Liara was doing. The small elf was crouching down, sniffing the dry soil. She looked confused like she couldn''t recognize the smell. Then she got up and stood there, watching the river as she had never seen water before.


    It''s almost like her life started down there, in those dark tunnels. Once again Lithoniel wondered what happened to her, but concluded it wasn''t the time for that. But there is nothing wrong in leaving her alone for a few minutes.


    Besides, Lithoniel had something else to check it out. Her wounds. Problem was, there were none. She dropped her trousers just to discover there was only a scar, jagged and white, where that creature had bit her. Same thing when she looked her arm, finding just a black bruise and beneath that, solid bone.


    It''s not possible. But incredulity left space to horror when she lifted her shirt. There was something there, at the pit of her stomach. Something she''d already seen before.


    It was a twisted branch or maybe a vine, like dark ink engraved on her pale skin. It looked very close to what she had seen down there, on that black tree near the temple. The breath caught in her throat when she touched it. Maybe it was just an impression, but she felt it, moving under her finger.


    W-what...is this thing? It was like something lurked inside her, a foreign body crawling under her own skin. She was about to panic when that strange movement stopped, but that thing was still there. Lithoniel lowered her shirt and took a deep breath.


    I can''t think about this. Not now. She thought as she looked at the sky. It was late in the afternoon and from the position of the sun they had just a few hours of light left. They had spent almost a day wandering inside those dark tunnels.


    They headed north, reaching the first hill when it was close to dusk. The rivers of fire running below their feet started to thin out until they disappeared for good as they went into the Great Penumbra. It was one of the few stable areas within the Embersea and probably the coldest, except maybe the frozen peaks of the Icy crinal, further north on the far edge of the continent.


    It was already dark when Liara and Lithoniel saw something. It was a fire, atop one hill not far from them. As far as she knew there were no animals here, and no humans since the Great Penumbra was far from that bridge of stone they built over the Brimstone.


    Elves. Our tribe maybe? However, that didn''t mean they didn''t have to be cautious. Their tribe wasn''t the only one living in this area, and in the Embersea, where food and water were scarce, fights between different tribes were rare, but not impossible.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Therefore, Lithoniel and Liara didn''t take the straight path, but went around the hill, approaching from the opposite side where the slope was steeper but the chances of getting caught much smaller. As they sneaked on the stony path, Lithoniel heard something coming from above them.


    Voices. She raised her hand, signaling Liara to stop as she tried to listen to them.


    "...we should have waited for her. Hell, we should have never stopped searching."


    She recognized that voice at once. It was Kolvar.


    "It wouldn''t have done any good." The second voice was deeper, cavernous.


    Rolim!


    "At least we should''ve done something!" Kolvar again.


    "We will." Rolim replied. "When the tribe is safe."


    Inadvertently, Lithoniel smiled when she heard the sound of his voice. She was about to come out from her hiding place when she heard something else, or better someone she''d really hoped to avoid.


    Garluin.


    "Do something? And please tell me Kolvar, what would you have done differently?"


    "You!" Kolvar hissed. "I don''t want to hear a word from you! You''re the reason she disappeared in the first place!"


    "Oh, but I didn''t force her to leave, did I?"


    Bastard! Lithoniel gritted her teeth. The mocking undertone of his voice was driving her crazy and he wasn''t even talking to her.


    "Stop joking around Garluin! She wouldn''t have taken that absurd oath if it wasn''t for you!"


    "I just asked, and she accepted. After that, it was only her duty to uphold the vow." Garluin said. "Besides, it wasn''t me who forced her to slip out, alone in the night. But it''s no wonder, really. She probably carried enough burdens as it was, she didn''t need another one."


    "What are you talking about?" Kolvar asked.


    "Shut up, Garluin" Rolim hissed.


    "Oh no, I think your brother should listen to this, Rolim."


    "Listen to what, Garluin?" Kolvar asked. "What burden are you talking about?"


    "But of course the heaviest burden of all of them. You, Kolvar."


    Lithoniel heard someone taking a sharp intake of breath.


    "Don''t listen to him, Kolvar." Rolim said.


    "Why do you think Lithoniel disappeared?" Garluin continued. "She knew you wanted to tag along, so she decided to go on her own." A laugh, short but derisive.


    Lithoniel clenched her fists. She could almost picture Garluin in her mind, imagine the smug smile on his face.


    "Well, I don''t blame her. After all, what can you do other than following her around? You have no brawl or brain. You''re useless." Garluin mocked.


    "Shut your mouth, Garluin, or I will." It was Rolim, his voice so threatening that even Lithoniel felt a shiver running down her spine.


    She would be scared if she were in his place. But Garluin wasn''t, apparently.


    "It''s not me who killed her, Kolvar. It''s you."


    Enough! Lithoniel couldn''t hear any more of this. She came out of her hiding place, climbing the few meters separating her from the top of the hill when she heard someone roaring.


    It was Kolvar and he wasn''t simply roaring but charging, his head down as he dashed toward Garluin, likely to tackle him.


    A pity Lithoniel was in the way. He slowed down when he saw something coming out of nowhere, but he didn''t have time to stop completely. He bumped into her and both of them fell, Kolvar atop her.


    "Lithoniel?!" Kolvar looked and sounded dismayed like he had just seen a ghost.


    "Kolvar..." Lithoniel tried to say, but his name came out like a wheeze.


    "What?" Kolvar asked, but Lithoniel was having trouble breathing.


    "She can''t answer. Let her breathe." Rolim said, practical as usual while he lifted his brother.


    But he was shocked, though not as much as his brother and even less than the other man around. Garluin was aghast, his green eyes impossibly wide.


    It seems I succeeded where all the others failed: leaving Garluin with nothing to say.


    "Are you fine?" Kolvar asked after he helped her up. "Why did you leave without saying a word? What happened to you? Do you..."


    "She is safe." Rolim said, interrupting that string of questions. "And tired."


    "But..." Kolvar started to say, but Rolim interrupted him again.


    "We''ll talk about the rest later. I don''t want to wake up the others." He said, glancing at the fires scattered on the hillside below them.


    Kolvar opened his mouth but closed it when Rolim glared at him. And that''s when Liara came out from her hiding place. She looked warily at the people around, sniffing the air like a small dog for a second or two before hiding behind Lithoniel.


    "You found her." Kolvar said, astonished.


    Lithoniel started to nod when someone she forgot, or at least she tried to, cleared his throat. Garluin seemed to have recovered from his astonishment, but he still looked uncomfortable, staring at them as if he didn''t know to react to the new situation.


    I ruined his plans. Best if he gets used to it. She enjoyed seeing him that way, though she had no illusions. She knew this situation couldn''t last. She was right.


    "Lithoniel, you''re alive. And Liara too." He looked at her, showing one of his smiles. "I''m glad you are well, little one."


    He raised his hand like to pat her head, but Liara avoided it, growling at him like she wanted to bite his hand off.


    "You''re happy to see her, but she doesn''t seem to feel the same way, Garluin." Lithoniel said.


    Garluin''s smile faltered, "She is shocked. I don''t blame her, not after what she went through,"


    Lithoniel snorted, "How generous of you."


    Kolvar smirked, and Garluin glared at him. He didn''t seem to like when others mocked him.


    "Generous, Lithoniel?" Kolvar asked her but kept looking at Garluin. "I didn''t think Garluin knew the meaning of that word."


    When Garluin opened his mouth, no doubt to answer in kind, Rolim intervened.


    "Enough." Rolim said quietly. "Both of you, leave."


    Useless to say, neither of them liked that order. But they did as he said anyway. When they were gone, Rolim looked at her for an instant or two before going toward her.


    Liara backed away as he came forward, but Lithoniel didn''t blame her. At that moment, Rolim looked exactly like a predator getting ready to pounce on his prey. However, it wasn''t Liara his target, but her.


    He stared at her with such intensity Lithoniel was forced to avert her gaze. A pity Rolim had other ideas in her mind. He lifted her chin with his hand until she had to look at him, his face so close to her, their noses were almost touching.


    "It was very noble of you." He said, his voice growing harsher as he spoke. "And very stupid."


    "I..." She stammered as she searched for something to say but without avail. And yet she had her own reasons for what she did, though now that Rolim was so close to her they completely disappeared from her mind.


    Rolim waited a bit like he wanted to give her a chance to justify herself. But when she didn''t, his mouth came dangerously close to her own before going around her cheek and then up, brushing on her earlobe.


    "Don''t do it again." He whispered, very slowly, pronouncing every word clearly. When he was certain she heard him, Rolim turned around and walked away, leaving her alone and completely speechless.


    Lithoniel stared at his retreating back until he disappeared from her sight. Only then she remembered to breathe. She shook her head and sighed, trying to get a hold of herself.


    "Let''s find a place to sleep." She said to Liara.


    Obviously, the small elf didn''t answer her. Instead, Liara stared at her, her small brown eyes confused like she didn''t understand what just happened.


    Don''t worry. You aren''t the only one.


    For better or worse she was back, though something even worse than the Zaruk was waiting for her. Her own home.

 Chapter 9 - Home sweet home

    Lithoniel''s return was like a soothing balm on an open wound for the survivors. The proceeded way faster than before, even more quickly than when the Nightstalker was in command. Of course the fact she''d faced another impossible challenge and came back alive had a big part in raising their morale.


    Unfortunately for Lithoniel, her actions did nothing but increase her reputation, widening the gap between her and the others and turning their faith into something close to fanaticism. But the survivors'' attitude it wasn''t the only thing that changed.


    It was Garluin who surprised her most. During all the travel he''d kept staring at her, his gaze clinical like he was trying to dissect her, maybe to discover the reason why his plan had failed. He worried her, but not as much as Liara. The small elf was quickwitted and smart but kept behaving in the same way as before like a newborn of a small animal. Whatever happened to her down there, she wasn''t getting any better. They were close to their destination, less than two leagues away from their home when Kolvar approached her.


    "How is your arm?" He asked.


    "A bit stiff but otherwise fine" She replied.


    "You don''t have to act with me. You know that, right?" His tone was hushed and soft. "All the people here know how tough and brave you are."


    Lithoniel averted her gaze. She couldn''t bear to look at his eyes, filled with worry for her well being mixed with longing.


    "I know" She whispered back.


    She felt dirty. She was lying to him. To all of them. Her arm wasn''t just getting better, but completely healed, the wound on her leg no more than a scar. But the guilt she was feeling was a small price to pay compared to the alternatives. She didn''t want to add any more arrows to the quiver of her detractors. They had more than enough as it was.


    She was too tall for an elf, her lineaments too soft and her bust too big. Her hair was close to the silver of the fabled high elves of old, only not close enough. Even her ears, elongated but rounder than the usual elf, were a matter of discussion among her peers. And then there were her grey-purple eyes. They were called unusual by her few friends, unnatural by the majority of the tribe and eerie by her foes. A constant reminder of her position inside the tribe. No matter how many years passed or what Kolvar and Rolim said to convince her: she was a stranger, barely a step above an intruder.


    "Cover your face" Kolvar reminded, pointing somewhere.


    Lithoniel followed his finger and looked at the skies. Ashes and dust kept falling there at regular intervals, painting gray the black soil. It was another unfortunate consequence of living in a land filled with active volcanoes. Harmless most of time, the dust storms were a natural occurrence in the Embersea just like the gray smoke rising from the mountains and the somber clouds originated by it. When Lithoniel brushed her feet against the soil something like a black powder rose, indiscernible from ashes except for the difference of color.


    They''d had almost reached their destination when she saw something. Footprints. It wasn''t so strange since they were so close to the village. What was strange, however, was from where they came.


    South-west from the village. Lithoniel bit her lips. There were just the mountains of the West Ridge in that direction, and since their tribesmen never went that way, there could be just one conclusion: they had to belong to someone from outside the tribe, other elves judging from the shape and size of the footprints.


    "Rolim." She said, calling him from the back of their group.


    She wanted another opinion, and Rolim was a better tracker than her, maybe the best in the entire tribe. Rolim frowned when he saw her expression and scowled when he crouched down to examine the footprints.


    "A rival tribe?" She asked after a while, hoping he would deny it.


    Unfortunately, he didn''t. He nodded instead, his face looking grimmer and grimmer by the minute.


    "How many?" She asked since it was what she wanted to know from the start.


    The elves used to travel in a single line, walking over the steps of the ones before them to hide their numbers.


    "Dozens." Rolim said, "Maybe thirty or forty hunters."Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    "They headed to the village?" Lithoniel asked, but Rolim shook his head.


    "I can''t say for now."


    Lithoniel nodded. In any case, they had to reach the village first.


    "Better get moving." She said.


    It was already past sunset when they reached their destination. The plateau where their tribe lived was like a natural fortress rising over the desolation of the Great Penumbra. There was only one path to the camp, guarded day and night by the tribe''s hunters.


    No alarm rose when they entered inside the encampment. Lithoniel wasn''t surprised. Even during the night, the lookouts could see any intruders from miles ahead. What surprised her was to find half the tribe, if not all of it, waiting for them at the small square at the center of the plateau.


    She saw Elwin the Woodkeeper and recognized Naevys the Loremaster. The old woman scrutinized her, searching for an answer on her face. Lithoniel couldn''t bear to look at her. She stiffened, lowering her gaze, an action by itself worth more than one thousands words. The other survivors more or less did the same.


    Some sobs and whispers rose inside the crowd, but they waited for the old woman to talk. Elwin face was sterner than usual, but Naevys reaction was way worse. She seemed frozen solid as if she couldn''t believe what she saw reflected in the survivors'' faces.


    "What happened?" Elwin asked at the end.


    The old elf furrowed his brow seeing that all the survivors were looking at Lithoniel, waiting for her to speak. It was the respect usually bestowed only to the Nightstalker, a chain of command no different from a wolves pack. Lithoniel opened her mouth, before closing it.


    What was she supposed to say? The truth? That the Nightstalker didn''t listen to her "feeling" and brought the hunters to meet their death? Or maybe she should lie, depicting him like a hero facing the beast till the end?


    But she never had the time to answer. An old lady emerged from the crowd, elbowing her way through before stopping in front of her. When the slap came, Lithoniel recoiled, the burning pain on her cheek second only to her guilt.


    "Give him back to me!" She shouted, her tear stricken face twisted by grief and anger.


    "Tinesia!"Elwin shouted, but the woman lifted her hand a second time to slap her again.


    Lithoniel could have avoided it, but she just stood there instead, waiting for a punishment she thought she deserved. However, the blow never came. Rolim sneaked on Tinesia''s back, slipped his hands underneath her armpits and locked them behind her head.


    "Let go of me!" Tinesia hissed, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but Rolim''s arms didn''t budge. "It is your fault!" She spat to Lithoniel.


    "Stop blabbering nonsense woman..."Kolvar began.


    "Shut up! You are her pet!" Tinesia lashed at him. "You wanted his position, right? You, abomination!" She hissed to Lithoniel.


    Lithoniel felt a chill when she heard that word. She sneaked a glance at the crowd, realizing that Tinesia''s ranting was taking hold of them. Their eyes were watching her, judging her. Someone was nodding, others whispering and even Elwin seemed doubtful.


    Kovlar talked again, and Tinesia answered. She could see their fists tightening and their nostrils flaring, she could read their lips but she couldn''t hear them, not anymore. The sound of their voices was replaced by an indistinct buzzing, vague and far. It was only when Garluin stepped forward that her ears started working again as if she could feel the impending doom reflected in the young elf''s face.


    "I am sorry for your loss." He said to Tinesia. "Your husband was more than a master for me. He was like a father."


    Tinesia''s expression softened a little, her rage soothed by his words.


    "The Nighstalker loss is a heavy blow for us all" Garluin said solemnly, addressing the crowd." He died like he lived, as a hero. None of us would be here if it wasn''t for his sacrifice."


    "But it''s not Lithoniel''s fault." Garluin said, polarizing the crowd''s attention. "She risked her own life to save us."


    Mutters of surprise and incredulity rose from the tribesmen. Someone seemed doubtful, but the majority of them lowered their heads, sneaking guilty glances at Lithoniel. It wasn''t a secret that the relationship between Garluin and Lithoniel had always been terrible, and the fact that her worst foe was praising her made the story all the more credible.


    After Garluin''s words, Kovlar''s mouth was wide open, but the most surprised was Lithoniel herself. She bit her lips seeing Garluin''s expression. There was a strange glint in his eyes, and Lithoniel couldn''t help but ask herself what he was planning now. This was the perfect opportunity to strike her down for good, but he chose to help her instead. When Tinesia started to sob, Rolim released her, probably realizing she wasn''t a danger anymore. She sat on the ground, crying softly, and she wasn''t the only one.


    "Quiet." Naevys said.


    Her voice carried only a shadow of its former strength, but it was enough to draw a veil of silence in the small square.


    Naevys looked ten years older than the last time Lithoniel had seen her, and she wasn''t young to begin with. She seemed frail, withered, even older than Elwin, and the Woodkeeper wasn''t called the "Ancient" without reason.


    "Tomorrow we will hold a ceremony to honor the fallen. Disperse now." She ordered, with the tone and dignity of someone used to rule.


    Little by little the tribesmen scattered, returning to their tents. No one grumbled or complained, not even Tinesia. Every one of them trusted Naevys'' judgment, believed the Loremaster that led them for so many winters. Lithoniel was about to do the same, but Naevys stopped her.


    "Not you Lithoniel. I want to speak with you." The old woman glanced at the few people who were still there before adding. "In private."


    Without further ado, she headed toward the biggest tent at the center of the encampment, followed by Elwin right after. Lithoniel sighed. Talking with Naevys was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment but as usual in her life, what she wanted and what she was forced to do by the circumstance were two completely different things.

 Chapter 10 - Dark tidings

    Lithoniel


    Naevys''s tent was the biggest among the entire tribe, a pavilion serving as the command center, a symbol of prestige for the Loremaster, their leader and the same time the keeper of the elves'' traditions, the few remains of a civilization that was disappearing from these lands. Therefore, it wasn''t surprising most of the tent was filled with books, the majority of which written in the current elven tongue - the language they adopted from the humans - while just a few of them were in the ancient elven, something the elves had tried to decipher for centuries without success.


    But books were just a small part of Naevys'' disparate collection; a jumble of weird and marvelous objects going from the alembics once used for the creation of potions to exotic weapons of shiny metal, their blades tougher than steel but curved, not straight. However, the most notable things were probably those parchments; ancient scrolls of power dating back to the age of magic when the elves were still capable of wielding the power of elements.


    Lithoniel kept staring at them like she was trying to unravel their secrets. Of course, it was just a ploy, a way to divert her attention and not to think about what she had to do. Because if there was someone Lithoniel feared it was her teacher, Naevys. The old elf sat in front of her, the countless wrinkles on her aged face second only to the ones of the man beside her. It was Elwin "the ancient", Master of the woodcarvers, the craftsmen''s caste.


    But it was what he had in his hands which filled Lithoniel with terror. It was a black pipe, its chamber filled with a fine powder. They were ebonroots, dried and turned into dust to produce a mild hallucinogen. The ebonroots most distinctive feature was another: whoever smoked them couldn''t lie.


    "Teacher, is it really necessary?" Lithoniel asked, trying to hide the unease she was feeling.


    "Truth of your heart, truth from your mouth, Lithoniel" Naevys croaked, staring at her without blinking. "Fifty-two left the tribe, only twelve came back. We have to know what happened."


    She looked at her, but Naevys just stared back at her, in the old woman''s veiled eyes a hint of that unshakable determination Lithoniel had come to know so well.


    Lithoniel sighed before taking the pipe from Elwin''s hands and inhaled; the ebonwood''s taste, similar to wet grass after rain, filling her mouth when she exhaled. The effect was instantaneous; she started seeing double while a strange numbness spread across her body.


    "Tell me what happened, child." Neavys'' voice was muffled and low like it came from far away, and yet Lithoniel could do nothing but obey.


    She started speaking, her voice a little shaky at first, but it became more steady as she talked. She told them about the Nightstalker''s death and explained how she defeated the Zaruk. Then she started talking about the return journey, the words slipping out from her mouth like a river in flood. Naevys frowned when Lithoniel talked about Liara, her expression becoming grimmer and grimmer as she heard about the oath.


    "Stupid child." She said, shaking her head. "Why did you do something like that?"


    "I-I..." Lithoniel stammered. "Liara..." She started, but she trailed off. Even if she was under the effect of the drug, she was unable to answer.


    "Nevermind." Naevys said. "We''ll talk about this later. Continue."


    Lithoniel swallowed. She really didn''t want to talk about this.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "Speak" Naevys ordered, her voice growing harsher as Lithoniel stayed silent.


    Lithoniel bit her lips and shut her eyes, a single tear running on her cheek and then falling on the floor as she tried to resist Naevys''s command. But she couldn''t, she had to talk.


    She told them how she tracked Liara---and fell at the bottom of the Chasm in the process---and described what she saw down there and whom. Naevys was shocked at first, but that shock quickly turned into dismay when Lithoniel talked about that building, the temple standing at the center of the ruins.


    "The black tree." She said so quietly Lithoniel could barely hear her, "I wonder if..." She trailed off.


    "You know what it is?" Lithoniel asked, but Naevys shook her head, a strange expression appearing on her face. It seemed a lot like...pain? Lithoniel couldn''t tell.


    "Go on, child." Naevys urged.


    And she did. But maybe she shouldn''t have. As soon as she talked about what happened in the ruined temple, she saw something she had never seen on Naevys and Elwin''s faces. Fear. She told them how they escaped, but she didn''t talk about the moonstone, or worse, that weird mark marring her skin.


    When she finished, the Loremaster and the Master of Woodcarver looked at each other for a long minute like they were talking in some kind of secret language. Then they nodded at the same time. When they looked at her Lithoniel stiffened, bracing for a verdict it could change her life.


    "This story is so unlikely, I am sure no one would believe you." Naevys said, and Lithoniel winced. However, the old elf wasn''t done talking. "But I do."


    Lithoniel opened her mouth wide, and the expression on her face must have been quite funny to look at since Naevys laughed and even Elwin smiled a bit.


    "I know you, Lithoniel." Naevys said, her voice becoming softer and warmer as the tension inside the room started to disappear. "I have known you since you were a child and I know you are telling the truth." She said before looking at her with a critical eye. "Only you would be so noble, or stupid, to do something like that."


    "Thank you, teacher" Lithoniel said, her voice trembling with emotion while she looked down, trying to hide the tears coming out from her eyes.


    "It wasn''t a compliment." Naevys rebuked, but her eyes were laughing.


    "However, there are still a lot of unanswered questions." Elwin intervened, talking for the first time. "Especially about Liara."


    Naevys nodded curtly, "Indeed, we still don''t know why Liara went there, or how she could move so well in those dark tunnels underground." She looked at Lithoniel. "And from what you tell me, Liara can''t talk anymore. Is that right?"


    Lithoniel nodded. "Yes, teacher. I don''t know what happened to her down there, but whatever it is, it changed her."


    Elwin was somber, his faces like an old map or dry leather. "And that''s another problem, Liara."


    Naevys frowned but nodded, reluctantly like she didn''t want to admit what he was saying was true.


    "What you mean?" Lithoniel asked. "It''s true that Liara changed, but with time I believe..."


    "Maybe she will get better, maybe she won''t. That''s not the problem, Lithoniel." Naevys interrupted her. "Your vow is."


    Lithoniel looked puzzled, "I don''t understand."


    "The problem is the words you used, or better, the ones Garluin used, are open to interpretation."


    "Interpretation?" Lithoniel asked.


    "Yes. Do you remember what he said precisely?"


    Lithoniel opened her mouth and closed it, thinking about Garluin''s exact words.


    Lithoniel furrowed her brow, "He said I had to protect her...guarantee she''ll be safe." She looked at them. She still didn''t see the point.


    "Keeping her safe and protecting her from harm is different than bringing her back, Lithoniel."


    Lithoniel didn''t like where this was going.


    "Someone could say that since Liara is..."Elwin cleared his throat. "different now, you failed to keep her safe and doing so..."


    "...you failed to uphold the vow." Naevys finished.


    Lithoniel''s lips trembled when she finally understood what they meant.


    "But don''t lose hope." Naevys reassured her. "This matter is still undecided."


    "Unfortunately" Elwin stepped in before Lithoniel could even start hoping. "That vow is so old we have to follow the old way to solve this matter."


    "The old way? What does it mean?" Lithoniel asked Naevys, but the old woman grimaced without answering. The situation wasn''t looking good.


    "It means, Lithoniel," Elwin said, his deep voice filling the room as he talked. "We can''t decide on this matter on our own. Only the entire tribe reunited can."


    The same people who hate me.


    Lithoniel knew what Elwin was talking about, and what he was leaving out.


    A conclave.


    It was a trial and a shaming rack at the same time, reserved only for the worst kind of criminals, the traitors who colluded with the humans or whoever committed crimes so serious the Loremaster couldn''t judge them on her own. And now Lithoniel was one of them.

 Chapter 11 - Before the Conclave 1

    Lithoniel


    Lithoniel was standing on a green field, the Sun warm on her skin as she walked around, euphoric as she had never been. There was something weird in what she was seeing like a strange fog at the corner of her vision. She didn''t really pay attention to it. For the first time in her life, she could hear the chirping of birds, see quiet mountains in the distance and feel the smell of wet grass in the air, so different from that persistent stench of rotten eggs lingering in the Embersea.


    It was like she was living in a dream. Unfortunately, that dream soon became a nightmare.The earth started shaking, and huge fireballs came out from the mountains, burning grass and trees, turning the water of the rivers into steam. It was like she was reliving what happened a thousand years before, the day of Cataclysm. That was just the start.


    Something even worse than fire started to come out from those huge holes opening in the ground: the same monsters she had seen before, deep underground. They were like an eruption, a black flood swallowing and destroying everything in their path.


    Gradually, her paradise became a battlefield, a hell of fire and death as hundreds, then thousands of people started to die, engulfed by the flames or killed by those monsters. But it was when the bodies became too numerous to count, that she saw it: the black tree. It extended its roots on the corpses, draining them of blood like a huge leech.


    It was about to reach her, when Lithoniel woke up, so terrified she couldn''t even scream. The mark at the pit of her stomach was still pulsating when she opened her eyes and saw the familiar shape of her tent. The blanket covering her fell when she stood up, but she still lacked air.One month had passed since she came back to the tribe, and the temperature was much colder, but she felt like she was suffocating. She wanted to leave, get some fresh air when she saw the shadows of her jailers, standing just outside the tent. She took a deep breath, then another, her heart slowing down as she regained control of her emotions. She still wasn''t used to being a prisoner, a criminal waiting for trial.


    After she''d come back, she expected Naevys and the others to resolve the situation swiftly, maybe even the next day, but as days and weeks went by, the wait became something close to a torture, the uncertainty almost worse than the punishment she expected to receive.Rolim''s occasional visits were her sole relief, the only contact she had with the world outside. She''d hadn''t seen her teacher, Naevys, since the night they came back from the hunt, and even Kolvar, who used to pester her every day, never visited her. She was vaguely aware that the situation was odd, but the captivity was beginning to weigh on her mind.


    As days became nights and nights became days, it became harder and harder to stay in touch with reality. Of course, the fact she had no idea about what was going on outside didn''t help. Rolim was even more cryptic and taciturn than usual.Lithoniel was sure he had his reasons and was probably trying to protect or help her someway, but the thought did nothing to reduce her frustration. She was about to lie down, trying to not think about that dream, when the same man she was thinking aboutentered.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "Lithoniel" He opened his mouth, likely to continue, but hesitated. "Are you fine?" He asked at the end, his concern clear on his usually inexpressive face.


    "I am" She answered, though she could imagine how she looked: haggard and thin, the dark circles under her eyes highlighted by the pallor of her face. Rolim frowned, obviously unconvinced.


    "I know you are restless, but you have to eat, Lithoniel." He glanced at her arms. They were looking more and more like toothpicks.


    Lithoniel grimaced.


    "I''ll try." She forced herself to say,"What''s going on outside? Have they come to a decision?" She said, asking the same questions every single time.


    Unfortunately, Rolim''s answer didn''t change."Not yet."


    "Why?" She whispered, her shoulders sagging. "Why do they keep delaying?"


    She couldn''t take it anymore. She wanted this to end, in a way or another. Maybe Rolim realized something was different because this time he didn''t just shrug off the issued. He looked at her, opening and closing his mouth several times.


    "There is more at stake here than you think, Lithoniel."


    "What do you mean?"


    "I mean that Tinesia''s ridiculous accusation is not the only problem. The main issue is who the next Nighstalker will be. Either you''re the hero who killed the Zaruk or the villain who failed to uphold her vow and schemed against the Nightstalker to take his place."


    "And of coursethey think I''m the latter." She said, her tone filled with bitterness.


    "Don''t be so sure about that." Rolim mumbled.


    "What?"


    "Nothing" He shook his head, "Anyway, ifthey find you guilty they will exile you, but if not..." Rolimgave her a meaningful glance.


    I will be the Nighstalker. No, I won''t this about this.Lithoniel banished the thought from her head. Being able to leave this tent was more than enough for her. She didn''t want the Nighstalker''s lofty title, or worse, having to shoulder the responsibilities that title entailed. She had already learned her lesson when Liara escaped.


    "This still didn''t explain why they keep delaying. I wasn''t even allowed to attend the funeral." She lamented.


    "There has been none."


    "What?"


    "There has been no funeral, Lithoniel."


    Lithoniel gaped, "Why? The Loremaster said..."


    "The Loremaster''s hands are tied. It''sTinesia''s fault." He explained." She said that her husband can''t rest in peace unless the person responsible for his death is brought to justice."


    "The person responsible, eh?"Lithoniel sighed. She felt guilty for a lot of things, but the Nighstalker''s folly wasn''t one of them.


    Rolim clenched his fists, "She is using the vow as an excuse to shovel dirt on you."


    She winced, "Of course she is. I''m an easy target."


    "It''s not as bad as you think. Don''t underestimate our tribesmen." He warned her. "Many of them are starting to realize that Tinesia is just using you as the scapegoat. She doesn''t want to admit that her husband made a mistake. But don''t worry, the truth will..."


    "Truth has nothing to do with this and you know it." Lithoniel interrupted him, "I''m the tribe''s pariah. Even if she has no proof, who do you think the people will believe? Me?" She snorted, "I don''t think so."


    "Tinesiahas always been unstable." Rolimcountered, "As I said, It''s not as bad as you think. Elwin and the Loremaster are on your side. They know that you''re innocent."


    Lithoniel forced a smile, "I hope that will be enough."


    "It will be. Don''t worry, things are getting better." He sounded oddly confided.


    Lithoniel furrowed her brow and studied him."Rolim, what are you not telling me?"


    "Lithoniel, I..." He hesitated. "I''ll come back later. Rest well."


    "Wait..." She said but he was already gone.


    What''s going on?


    She was still wondering about thatwhen someone she hadn''t seen for a long time entered.It was Kolvar.

 Chapter 12 - Before the conclave 2

    Lithoniel


    "Kolvar, what are you..." Lithoniel started to say when Kolvar suddenly hugged her.


    She blanked out and then squirmed, trying to get free. However, he didn''t budge. Actually, he squeezed even harder, holding her as his life depended on it.


    "Kolvar, what are you doing? Let me..."


    "Let me stay like this...just for a moment" He said, and Lithoniel froze at the sound of his voice.


    It was broken, emotional like he was about to weep or maybe he already did. Lithoniel felt uncomfortable, but without knowing it, she started to pat his back gently like she was coaxing a child. When he finally backed away to look at her face, Lithoniel noticed that his cheeks were flushed, his eyes a little red. He looked very young, even more childish than usual.


    "I-I''m sorry...I..." He started stuttering when he realized what he had done. "I missed you" He managed to say at the end. Then he looked down, avoiding eye contact.


    Lithoniel sighed.


    "Kolvar," She said, but he still didn''t look at her. "Kolvar, look at me" She patiently repeated, though she really wanted to force him to look at her, maybe slap him a couple of times to knock some sense into him.


    It worked, eventually.


    "I''m happy to see you, but what are you doing here?" She said, unable to hide the concern in her voice. Knowing Kolvar''s personality unless someone didn''t forbid him to come, he would have visited her. And that someone could only be Naevys.


    Which mean, he sneaked in here, and doing so, violated the Loremaster''s order.


    "I wanted to know how you were doing."He said, squinting his eyes as he scanned her face. "You look thinner."


    Lithoniel glared at him, "That''s not a nice thing to say."


    "I''m sorry." He immediately apologized, "But I''m worried about you. I would have looked for you sooner, but they forbid me."


    "They?"


    Kolvar scowled, "It was Rolim and..." He hesitated, sneaking a glance at her.


    "And?" She urged. "Who else, Kolvar?"


    Kolvar bit his lips. "The Loremaster.."


    Bingo.


    "Kolvar..." Lithoniel squeezed her eyes shut, "You shouldn''t have done it. Do you know what could have happened if you got caught? Sneaking around in the middle of the night..."


    "I didn''t sneak." Kolvar said.


    Lithoniel furrowed her brow.


    "I really didn''t." He insisted. "Listen, do you remember Mor? Morlarn''s father?"


    She thought about it for a little and nodded. She remembered him. He was an old elf in his late fifties working as a guard inside the village like all the others retired hunters.


    "Well, he is one of your guards and he always liked my old family heirloom. Do you remember it? The dagger with a blade close to a crescent moon?"


    Lithoniel glared at him. "Kolvar, get to the point."


    The elf faked a cough, "Anyway, I knew he liked it. Besides, you saved her niece, so I..." He trailed off and scratched his head like he didn''t know how to say it. But the meaning was clear.


    "You bribed him?" Lithoniel asked, unable to hide her surprise.


    Kolvar looked a little shy but didn''t try to deny it. Lithoniel shook her head, looking at him in wonder. She really didn''t see this coming. It seemed completely out of character for him.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "I tried to bargain for your freedom but..."


    "Don''t worry about it." She said.


    Running away was easy. The guards were not her match and she knew the village like the back of her hand but she had no intentionof escaping.


    "Wait a second...you said I saved his niece? Who is she?"


    "Liara. It''s Liara, Lithoniel."


    She opened her mouth wide. "So, she had a living relative." Damn you, Garluin.


    Kolvar nodded, " She''s staying with him, but she''s still not talking. After they...well, you know, imprisoned you, she looked for you. A few guards barred her way. They tried to stop her but she just...threw them away." He gesticulated, "She looks small but she is crazy strong."


    That brought a smile on her face, "I''m glad to know that she is doing fine. But..." Her smile slipped, "what about the Conclave, Kolvar? Why do they keep delaying ?"


    Kolvar scratched his head, "I don''t know for sure, but..."


    "But?"


    "Ithink they are trying to help you."


    That threw her off. "Help me? What do you mean?"


    "They are spreading rumors about what you did after the Nighstalker died. You should haveheard the story, Lithoniel. It sounded like a heroic tale."


    She raised a brow, "They who?"


    "Rolim and the other survivors."


    "They are trying to increase my reputation, or better, get rid of my infamy." Lithoniellooked moved but at the same time a little a little baffled. "Do they really think this will work?"


    "But it''s working, Lithoniel. Now that the tribesmen know how you risked your life to save their children, their opinion is starting to change. Besides, even if Naevys didn''t explicitly support you, many still think she is on your side. Otherwise, why would she keep delaying? Her opinion is important for the tribe, you know that."


    "But why?" She couldn''t help but ask.


    Granted, Naevys was her teacher, but though the Loremaster never loathed her like the other elves, she''d always kept her distance from her.


    Kolvar just shrugged, "I don''t know. What I can tell you is that the tribe is divided. Tinesia wants to speed things up. She knows she might lose if this goes on. She wants the Nightstalker''s election to be held quickly, especially now..."He trailed off


    Lithoniel glared at him. "Especially now, what?


    He looked alarmed like he''d said something he shouldn''t have."I-I can''t talk about it."


    Lithoniel glared at him, "What aren''t you telling me, Kolvar?"


    Kolvar lowered his head. "The...the tribe is in danger."


    In danger? Lithoniel opened her mouth wide.


    "What kind of danger?"


    Kolvar looked troubled, scratching his nonexistent beard."People are missing, Lithoniel. Folmon, Thadar, Ilyana,and a dozen others - they are all missing. The first one disappeared a few days before we came back."


    The color drained from her face, "...are there any leads?"


    "Just one. We know outsiders are responsible. A small group, probably half a dozen outcasts."


    As Kolvar said it, Lithoniel remembered what she''d seen when they came back to the plateau.


    The footprints?


    "That''s all we know. The hunters are looking for clues but since the Nighstalker''s spot is empty, there is one to lead them." Kolvar said.


    Lithoniel finally realized why Rolim and Naevys decided to hide all of this from her.


    They thought I would do something stupid. She smiled bitterly. They were right. I can''t stay here when the tribe is in danger.


    She could imagine why Tinesia wantedto elect a new Nighstalker quickly. It was the only way to use the hunters effectively since only the Nighstalkerwas able to command them. It might seem strange or stupid - and probably it was - but that was the way the tribe worked. Their society was based on a rigid hierarchy, and the elves were so bound by their traditions that there was little difference between laws and customs.


    "Everything is falling apart because of me." She whispered.


    "You''ve done nothing wrong." Kolvar said, his voice rising in anger, "It''s Tinesia''s fault."


    "No, Kolvar, don''t you see? I''m a suspected criminalbut at the same time, I''m still a contender for the Nighstalker''s title. This means that the tribe can''t elect a new chief hunter without first holding a Conclave."


    "You''re innocent, Lithoniel." He said. "Besides, it was the Loremaster who took the decision to delay the Conclave. It has nothing to do with you."


    Lithoniel didn''t answer him. She just rubbed her temples.


    "What a mess." She muttered under her breath.


    Now I know why Rolimwas so cryptic.But what about Naevys? The tribe is in danger, what she is waiting for? To begin with, why is she helping me?


    There was only one way to know for sure.Lithoniel took a deep breath. At least now she knew what she had to do. She studied Kolvar. The elf looked back at her, blinking those big eyes up at her, completely unaware of what was going on.


    Lithoniel cleared her throat, "Kolvar, you should go. I don''t want you to get into trouble."


    "But..."


    "Don''t worry, I''ll see you soon." She smiled at him, trying to sound reassuring.


    Kolvar nodded, reluctance stamped all over his childish features, "Please, take care of yourself Lithoniel." He said, looking at her with such affection that Lithoniel''s smile cracked a little.


    When he was gone, Lithoniel took a peek outside. It was dark, maybe a couple of hours after sunset, but she could see the two guards.


    And if I can see them, they can see me.


    Lithoniel frowned. Unless she had no other choice, she didn''t want to knock them out.


    If only I could be invisible or merge with the shadows...


    She was thinking about it when she felt something strange like a weird itching spreading all over her body. It was close to that uncomfortable and terrifying sensation she''d felt when that black mark appeared on her skin for the first time.


    She frantically lifted her shirt but froze when her eyes fell on the small mirror before her. She couldn''t see herself. She looked down at her hands, but they were invisible.It was like she''d just vanished. She opened her mouth wide, an explainable fear spreading from the pit of her stomach. Then she walked closer to the mirror and saw something moving on the rough floor: a shadow - tapered and elongated - mirroring her movements. Her shadow.

 Chapter 13 - Before the conclave 3

    Lithoniel


    Lithoniel covered her mouth with her hand, dampening that gasping sound rising in her throat. She didn''t know how this was happening or why, but she felt it was unnatural. Wrong. Yet, this was exactly what she needed at the moment: a way out. She calmed herself, controlled her breathing as she sneaked a peek outside, checking on the guards. She saw old Mor, head down and half asleep, staggering back and forth as he leaned on his spear, and another elf she''d never seen before.


    "Mor" The other guard said, looking in the distance before nudging him. "Wake up."


    "What?" He grunted, rubbing his eyes.


    "Your niece."


    All of the sudden his eyes were wide open.


    "Eh? Where?" He asked as he looked around, searching for her.


    Lithoniel squinted her eyes. The night was dark and the ashes falling from the sky seriously affected visibility, but she found her immediately.


    Liara? What is she doing here?


    "Little one." Mor said, smiling. When she was close enough, he tried to pat her head, but Liara stepped back, avoiding his hand. She was wary, looking at him with suspicion.


    "She still doesn''t like her uncle..." The other guard said but yelped in pain when Mor kicked him in the shin.


    "What do you know!" He barked at him. Then he crouched down and looked at Liara in the eyes.


    "Do you came to see me, little one?" He sounded hopeful, but Liara shook her head.


    "She never comes to find you, old boot." The other guard mumbled as he rubbed his sore leg.


    Mor glared at him. Then he glanced at Liara and sighed. "I''m sorry, Liara. You should know I can''t let you see her."


    Liara frowned, staring at her uncle with a look of disappointment on her face.


    "Don''t be like that, little one. You know I would if I could."


    Liara shook her head, clearly conveying she didn''t believe him. Then, she opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out.


    "What? You don''t like uncle anymore?" Mor asked, dismayed.


    "Anymore?" The other guard smirked. "She never liked you."


    Mor started scowling at him but winced when Liara nodded. In the meanwhile, Lithoniel took a step outside, then another and stopped. She expected them to look at her, but they didn''t.


    Well, no one did except Liara. She frowned, looking at the point where Lithoniel was standing before squinting her eyes, a puzzled look on her faze. Mor followed her gaze.


    "What? Did you see something?" He asked, but after a second or two Liara shook her head.


    As she went forward, Lithoniel decided to stay away from that main road to avoid the guards. and took a long detour through the organized chaos of the village. It wasn''t really necessary since she was like a ghost, unseen by men and the few beasts of burden. It was like she was covered by some kind of cocoon, which protected but at the same time isolated her from the outside world.


    Inside of it, the sounds were muffled, the colors less bright and even her surrounding were oddly blurry. Everything looked dull, almost surreal. She couldn''t feel the wind on her skin or the smell of smoke rising from the campfires. Actually, she could feel nothing, except that weird itching growing stronger and stronger while she became weaker for some reason.


    It was almost becoming too much to bear when she finally reached Naevys'' tent. She''d just managed to enter before falling, one knee down on the ground as the world around her became normal once again. Only when the air filled her lungs she understood why she was feeling sick before: she wasn''t breathing. Lithoniel involuntarily shivered.


    A minute too late and I...


    She shook her head, trying not to think about it. Luckily, except for the person she was looking for, there was no else around. She found her teacher sitting on the ground, her eyes closed like she was sleeping, or as Naevys liked to say: meditating.


    "Lithoniel?! What are you doing here?"


    "Teacher I..." She started, but apparently, Naevys had no intention to let her talk.


    "Do you realize you are taking a huge risk coming here?"


    "I do but..."


    "No, but! Turn around and go back to your tent. Go, go..." She pushed her away and then pointed at the exit.


    "Loremaster, I know what you have done."


    Naevys froze.


    "What? I don''t know what you mean." Naevys played dumb.


    "Teacher, Kolvar already told me."


    Naevys stared at her for a second or two and then sighed.


    "I know this would happen. I told Rolim that sooner or later his brother would find a way to meet you." She grumbled, shaking her head.


    "Why? Why didn''t you tell me, teacher?"This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "And what would have you done then?" Naevys retorted. "Act like a noble idiot as you usually do?"


    Lithoniel opened her mouth wide, dumbfounded. "B-But the situation..."


    "The situation is much more complicated than you think, Lithoniel. Maybe you think I''m delaying the Conclave just because I want to protect you, but that''s not the case."


    "I don''t understand."


    "Exactly, you don''t. And that''s why I kept you in the dark."


    Her expression softened a little, "Listen Lithoniel, I know that you are innocent and that it''s thanks to you that the hunting expedition didn''t end in a complete disaster. I know you didn''t break the vow and I know you don''t deserve any of this. However, I would give you up without a second thought if it would help to save lives."


    "Then, why?!"


    "Like I said" She patiently answered, talking very slowly like this was one of their lessons. "the situation is complicated. There is more at stake here than you think. The Nighstalker is dead, Elwin and I are both old, we are close to winter and low on food. And now this." Naevys shook her head. "We''re hanging on a thread, Lithoniel. We can''t afford to make mistakes. Not anymore."


    "The Nighstalker" She guessed. "You are delaying the Conclave because you don''t want Garluin to be the Nighstalker."


    "You are half right." She said, a glint of appreciation in her eyes. "Garluin is...dangerous. Too radical, too charismatic for his own good."


    "But?"


    "But...being elected as the next Nighstalker may be the lesser evil."


    Lithoniel frowned. "The lesser evil?"


    Naevys nodded. "Let me ask you a question, Lithoniel. Why do you think Garluin forced you to swore that oath?"


    "Because he didn''t think I would come back."


    "True." She admitted. "But you came back. Don''t you wonder why he defended you before the tribe?


    Lithoniel frowned. "I don''t know."


    "Then I''ll tell you. It''s because he never wanted to be the Nightstalker in the first place."


    Lithoniel looked stunned, "If he doesn''t want to be the Nighstalker, why did he do all this?"


    "He aims higher than that, Lithoniel."


    "Higher?"


    "Who is the leader of the tribe? Who does the Nighstalker take orders from?


    "The Loremaster." She answered, suddenly out of breath.


    "Indeed. And Lithoniel, do you know who is the greatest obstacle he has to face?"


    Lithoniel thought about it for a second or two before shaking her head. She had no clue. Unlike Elwin or the former Nighstalker, Naevys had never bothered to nominate a successor.


    But as the Loremaster kept staring at her, Lithoniel began to have this strange feeling her old teacher was trying to tell her something. She was puzzled, but that confusion quickly turned into shock when a crazy idea started to take shape.


    "Me?" She whispered, her voice tentative, almost fearful to say it out loud.


    "You." Naevys confirmed. "Why do you think I taught you all these years?"


    "B-But I am not the only one; there were dozens of children..."


    "At the start, yes, but now? You''re the only one left."


    Lithoniel opened her mouth wide. She remembered the children becoming less and less until one day she was the only one left. She''d paid no attention to it at the time. Actually, she''d believed they didn''t want to stay in the same room with tribe''s pariah, the Half-blood. She''d thought that maybe the parents complained to Naevys and that''s why she became much stricter.


    "All the children must attend my class, Lithoniel. But after a while, usually a year, I let them go to learn a craft. After all, only the Loremaster and his successors never stop learning. My successor, Lithoniel" She stared at her fixedly.


    "Then you..."


    "I was grooming you, training you to take my place."


    "But every time we met you seemed..."


    "Strict? Intransigent? Unreasonable even?" Naevys laughed. "You can say it, you''re not going to offend me. But really, there is nothing surprising about it. The survival of the tribe depends on the Loremaster. Besides, your situation is...unusual. The trials you faced in the past and the ones waiting for you in the future are much harsher than normal. Besides, I couldn''t let anyone know you were the person I choose."


    It wasn''t hard to understand why. Me as the chief of the tribe? Ridiculous.


    "How didn''t I see that?" Lithoniel said, shaking her head.


    "Don''t blame yourself. You weren''t the only one I kept in the dark. No one knew."


    Naevys smiled. "Ironically, it''s thanks to your reputation that I was able to keep the secret for so long. Every time you came to see me, everyone believed I just wanted to keep an eye on you."


    "Everyone...except Garluin."


    Naevys grimaced. "He has always been smarter than the others."


    "I still don''t understand why he defended me. If I''m an obstacle for him, why didn''t he take the opportunity to take me down?" Lithoniel asked.


    Naevys looked gloomy. "Because he doesn''t want to. Not anymore."


    "What do you mean?"


    "Because you are the Nightstalker''s successor now. I don''t know what he is plotting, but trust me, he wants you to be the Nightstalker. Because if you are..."


    "I can''t be the Loremaster."


    It was simple and logic.


    Lithoniel frowned. "I still think it''s easier to just exile me."


    "Maybe so" Naevys admitted. "but that''s not what he wants. Otherwise, he would have helped Tinesia. She is trying to convince the people you are guilty."


    "He isn''t helping her?"


    "No." Naevys confirmed. "Think about it, Lithoniel. Tinesia is saying to everyone that Garluin is her husband''s successor. If they find you guilty, won''t he be in an awkward position? After all, he doesn''t want to be the Nighstalker. But let''s say he finds a way to step back from the nomination. Other than you and Garluin, who is next in line? Who do you think the tribe would elect in that case?"


    Lithoniel frowned. If it was before the hunt, there were at least a dozen people, veteran hunters who could take the Nightstalker''s place. But now?


    They are all dead. She realized. And there was just one person, reliable and trusted by everyone.


    Lithoniel opened her mouth wide. "Rolim?!"


    "Yes, Rolim. I don''t know what happened exactly between the two of them, but Garluin hates him much more than he hates you."


    Naevys was incredibly perceptive, but she wasn''t entirely right about this.


    Garluins doesn''t hate him. He is scared of him.


    "Can''t you nominate someone else as your successor? If Garluin is bad as we think, isn''t it better to find another candidate?"


    "Who? Who do you think is strong enough to oppose him?" Naevys asked, a bitter smile on her face. "You know that according to the tribe''s rules only the tribesmen under twenty-five years old can be elected. There still some good seedlings, but none of them can stand up to Garluin." She stared at her. "Not like you did."


    "What about Rolim?"


    Naevys nodded, "He is respected, but he is also a loner, too taciturn and independent to lead the tribe. He would make a good Nighstalker, but the Loremaster? I don''t think so."


    "Teacher..." Lithoniel but she hesitated when she saw how tired she was. Naevys looked old, her face withered and pale.


    "What is it?" Naevys asked, urging her to talk.


    Lithoniel bit her lips. "We are talking about the future, but what about the present? You always said that we must focus on the task at hand before thinking of what may or may not happen in the future."


    "Little girl, are you using my own words against me?" Naevys asked, her mouth curling in amusement.


    "I''m sorry." Lithoniel looked embarrassed.


    "And I suppose you''re referring to the Conclave?"


    Lithoniel nodded.


    "I know what you want me to do, Lithoniel. You want me to stop delaying it. Am I right?"


    "Yes."


    "Stubborn girl." She muttered under her breath. "After everything I said, you still don''t understand why I can''t?"


    "I understand but..."


    "Lithoniel" She interrupted. "This is not about you."


    "I know, but I can''t just stay in my tent, safe and sound while people are missing. Moreover, it is my fault if the tribe''s is without a Nighstalker."


    Naevys sighed. "I see you''ve already decided. And probably if I try to stop you again, you''ll do something even more stupid, right?"


    Despite everything that was happening, Lithoniel smiled. "You know me well, teacher."


    "I do, unfortunately, I do." She grunted. "You could lose everything. You know it, right?"


    "I could but I won''t."


    Naevys narrowed her eyes. "How can you be so sure?"


    "Because Garluin won''t allow it."


    Naevys stared at her, completely speechless.


    "Didn''t you say it yourself, teacher? Garluin hates Rolim more than he hates me. He doesn''t want me to lose."

 Chapter 14 - The conclave 1

    Lithoniel sat on the small stone steps circling around the "Temple", the natural rock arena standing on the plateau highest point. It was where the elves had held their commemorations for hundreds of years: a place of gathering serving as a temple for their sacred rites and as tribunal. Two thousand elves were there, waiting for their turn, the occasion to present their last respects. They said no words to remember the dead, sung no songs to celebrate their lives and shed no tears for the ones they lost. Because for the elves, that was the real purpose of funerals: remember the dead for one last time before forgetting them.


    One by one, family and friends descended the stone steps and reached the inner yard where the elders, Naevys and Elwin, awaited. The absence of the Chief Hunter, the Nightstalker, was made even more obvious by the number of stone seats, three in total while just two were occupied.


    Every elf carried a small token: a bow''s string, a pair of gloves, a necklace, and threw it on the pile of wood at the center of the yard. Everyone participated. Everyone except Lithoniel. She was alone, isolated from all the others elves by the thick wooden bars of her cage. The door wasn''t locked and aside from the iron chains on her legs and hands, she wasn''t a prisoner. After all, Naevys didn''t put her there to imprison her, but to protect her. Lithoniel could see the stares of the people around her, the unconcealed hostility in their eyes.


    She understood well enough that it was for her own protection, but even though she knew this was for her own good, it didn''t reduce the bitterness she was feeling. Once again she was different, kept apart from the others.


    Moreover, there was something that bothered and scared her almost like what it was about to happen: namely that weird itching on the right side of her stomach. It was irregular and discontinuous, but she could still feel it. It was like it wanted to remind herthe mark was still there, hidden beneath her shirt. But how could she forget?


    She bore the mark of it on her skin; the black ink of a new tattoo, a second branch almost identical to the first one. It was like a nightmare, a foreign object trying to carve out a place in her, slowly but inexorably taking over her body.No, no matter what she did, she couldn''t forget.


    The only thing she could do was trying not to think about it and focus on something else. And so she did.She looked down, observing the rites.


    The procession lasted for hours until most of the afternoon was gone and the sun flickered one last time before disappearing for good. Three elves moved close to the pile, a big fire rising when they threw the torches in their hands. The wood was dry and hollow and old; it didn''t catch gradually but flared up. It was like the wood had been dusted with the black powder of the east, the flames sizzling and rising unnaturally high before suddenly dying out, leaving just ashes behind them.


    Normally, this would have been the end of it, but this time was different. Some elves started to beat on their drums, the low and oppressive sounds resounding in the arena as one by one two thousand heads turned toward Lithoniel. She swallowed, knowing all too well what that meant. It was her turn. She gave one last look to Kolvar and Rolim as she stood up. The youngest brother''s eyes were red and damp, his concern written all over his face. But even Rolim looked worried, though he tried not to show it.


    Lithoniel''s eyes were locked on her feet as went down the stairs, but she could still feel theirgazes on her, hear them whispering, talking about the tribe''s pariah, the foundling they should have never accepted among them.That was just the beginning.


    All of the sudden someone threw something at her: a small rock, round and no bigger than a marble.


    Lithoniel instinctively dodged. Then she lifted her head just in time to see a kid - no older than ten years old - still holding a slingshot as he stared at her. But it was the look in his eyes, the pure hatred within them, which made her pause.


    That was a mistake.


    Although the rock didn''t hit her, it was like a signal for the others. They started yelling, lashing out at her like it was her fault if their loved ones died.


    "Half-blood!" "Oathbreaker!" "Bastard!" They said that and much more, and when the insults were not enough to give voice to their hatred, they started throwing things at her.


    They were stones mostly, tiny and not enough to seriously injure her since they aimed them at her legs and chest; but someone came prepared and threw dung on her.


    Lithoniel wanted to make a run for it, but her legs were still chained, her walking speed extremely limited. All she could do was trying to protect her head with her hands and arms as she tried to bear the pain. She heard someone screaming "Stop!". The voice was familiar, but she couldn''t get distracted right now. She had to get down and fast. She lurched like she was drunk, but she couldn''t afford to fall. She knew it would be the end if she did.


    At some point, maybe because she was close to the bottom of the stairs, the screams abruptly stopped.


    Only then Lithoniel dared to look up and found herself staring at Naevys'' withered face. The Loremaster hadn''t done much to stop the people attacking her. She just stood up and stared at them, but it was enough.


    Lithoniel looked up on the stairs and saw Kolvar and Rolim trying to make their way through the crowd. They were trying to reach her. The elder brother opened his mouth, but the noise was too loud. She shook her head and then struggled to smile. She was trying to say she was fine, and they didn''t have to worry about her.


    She was lying of course.


    The stones they had thrown her were too small to do actual damage since none of them hit her head. However she was injured, her clothes torn and her legs and chest filled with small wounds.


    Something flickered on Naevys'' face when she looked at her - compassion and maybe a bit of pity - but it was just a moment and then it was gone.


    Lithoniel didn''t blame her. Naevys was the Loremaster. She really couldn''t show that she was concerned about her. Especially now.


    "On your knees" Naevys ordered when Lithoniel was ten steps away from her.


    When she knelt, two people came down the stairs.Lithoniel couldn''t help but look up.


    Traditionally, the defendant didn''t know the defender and accuser until just before the trial. That''s why she was more than a little curious about them. When she saw Tinesia smiling smugly at her before bowing to the Loremaster, she wasn''t surprised.But her defender was someone she would have never expected.


    It was someone Lithoniel hadn''t see for a long time; a blonde and pretty lady in her middle forties, a bit overweight but still vigorous. She looked like someone that had been very active in her youth but started to get fat as she got old. Still, there were toned muscles under that fat, countless scars hidden under the long brown robe she was wearing. It wasn''t surprising since she was Shylin: one of the best hunters of the last generation as well as Rolim and Kolvar''s mother. She was a bit older, and rounder than Lithoniel remembered, but it was her.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    Is she my defendant? Lithoniel still couldn''t believe it. Maybe Shylin didn''t hate her as Tinesia did, but she had never liked her. Lithoniel knew Shylin thought she had a bad influence on her sons.


    Why did she accept to be my defender? She wondered. But when she looked at Naevys, Lithoniel understood what must have happened.


    Naevys convinced her.


    How she did, Lithoniel didn''t know, but it didn''t matter at the moment.In the elf''s society, two things were important for both defender and accuser: skill and reputation.Shylin had them both. Lithoniel had no time to think about how Naevys convinced her. The Conclave was about to start.


    "We are gathered here in this day of mourning to judge Lithoniel, daughter of ashes." Tinesia started, addressing the crowd. "You know why you are here. You know what she did."


    The chatter grew stronger and stronger as Tinesia''s voice rose.


    "You all know who she is, from where she comes from. Is there really a need for a trial?"


    "Tinesia, this isn''t the time for an appeal" Naevys sounded annoyed. "Call your first witness."


    "I don''t think it''s necessary, Loremaster. We all know what blood runs in her veins, the sin of her birth is branded on her skin. We all know she is guilty..."


    "Loremaster! For how long do we have to listen to her nonsense? " Shylin asked.


    "...enough!" Naevys said. "Call your first witness, Tinesia, or I''ll have you removed."


    Tinesia didn''t even blink. She still had that smirk on her face like everything went as planned.


    "...very well. I call Baeris, son of Malgonis."


    Unwillingly, Lithoniel looked up, Baeris''s golden hair like a magnet for her eyes.


    The young elf came down the stairs, a cruel smile on his face as he looked at her.


    "Baeris" Tinesia said to him, but she was still looking at Lithoniel. "Can you tell us where Lithoniel was when the Nightstalker was killed?"


    "Loremaster." Shylin said. "How is that relevant to the case?"


    "This Conclave isn''t about the Nightstalker, Tinesia, but to determine if Lithoniel broke the vow or not." Naevys agreed with her.


    "I disagree, Loremaster. Everything that happened is a direct consequence of the Nightstalker''s death. Besides, knowing how Lithoniel behaved during the battle is a good way to understand her character."


    Naevys opened her mouth, likely to object a second time, but stopped as she saw Elwin shaking his head. "The Ancient" looked up where hundreds, maybe thousands of people were talking and shouting at the same time. Obviously, most of the elves wanted to hear more about what happened with the Nighstalker. There was nothing Elwin, and Naevys could do.


    This wasn''t a simple trial but a Conclave. Naevys and Elwin were just referees, and it was the crowd, the people who had the final say.


    "Answer the question, Baeris." Naevys said, sounding resigned.


    "She was far from the Zaruk, the furthest away from the Nightstalker."


    "And why is that?" Tinesia asked. "Isn''t Lithoniel a good hunter?"


    "She is." Baeris nodded.


    "So why did the Nightstalkerput her so far away?"


    "Because he didn''t trust her. The Nightstalker always said the half-blood can''t be trusted. She is the fruit of rape, treacherous like..."


    "That''s enough!" Naevys was forced to interrupt for a second time. "It''s not your place to talk about what Nightstalker may or may not have thought."


    "Even if it''s true?" Tinesia asked, and many elves laughed. "Sorry, Loremaster" She continued, seeing how Naevys was glaring at her. "Baeris, can you tell us about the circumstances leading to Liara''s escape?"


    "We were resting in a cave in the foothills of the Great Chasm when it happened. There was a lot of chaos at the time. Kolvar and Garluin were fighting and..."


    "They were fighting?" Tinesia asked, interrupting him, the shock on her face so well-emulated it looked real. "Why?"


    "Because of Lithoniel. Lately Lithoniel, and Garluin were getting closer and Kolvar didn''t like it."


    Getting closer? Lithoniel bit her lips. What game are they playing now?


    "It wasn''t true of course. Garluin has better taste than that. It was Lithoniel that whore that was trying to seduce him..."


    "Loremaster! The witness is deliberately insulting the defendant!"


    "I concur. I''m warning you, Baeris. Watch your tongue or the next person under trial will be you."


    "A-Apologies, Loremaster" Baeris bowed, intimidated.


    Naevys scoffed, glaring at him for a second or two before looking at Tinesia.


    "Continue"


    Lithoniel was too shocked to think clearly. Seduce him? Really?


    "Did Kolvar start the fight because he was jealous?"


    Baeris nodded.


    "And where was Lithoniel when this happened?"


    "Deeper inside the cave." He shrugged. "I don''t know where exactly."


    "But she was in command at the time, wasn''t she?"


    "Yes, she was."


    "And when did she come back?"


    "Some minutes later. Probably when they heard the screams."


    "They?"


    "Rolim was with her."


    "And what were they doing together? Exploring the cave?"


    Baeris hesitated, looking at Lithoniel for a second or two before shaking his head.


    "I can''t say."


    Apparently, Naevys'' threat worked quite well since he was much more careful, his answers short and vague. A pity that Tinesia was a lot smarter than she looked and made use of his behavior.


    "Baeris, you don''t have to worry." Tinesia said, her voice soft and low like she was trying to reassure him. "Lithoniel is not your leader, not anymore. She can''t do anything to you."


    "I think her and Rolim were trying to find someplace private to...you know..."He trailed off, but the meaning was clear.


    "I understand. But are you sure Lithoniel wasn''t there when the fight started?"


    "Yes."


    Tinesia turned to look at the crowd above them.


    "Lithoniel was in charge but went with a man instead of..."


    "These are just speculations, Loremaster!"


    "Tinesia..." Naevys hissed.


    "Apologies, Loremaster." Tinesia said and bowed, but she didn''t seem sorry. At all.


    "So, what happened after that?" She asked Boeris.


    "Rolim and Lithoniel managed to stop the fight and separate them, but..."


    "But?"


    "But by then, Liara was already gone."


    "So, Liara disappeared while Kolvar and Garluin were fighting?"


    "I think so."


    "But how is it possible? There wasn''t a look-out? Didn''t Lithoniel assign a guard or two to watch the entrance?"


    Baeris shook his head."She didn''t."


    Lithoniel grimaced. She knew she had made a mistake.


    "You were close to the Hollows, one of the most dangerous places of the Embersea, but there were no guards." She scoffed. "Interesting"


    "Where is the question?" Shylin asked.


    "Tinesia" Naevys said, her voice low and her tone snatchy. "This court is not your stage. This is the last time I warn you."


    "I am sorry, Loremaster."


    "Do you have any other question?"


    "No, Loremaster."


    "Defender, do you want to cross-examine the witness?"


    "I do." Shyln answered before turning to stare at Baeris.


    "Baeris, can you tell us about your relationship with Lithoniel?"


    Baeris looked surprised."Relationship?"


    "Are you friends? Enemies?"


    "Neither. Before the hunt, we barely knew each other."


    "Really? Then, what about your brother?"


    Tinesia looked startled like she didn''t predict Shylin would ask that question.


    "That''s irrelevant, Loremaster." She said. "What does Boeris'' brother have to do with this?"


    "Loremaster, I''m trying to prove the witness is biased against the defendant, in which case his testimony would be unreliable."


    Naevys nodded."Baeris, answer the question."


    "As far as I remember, my brother knew Lithoniel. But that''s it." He answered, but he looked uncomfortable, head down and avoiding eye contact.


    "So, they are just acquaintances? Is that what are you saying?"


    Baeris hesitated for a second or two before nodding."Yes"


    Shylin smiled like the cat that ate the canary."Loremaster, I have here some signed statements that could shed some light about the relationship between Naeran, Baeris'' brother and Lithoniel. One of them says that insults and abuse of every kind, sometimes even physical, were commonplace when Naeran and Lithoniel met. Another person says that he heard Naeran define Lithoniel as: A half-blood whore, a stain for the elven race and..."


    "Loremaster! What''s the point?" Tinesia asked, but she was agitated, her face red and her voice high pitched. "This is just what Naeran thought, what does it have to do with Baeris?"


    "For the ancestors, Tinesia. They are brothers." Shylin exploded. "Do you really..."


    "Naeran is one of the first people who disappeared! He is a victim! Do you really want to tarnish his memory?"


    "A victim?" Shylin snorted. "More like a thug, from what I hear."


    "Is this your new tactic, Shylin? Slandering someone who can''t defend himself?"


    They kept bickering until Naevys was forced to put a stop to it.


    "Enough!" She hissed. "I won''t allow you to turn this Conclave into a brawl! Control yourself. Both of you."


    When the Loremaster scolded them, Naevys and Shylin looked ashamed, or at least they acted as they were. The Conclave had just started but things were already heating up.

 Chapter 15 - The conclave 2

    Lithoniel


    After Baeris, it was Urilee''s turn.


    "Urilee, I have just two questions for you. Baeris said Lithoniel was trying to seduce Garluin and Kolvar got jealous. That''s the reason for the fight. Is it true?" Shylin asked.


    Lithoniel involuntarily winced when she heard the word seduce together with Garluin. She still couldn''t believe Tinesia could come up with something like that.


    "No way. Lithoniel hates Garluin. There is no way she would try to seduce him."


    "If that''s the case, what happened that night? Why did Kolvar attack him?"


    "It was Garluin. He whispered something to Kolvar and made him furious. Probably he insulted him."


    "That''s just a conjecture, Loremaster." Tinesia said.


    But Naevys didn''t say anything like she didn''t hear her.


    "But why? Why would he do that?" Shylin asked.


    "I don''t know for sure, but..."


    "But?"


    "I think Garluin planned this." Urilee continued.


    "Why?" Shylin asked.


    "He wanted Lithoniel to break the vow. He forced to Kolvar to attack him and someway convinced Liara to run."


    "Someway?" Tinesia laughed. "And how, pray tell, did he do it?"


    "Probably he seduced her" Shylin interjected. "He is a handsome young man..."


    Tinesia looked furious. Probably she didn''t like seeing Shylin using her own tactic against her. "That''s just rubbish! Loremaster!" Tinesia sounded frustated, "Please say something!"


    It wasn''t a surprise since Naevys was ignoring on purpose


    Naevys sighed.


    "Shylin, Urilee, enough." Naevys scolded, but her voice was gentle and soft like she was amiably talking with her granddaughter.


    "Loremaster..." Tinesia said, gritting her teeth.


    "Don''t look me that way, Tinesia. I''m old. My hearing isn''t as good as it used to be." She said, but her eyes were laughing.


    Bad hearing? You can hear an elf walking from one hundred steps away, Loremaster.


    Tinesia looked like she sucked the bitter root of an ebontree.


    Teacher seems impartial, but it''s just an act.


    The thought filled her with warmth, but at the same time, it worried her. Lithoniel knew how strict Naevys could be. She had always been impartial and rational in her decisions. She was the true pillar of the tribe, the leader who led them for more than fifty years without favoring anyone.


    And now she is breaking her principles. Because of me.


    She was still thinking about that when Shylin called her son to the stand. Kolvar, not Rolim.


    When he came forward, Lithoniel noticed that he seemed very different; he wasn''t the old Kolvar, carefree and always smiling, but looked serious, his expression guarded like he was desperately trying to restrain his emotions.


    Lithoniel almost suspected Shylin made a mistake and called Rolim instead.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    What happened to him? It''s almost like he...grew, all of a sudden.


    It was weird but not as weird as seeing mother and son looking at each other like they were strangers. Lithoniel knew their relationship was strained, but she didn''t think it was that bad.


    "Tell me, Kolvar. When you were in the cave did Garluin say something to you?"


    "He did."


    "Do you remember his words?"


    Kolvar nodded.


    "Can you repeat them?"


    Lithoniel pricked up her ears. She had no time to ask before, but she really wanted to know what Garluin said to him.


    She stared at Kolvar, but she was shocked when she saw the look on his face. She had never seen him so solemn, his face a mask of determination.


    "I can, but I won''t."


    His words caused an uproar.


    "Kolvar, you know how important this is for Lithoniel." Shylin tried to reason with him. "Are you sure you don''t want to answer?


    Kolvar flinched when his mother mentioned Lithoniel, but he didn''t budge. "I am sure."


    "At least can you tell us why?"


    Kolvar seemed to think about it for a long minute.


    "Because what Garluin said is demeaning and offensive." He said speaking very slowly, his voice loud and clear like he wanted everyone to hear his words. "If I repeat those word, I would smear her reputation. That''s why, no matter what, I won''t do it."


    "Her?" Shylin glanced at Lithoniel and then back at Kolvar, a strange look on her face. "Are you talking about Lithoniel?"


    Kolvar winced, realizing he said something he wasn''t supposed to say.


    "Yes." He admitted.


    "So, is that the reason you attacked Garluin? Because you were defending her honor?"


    In that instant, Lithoniel and Kolvar''s gaze met but he quickly looked away as he couldn''t bear to look at her.


    "Yes, but I made a mistake. This isn''t Lithoniel''s fault but mine." Kolvar continued. "I shouldn''t have fallen in Garluin''s trap."


    "Trap? Are you saying Garluin planned this?" Shylin asked.


    "Nonsense!" Tinesia''s shrill voice interrupted her. "Where is the proof?"


    "I don''t need to prove it." Kolvar sternly said. "Garluin is a schemer and clearly he..."


    "You are just slandering him because you want to hide your lack of control. You took a liking to the half-blood and..."


    "Shut up" Kolvar hissed.


    Tinesia snickered.


    "Did I hit a nerve, Kolvar?" She said, her voice no more than a whisper. It was so low that even with the elves sensitive ears just the people nearby were able to hear her.


    "Poor Kolvar. Do you really think she didn''t know?" Tinesia said pointing the finger at Lithoniel. "Because if that''s the case, you''re a fool."


    Kolvar looked nervous, scared even as he slowly turned to stare at Lithoniel. He had a pleading look on his face like he was begging her to say it wasn''t true, that Tinesia was lying and she didn''t know.


    Unfortunately, she couldn''t, and when their eyes met, Lithoniel averted her gaze.


    Lithoniel couldn''t keep lying to him. She did know about it. She had known for a long time.


    I am a coward. I can''t even look at him.


    Because she knew what she would find on his face if she did: anger, betrayal, maybe even hatred.


    But when she raised her head and their gazes met, there was none of it, just pain.


    Maybe it was better if he was angry.


    She could bear the hatred, but the disappointment on his face? The pain in those hollow eyes? That was way worse.


    Lithoniel''s mind was chaotic. She opened her mouth, trying to say something but no word came out just a hissing sound, quickly drowned out by another, stronger voice. Tinesia''s.


    "It seems I was right." Tinesia said, shaking her head. That mocking undertone and


    the smug look on her face was awfully similar to Garluin''.


    They almost looked like mother and son, both hateful, both people Lithoniel really wanted to kill.


    "Poor Kolvar. For how long did you follow her around like a lost puppy?"


    "Tinesia, enough!" Naevys said, but she didn''t stop.


    "And for what? You just let her use you and then discard you when she found someone smarter and stronger than you."


    Lithoniel looked with apprehension at Kolvar. He was unnaturally still, his eyes closed and his face unfazed like he couldn''t hear her words.


    Something is wrong.


    That wasn''t like him. Kolvar always had a short temper, ready to snap at the first provocation. But now? He looked calm, too calm.


    "And do you know who that someone really is?"


    When Kolvar didn''t answer, she laughed.


    "You should. That person is really close to you, you know."


    "Stop talking, Tinesia." Shylin warned.


    "But it''s only natural. After all, why would Lithoniel choose the boy when she can have the man? Why would she choose the youngest brot..." But Tinesia was never able to finish what she was saying.


    Without warning Kolvar charged toward her, an inarticulate sound, close to a feral growl, coming from his mouth. It happened so fast that no one was able to do anything, just looking with horror as Kolvar tackled Tinesia and pushed her down. Then he hit her, one, two, three times, his nails scraping her cheeks like paws as he slapped her.


    Naevys was the first to recover from the shock.


    "Separate them!" She ordered the guards.


    Even when they took him off her, Kolvar kept growling, a murderous look in his eyes as he watched Tinesia like he wanted to skin her alive.


    "Let me go!" He shouted like he was insane. "I want to kill her!"


    "Take him away." Naevys ordered. Her voice remained strong, but she looked shaken, her face pale and withered.


    Lithoniel looked horrified as the guards took him away, her shock second only to the guilt. She knew that this would have never happened if it wasn''t for her. It was all her fault, and looking at the expression on Shylin''s face, she knew it too.

 Chapter 16 - The conclave 3

    Lithoniel


    When Garluin finally arrived, he first bowed to Naevys and Elwin. Then he glanced at Tinesia. He didn''t look happy. Tinesia immediately shuddered and looked away like she was unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. She seemed scared, maybe even a bit ashamed to look at him.


    That''s a pretty big hint about the real nature of their relationship. But why is she so scared of him?


    Lithoniel wasn''t the only one to notice this.


    "The accuser seems a little shaken, Loremaster." Shylin said. "Maybe it''s better if I question him first."


    "Tinesia, is that alright with you?" Naevys asked butTinesia was looking at Garluin.


    He stared back at her and nodded. The movement was very subtle, almost undetectable, but Lithoniel saw it.


    "It''s alright, Loremaster." Tinesia answered, her voice soft and timid.


    Shelooked like a completely different person.


    "Go on." Naevys said to Shylin.


    "Thank you, Loremaster." She said and turned to look at Garluin. "Garluin, you heard what Kolvar said. Is it true? Did you insult Lithoniel on purpose just to wind him up?"


    "I didn''t."


    Shylin frowned. "Are you saying he lied?"


    "I think he misunderstood." He looked calm, unperturbed like he expected Shylin would ask him that."There was a lot of noise at the time and everyone was tired. I said something about Lithoniel but it was a compliment." He said, his face perfectly neutral.


    "Are you trying to say this was just a misunderstanding?" Shylin sounded skeptical.


    "An unfortunate misunderstanding, yes. I knew what Kolvar thought about Lithoniel, but..."He shook his head. "I misjudged the situation. I can just say that I''m sorry." He sounded distraught, his face emotional and his voice raw. It almost looked like those words came from the bottom of his soul.


    The frown on Shylin''s face deepened. Lithoniel had a pretty good idea about what she was feeling at the moment. Garluin was slippery as an eel, but what annoyed her most was that he still managed to look like the good guy.


    "Why did you ask Lithoniel to swore that vow, Garluin? Why did you give her the Nighstalker''s ring and a position that was rightfully yours?"


    "You weren''t there that night. You can''t know what we went through, the horrors we were forced to face. At the time, I wasn''t thinking about titles or honors, but to survive. Lithoniel was the best choice. I trust her abilities and that''s why I wanted her to protect Liara. She was vulnerable, the weakest of us. I didn''t want to see another hunter, a fellow elf, to die before my own eyes." He sighed loudly. "I never thought that a vow made in the spur of the moment would bring such trouble. I''m sorry about that." He said to Lithoniel and bowed deeply to her."But don''t worry, I already found a solution, a way to make things right."


    "Loremaster, Garluin is a witness. It''s not his place to..." Shylin started.


    She was immediately booed by the crowd, her words meeting with a chorus of disapproval.


    Elwin sighed. "Let him talk. If he''s able to find a satisfying solution I don''t see why we shouldn''t listen to him." He nodded to Garluin. "Continue"


    "Thank you, Master of the woodcarvers." Garluin bowed. "The outcome of this Conclave is still undecided, but I can''t bear to see Lithoniel pay for a crime she didn''t commit."


    Lithoniel snorted. "How generous how you." She muttered under her breath.


    "She can be a bit reckless, but it would be a mistake for the tribe to lose her. That''s why I think we should give her the honor she deserves."


    "Honor?" Naevys frowned. "What are you getting at, Garluin?"


    Garluin grinned."I think she should be the next Nighstalker."If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    And then, all hell broke loose.


    "I know you have doubts. After all, you didn''t see what I saw, you didn''t watch Lithoniel fight and defeat the Zaruk." He wasn''t speaking to Naevys or Elwin anymore, but directly addressing the crowd."That''s why I propose a different kind of test, one more suited to Lithoniel, to prove her innocence."


    "What kind of test? Where are you going with this, Garluin?" Naevys asked.


    "I''m just saying we should trust actions, not words. Let her solve the problem that plagued our tribe for so long. Let her find the tribesmen who had gone missing, and lastly, let her find the culprits and bring them to justice." Garluinstared at Lithoniel. "I already know there is just one person who deserves the Nighstalker''s title, and that''s you, Lithoniel.You did the impossible. You defeated the Zaruk. Now it''s time to show the tribe what I saw. Show them what you are capable of."


    He made her skin crawl, and when he smiled, her instinct started screaming.


    He is dangerous, don''t let him talk!


    But she was dazzled, and she wasn''t the only one; Lithoniel, Shylin, Naevys, and probably half the people here, were all bespelled by his voice, charmed by the soothing flow of his words or the hypnotic glimmer in his eyes. Lithoniel blinked like she was waking up from a dream, but the damage was done.


    "And if she...no" He shook his head, correcting himself. "When she does, nobody will call her half-blood or oathbreaker because she will be one of the most important people of this tribe. She will be our Nighstalker."


    Once again his words risked starting a riot.


    "Silence!" Elwin said, his voice booming like a thunderclap."Loremaster" He said to Naevys. "You are the only one that can say if Garluin''s proposal is doable. Are any precedents in the annals of our history?"


    Naevys closed her eyes like she was trying to take a decision.


    Then she reopened them and sighed."There are."


    "I object, Loremaster! Lithoniel broke an oath, she can''t be..." Tinesia said, her voice regaining a bit of its former strength.


    Garluin proposed this...why is she objecting?


    "You are the only one saying she did, Tinesia!" Shylin countered. "The verdict is still undecided."


    "Precisely. That''s why..."


    "That''s why, Tinesia, the people will decide, not you." Naevys said.


    Tinesia''s answer was milder than expected."Very well, Loremaster. However...this is Lithoniel''s trial." She said, a crafty expression on her face. "This is her task, it''s only fair if shecompletes it alone. No one should help her in this endeavor."


    "Tinesia! That''s suicide!" Shylin said. "Loremaster..."


    "Why don''t we let Rolim and Kolvar help her?" Garluin interjected. "Three people like the members of our council."


    "Very well" Tinesia conceded. "But the situation must be solved quickly. We need a time limit. Let''s say...three days?"


    "Three days?! Are you out of your mind?!" Shylin shouted, starting to lose temper. "It has been more than a month since the first person went missing, and we didn''t discover anything! Lithoniel needs more time. A month, at least."


    "A week, no more than that." Tinesia rebutted.


    Shylin opened her mouth, probably to refuse, when Garluin said: "What about ten days?"


    The crowd started cheering and applauding. They seemed to likehis proposal.


    "I don''t think we have a choice." Shylin said bitterly. "We accept."


    Naevys looked at Shylin and Tinesia before saying: "The accuser and the defender seemed to have reached an agreement."


    "Almost. There is one last thing..."Tinesia said.


    "Tinesia, what else do you want?" Shylin sounded annoyed.


    "I just want to make sure the conditions and the results of this trial are clear. If Lithoniel succeeds, it means she is innocent. As the former Nightstalker''s wife, I''ll be the first person to offer my congratulations to the new Chief hunter. But if she fails..."


    "I don''t think it will happen. But if that''s the case..." Garluin frowned like it pained him to say those words. "It means she is guilty. She''ll have to leave the tribe and never come back."


    "That''s not enough." Tinesia added. "Not only her, but Rolim and Kolvar too will have to leave."


    Shylin paled. "Tinesia, what are you..."


    "Is just fair, isn''t it? After all, if she fails, it means they helped an oathbreaker. The punishment for that crime is just one: exile. If Rolim and Kolvar decide to help her, they have to be aware of the consequences."


    There is nothing fair about this.


    Judging from the scowl onher face, Shylin seemed to agree with her.


    "Very well, I think we can vote." Garluin said.


    "Wait...!" Lithoniel tried to stop him, but it was too late.


    "Everyone who agrees with this proposal, stand up!" He shouted.


    One by one the elves on the stands rose until everyone - or nearly everyone - was standing.


    It''s done.


    There was nothing she could do at this point. It was already decided. There were just two results: win and survive or lose and be exiled.The worst part was she knew what Rolim and Kolvar would decide.


    I might take both of them down with me.


    That''s when Garluin smiled, but it wasn''tthat smug grin of his or the mocking smile he usually liked to show. That smile was different, slight, almost imperceptible, but satisfied like everything went according to his plan, as if the people around him were just pawns, easy to move and manipulate, use them to hide his true purpose, the real reason he''d staged this elaborate farce in the first place.


    When the realization hit her she staggered, her lips trembling.


    ...I was never his target to begin with, but just the bait for a trap set for someone else.


    And there was just one person Garluin hated more than her.Naevys had told her before, but she had been careless, unable to see through his plan.Unable to predict the real target wasn''t her, but...


    Rolim!


    But even if she knew, she could do nothing about it. Maybe that''s what Garluin was trying to convey with that smile. He was trying to tell her they were just insects caught in his spider web. No matter how much they struggled, they couldn''t escape.

 Chapter 17 - Preparations 1

    Lithoniel


    That night Lithoniel didn''t sleep much and the next day she got up early. There was much to do and little time to do it. She''d spent more than a month moldering away in a little tent, her personal bubble isolating and protecting her from the world outside. In that time, the situation had changed and not in a good way.


    The atmosphere was tense, grim, but the real problem was the inner turmoil the tribe was facing. The elf society had always been strict, divided into three main castes: the hunters, the woodcarvers, and the erudites.


    Some said that the caste system was the legacy of the past, others that their society had been built that way because the elves needed a clear hierarchy to maintain the order in a land filled with chaos and death. Whatever the case was, such clear division created a stiff and disjointed society.


    The woodcarvers just trusted other woodcarvers, most of the hunters were too proud and interested in their personal glory to care about anything else, and the erudites...well, they believed their superior knowledge entitled them to tell the others what they should or should not do.Most of the elves were stuck in the old ways, more interested in respecting the ancient customs of a dead civilization than join forces for the common good.


    But if Elwin and Naevys were able to maintain some semblance of order in their own ranks, the hunters were the real problem. The former Nighstalker had never been a far-sighted person, but a petty man who just exacerbated the issue, centralized power in his own hands and doing so, created dissensions and divisions, a climate of mistrust which gave birth tofactions.


    All this put Lithoniel in a very awkward position. She still wasn''t the Nighstalker, but she was already learning about her duties, what that title really entailed. She''d spent most of the morning trying to gain information about the missing people, talking to the hunters patrolling the Great Penumbra or digging information about the victims. The problem was there wasn''t a second-in-command, which mean she had to speak with every single group, every faction hoping to obtain some information.


    Since most of the hunters didn''t want to talk to her, Lithoniel was forced to do something she would have never expected; she had to convince them to trust her. She made vague promises, pledged to settle grudges and even vowed to support a faction or two if it meant to obtain the information she needed.


    In the end, she had to negotiate and act more like an arbiter, a peacemaker - or worse of all -a politician than a commander.


    The task was exhausting, but it wasn''t completely useless. In fact, after listening to dozens of people, she started putting the pieces together and discovered that maybe the attacks weren''t as casual as everyone thought. There was a common thread connecting all the victims.


    In all this chaos surrounding her, Rolim was her rock, always calm and rational. That''s why when she told him about her theory, she wasn''t surprised when he didn''t agree with her.


    "It sounds crazy, right?"


    "No, but...I think you''re overthinking."


    "I hope so, Rolim, because if I''m not, I don''t think we have much time left."


    They stared at each other for a second or two, but she was the first to break eye contact. She knew the things were changing between the two of them, and Rolim was more outspoken, but she wasn''t sure how to react at the moment.


    Rolim sighed. He looked disappointed. "What do you want to do with Kolvar?"


    "I wanted to talk with him. Explain why I..."She bit her lips, hesitating. "...but I don''t think this is the right time."


    "I understand. I''ll talk to him. Don''t worry about it." He sounded so sympathetic that he just made her feel more guilty, a coward who was using him to clean her mess.


    "Thank you, and I''m sorry if..." She said, her voice remorseful.


    "You don''t have to thank me, Lithoniel. You have done nothing wrong. Kolvar...will come to terms with it."


    "I hope so." She bit her lower lip, "I hate to admit, but we need him."


    "He''ll come around. I''m sure of it." He reassured her.


    "What about the supplies?" She asked, trying to change the subject.


    Rolim was about to answer when she saw Fennan, Elwin''s aide, and successor, coming toward them.


    "You can tell me what you need, Lithoniel." Fennan said a big smile on his face like they were best friends. "Supplies, armor, weapons, maps...I can get you whatever you need."


    Lithoniel narrowed her eyes as she stared at him from head to toe. It was surprising and suspicious he would greet her like that. They weren''t close, and though they had the same age, they probably didn''t talk more than two or three times. Besides, since the Conclave had ended, both Elwin and Naevys refused to see her. She didn''t particularly care about Elwin - they had never been close - but her teacher''s rejection hurt her. It seemed like a betrayal, though she knew there had to be some reason if Naevys acted that way.


    "Why are you really here, Fennan?" She asked, but it wasn''t him the one to answer.


    "He is here on behalf of his master and the Loremaster." Rolim said as a matter of fact.


    Fennan looked surprised, his smile widening a becoming more genuine. He looked like Elwin''s younger version, a bit scrawny but really tall for an elf. He seemed reserved like his mentor and more interesting than handsome. He wore a faded-gray cloak which covered most of his body, head included, and gave him an air of mystery, a bit arcane like some ancient sorcerer.


    "Indeed, it seems there is more to you than meets the eyes, Rolim, son of Heifir." He said, his voice deep and solemn, unsuited for a young man of his age.


    "On their behalf? But why?" Lithoniel asked, puzzled.


    "They want to know about your plans. The Loremaster is worried about you, Lithoniel." Fennan answered.


    Those words filled her with warmth, but then Rolim snorted.


    "Of course they do." He said, his voice low but she could feel his anger. "They want to maintain a relationship with you in case you succeed, but they didn''t want to be seen with you in case you fail."


    Lithoniel opened her mouth wide.


    "No, the Loremaster isn''t like that." She denied.


    "She is keeping a foot in both camps, Lithoniel." He said before glaring at Fennan. "Just like his master."


    Fennan''s smile cracked a little, but his voice stayed calm.


    "I think you''re misjudging the situation, Rolim. Technically, until the end of the trial Lithoniel''s fate is still undecided. Master and the Loremaster have to be impartial. Besides, if they didn''t care, why did they send me?"


    "Because you''re of the younger generation and even if you are involved with us, you''ll be judged more lightly than Elwin and Naevys if we fail." Rolim answered without skipping a beat.


    The smile on Fennan''s face disappeared for good. He looked angry, walking toward Rolim until he was just a few inches from him.


    "It is Master of the Woodcarvers for you. You''re neither his apprentice nor one of his caste."


    "Really, Fennan? The whole tribe is falling into ruin, and that''s what you can think about? A title?"


    "You must address him with respect." Fennan said.


    "Only ifhe deserves it. And judging by how he and the Loremaster treated Lithiniel, I doubt they do."


    "Rolim, why don''t you make a list of all the supplies we need?" She asked him, trying to defuse the situation.


    "Fine"Rolim grunted. Then he scowled at Fennan and left.


    "I really don''t understand what you see in him." Fennan said, shaking his head.


    Lithoniel''s answer was to put her hands on her hip and glare at him.


    "What? No answer?" Fennan joked, for the first time sounding like someone of his age.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "We have other things to worry about, Fennan." She reprimanded.


    "So, it must be true. About you and Rolim I mean."


    Lithoniel grimaced. "I liked you better when you were acting like Elwin."


    "You''re deflecting." He insisted. "When did it start?"


    "Do you want to know what I discovered or not?!" She snapped.


    Fennan sighed. "You''re no fun. Fine, tell me."


    "I talked with the hunters who tracked the enemy, but the information I received was...contrasting. At best."


    Big Hunting expeditions were rare, the hunters usually moved in much smaller groups, four to six people max.


    "The only thing I know for sure is that the first person went missing just a few days before we came back. I suspect the enemy came from the west."


    Fennan knitted his brows, "West? Are you sure? I heard other groups found tracks in the South or even North, close to the Icy crinal."


    Lithoniel shook her head. "Those tracks are fresher."


    Fennan rubbed his forehead.


    "The west..." He looked troubled. "we know little about the tribes that live there."


    "That''s why I''m worried, why did they take all the trouble to come here? It doesn''t make sense. Besides, I''m not sure there is just one group."


    That got his attention.


    "Are you saying they were part of a bigger group and then split into two small ones?"


    "More like a half dozen or more."


    Fennan looked at her like she had two head.


    "How many ebonleaves did you smoke?" He joked.


    "I''m serious, Fennan. Think about it" She said patiently, though she was starting to get irritated. "They are elves, not humans, more used to move in small groups than in large companies. Besides, they are much harder to track this way."


    Fennan looked gloomy. "I don''t like where this is going."


    "I think what happened until now was just the beginning. They won''t stop until they get what they really want."


    "Which is?"


    "Our territory."


    His eyes went round.


    "You lost your mind. They are just some stragglers, renegades." Fennan said, downplaying the issue.


    "They are not stragglers, Fennan. If..."


    "Lithoniel, you said it yourself." He interrupted her. "They are elves. You know that the only thing that really matters for us elves is food, but there is none here."


    "True, but the Great Penumbra is one of the safest places in the entire Embersea. The earth never shakes here, there are no predators, and this place is hundreds of leagues from the human realm. It''s like a safe haven. Besides, talking about food, you know the Asp ridge and the Icy crinal aren''t that far from here, Fennan."


    "Alright, alright." He raised his hands in surrender. "I admit this is a good place, but this still doesn''t explain why they decided to act now. What changed?"


    Lithoniel grimaced. That was a thorny issue since she had no idea whatsoever.


    "That''s what we have to find out. If what I think is true, those are just scouts, sent here to test our defenses and maybe weaken us."


    Fennan furrowed his brow. "Weaken us?"


    Lithoniel nodded. "Didn''t you realize all the people that disappeared were young, most of them no older than 30,35 years old?"


    "You mean..."


    "They are targeting the young, those who can fight."


    "And kidnap them? But why? Why didn''t they just kill them?"


    "I don''t know. Maybe they want information about our defenses. There were many hunters among those who disappeared. Maybe the reason why we discovered their tracks but never managed to find them is that they know our patrols'' routes."


    "There are too many "maybe" in your theory for my taste, Lithoniel. But, just to make conversation, how many do you think there are?"


    "I can''t say for sure...but I think they are more than fifty but less than one hundred."


    Fennan shook his head. "That''s too few. They are not enough to take us head-on."


    "Right, that''s why I think there have to be more of them waiting for the right time to attack."


    Fennon sighed. "Lithoniel, at the end of the day, this is just a theory. You can''t be sure they''ll attack us. Hell, you can''t even say for sure there is more than one group."


    "If it''s the case, what are they doing here?"


    "Maybe they spent too much time away from their tribe and went wild or become mad. I have seen it happen, Lithoniel. Most of the Renegades end up that way."


    Lithoniel felt her mouth going dry. This will be your fate if you fail. That''s what he was trying to say.


    "I don''t think so." She said, a stubborn look on her face. "If they were just renegades or stragglers they would have left already. If there were just a few of them, we wouldn''t have found several sets of tracks scattered all across the Great Penumbra. And finally, if they were mad as you claim we would have caught them already."


    Fennan opened his mouth, closed it, reopened it and closed it again. It seemed like he wanted to rebut, deny every word she said, but he didn''t know how.


    "You''re forgetting that there is no way to say how old these tracks are." He said eventually.


    "In the Great Penumbra? Yes. However, those tracks weren''t found here, but all around us. You know that dust storms are common in the plains, Fennan, If those tracks were old like you said, they would have disappeared long ago, way before our hunters could find them."


    "And why are you the only one to realize this? Don''t take this the wrong way, Lithoniel. You are a hell of a hunter and probably the best archer of the entire tribe, but you''re young." Young? Really Fennan? You''re younger than me!


    "There are many hunters more experienced than you. How come none of them is aware of this?"


    "Because they don''t talk with each other!" She snapped. "You know how this works. Without the Nighstalker, most of the hunters think about themselves, their families or their small groups at best. Besides, none of them wants to share information and give an advantage to another faction when they might able to claim the merit for themselves later on."


    "So you''re saying they are a bunch of moronic glory hounds."


    Lithoniel winced. "That''s not exactly what I said, but..."


    "...but that''s what you mean."


    "...yes." She reluctantly admitted. "I like it less than you do, but..."


    "...It''s the truth. It''s fine Lithoniel, I''m not a hunter. There is no need to soften the blow." Fellan shook his head. "What are you planning to do?"


    "If I am right, we don''t have much time left. Soon they will attack us, and they will do it in strength. But that''s an entire tribe we are talking about, Fellan. No matter how good they are, they will leave a trail. They have to. We''ll just have to go to the source."


    "The source? You want to go there...in person?" Fennan said, looking at her like she was mad.


    "It''s the only way."


    Fennan snorted. "Sure, if you are an idiot or you have a death wish."


    "Fennan, listen..."


    "No, you listen. Let''s just forget for one second that you may be right, and they are preparing to attack us, in which case you three will be alone against who knows how many enemies. But...what if you are wrong? What will happen then?"


    "I don''t..."


    "Don''t bother, I''ll answer. You''ll waste precious time for something that most likely is just a wild-goose chase. Maybe you want to be exiled, and that''s your business. Frankly, I don''t care at this point, but I have no intention of losing two good hunters just because you think..."


    "Do you think I want that? If it were me, I''d be happy to leave by myself."


    "This isn''t a hypothetical situation, Lithoniel. You have to face reality, and the reality is Rolim and Kolvar will never let you go alone."


    "So? What do you expect me to do? Chase some scouts when an entire tribe is about to attack us?" She was exasperated.


    "That''s not your problem. No one asked you to save the tribe, Lithoniel. Let me repeat it, what will happen if you''re wrong?"


    "But if I''m right?


    "You aren''t."


    "Maybe not, but if there is even a small, tiny chance that I''m right and they are about to attack, what will you do then? Did you think about that?"


    "Don''t try and turn this around on me, Lithoniel! Not when you are about to risk three lives on a hunch!" He shouted, and Lithoniel flinched, but she didn''t back down.


    There was an awkward silence that neither of them was able to fill as their respective positions became clear.


    None of them wanted to give in, but in the end, it was Fennan who spoke first.


    "You aren''t going to change your mind, are you?" He sounded resigned.


    "I''m afraid not." She answered with a sad smile on her face.


    "I don''t agree with you, but I won''t try to dissuade you anymore. But let me tell you something before you leave."


    "What is it?"


    "It''s about the Loremaster." He said and frowned when Lithoniel stiffened. "You may think she abandoned you, but she really didn''t have a choice. The situation is unstable right now. The people are dissatisfied, angry. The Loremaster didn''t want you to hear this, but I think you should know the truth."


    "What truth?" She asked, her voice no more than a whisper.


    "That she protected you when the easiest and most reasonable thing to do was to throw you to the wolves. I''m talking about the Conclave, Lithoniel. Anyone else would have used the Conclave to stabilize the situation and offer you as a sacrificial lamb to appease the crowd. Instead, the Loremaster chose to protect you."


    Lithoniel looked confused. "But she didn''t want..."


    "...to see you?"


    Lithoniel nodded.


    "She can''t. She has already done everything she can. As it is, the Loremaster is the only one who can keep the tribe together, but she can do it only if she is impartial."


    "I understand." And she did, though it still hurt.


    She was about to leave but hesitated.


    "What is it, Lithoniel?" Fennan sounded impatient, but there was a hint of amusement in his brown eyes.


    "It''s about our patrols. So far they left them alone, but if I''m right..."


    "You think they''ll start to attack them?" He asked, understanding quickly what she was trying to say.


    "Yes"


    "Why are you telling me this?"


    Lithoniel took a deep breath. "I want you to talk with the Loremaster and ask her to get them back to the village or at least to increase the number of men outside the village."


    Fennan stilled. He looked stern, staring at her just like Elwin would have. "After everything I said, do you still ask this? Why?"


    "Because I think it''s important."


    Fennan groaned. It almost looked like he wanted to bang his head against the wall.


    "Lithoniel, you know the Loremaster can''t give an order to the hunters, not directly at least. That''s the Nighstalker''s role."


    "There is no Nightstalker now." She pointed out.


    "It doesn''t matter. She will never do it, and you know it."


    "Because the tribe won''t like it, I know. Far be it from us to break a custom." She sounded exasperated.


    Those old laws and customs may have been important in the past, but now they were just shackles that had no longer reason to exist. A pity she was one of the few to think that way.


    "They would see it as an abuse of power. She''ll never do it. She is the Loremaster, Lithoniel, the keeper of our traditions and an example for us all." He explained to her like he speaking with a child. "What will happen if she started disregarding our customs?"


    "She could if the Master of Woodcarver was to convince her."


    Fennan snorted. "Sure, Master may be able to convince her, if he wanted to. But he doesn''t."


    "That''s why you have to convince him."


    Fennan raised a brow."Maybe I misheard, but did you just ask me to convince my master so that he can convince the Loremaster to do something everyone would see as an abuse of power?"


    Lithoniel cringed. "Well, It sounds a bit insane now that you said it out loud."


    "Unbelievable. You''re unbelievable." He sounded completely stupefied. "Why the hell would I do that?"


    "Because it''s the right thing to do. You''re a rational person, even if you think the chance is minimal..."


    "More like nonexistent."


    "Even if it''s minimal," Lithoniel repeated, glaring at him. "there is no harm in being ready, don''t you think?"


    "And I suppose that the next thing you''ll ask me to do will be to improve security and reinforce our defenses."


    "That will be good, thanks." She answered,ignoring his sarcasm.


    Fennan gave her a dirty look, but she just shrugged, unrepentant.


    "Is that all, Lithoniel?"


    "There is just one more thing."


    "Really? What else?"


    "It would be better to have a contingency plan."


    Fennan looked confused and annoyed. Really annoyed.


    "What are you talking about?"


    "I''m talking about a way to save the tribe if things go wrong. I''m talking about a plan to leave the Great Penumbra."

 Chapter 18 - Preparations 2

    Lithoniel


    Lithoniel checked their provisions and equipment for the last time. Then she nodded, evidently satisfied.


    "I think everything is ready."


    "It is." Rolim frowned, a bit worried as he looked at her. "You look tired."


    "Just a bit." She admitted, a shaky smile on her face. "It''s been a long day."


    And it had been, but it was nothing compared with what she had done in the past. The fatigue she was feeling was just in small part physical. She was mentally exhausted, though she was trying to hide it.


    "I have something good to show you."Rolim said, evidently choosing to change the subject even if he knew she was deflecting.


    Something good?


    She peered with interest as Rolim lifted the heavy leather of his tent and titled his head to the side. There was something inside.


    Isn''t it...a sword?


    Rolim looked at the eager, almost childish expression on her face and smirked.


    "I wanted to give it to you now. But if you''re too tired..."


    "No! Stop!" She made a step forward and raised one hand up. "I''m not too tired."


    Women were women no matter the race, but even in this Lithoniel was different from the rest. She liked practical things and lethal weapons more than trinkets, perfumes and the useless junk the female elves loved to wear. That''s why she had no rings, necklaces, hairpins, and bracelets but owned an entire collection of pointy objects: mostly daggers of varying shape and size.


    "Are you sure? " He asked, his lips curling into a devious grin.


    "Yes...I..." She started to explain but soon realized he was just messing with her. "Stop teasing me and let me see it." She had never seen him this playful, not even when they were children.


    "Alright." He said, picked up the sword but when he was about to hand it over to her, Rolim''s fingers closed around her wrist. They lingered there for some seconds until Lithoniel realized what he was doing and backed away, a bit flushed.


    Rolim smile widened when their gazes met and faked a cough when she averted her gaze. He was trying hard not to laugh, and she knew it. Lithoniel gave him a reproachful look.


    but as soon as she unsheathed the sword she didn''t bother with him anymore. She had eyes only for the little beauty in her hands.


    "It''s beautiful" She whispered.


    The blade wasn''t particularly long, maybe just a bit over ninety cm, but it was thinner, narrower and way lighter than the ones the humans used to build. And yet, the black blade was sturdy like made of solid steel and flexible like a bow.


    But above all, it was elegant; the contrast between the black ebonwood of the blade and the white bone of the hilt was mitigated by the runes carved in the middle of it.


    Under the moonlight, they were like a magnet for her eyes.


    Lithoniel gave him a questioning look. "Who...?"


    "Fennan gave it to me, but it was Elwin who created it." Rolim explained.


    No wonder. Elwin''s craftsmanship is unsurpassed when it comes to working with the ebonwood.


    "He forged it specifically for you."


    Lithoniel immediately believed him. As soon as she tried to hold the longsword, she noticed it fit perfectly in her hand, the hilt fluted to ensure a better grip and wide enough for her to use it with two hands. Besides, the stylized turtle - almost like a miniature Zaruk baring its fangs - carved on the pommel was another big hint. This sword was tailor-made for her.


    She was happy since a sword was a rare weapon for the elves. Mostly, they liked to use bows and daggers, sometimes even spears whey they had to hunt something big. But a sword? It was very rare. A sword was a weapon of war, made to kill people, not beasts. The elves thought it was a brutal weapon just like those who used it.


    That''s why though she was happy for the gift, she couldn''t help but wonder...


    "Why? Why did he give it to me? A sword, of all things?"This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Rolim shook his head. "No idea, Fennan didn''t tell me, though it seems a lot like a bribe if you ask me."


    Hearing his cynical reply, Lithoniel grimaced and Rolim hastily said: "But I have to admit Elwin has outdone himself this time."


    No doubt about that.


    Lithoniel looked at the sword in her hands and all of a sudden she swung it. It made a strange sound, almost like a whistle when it cut through the air. At that moment she didn''t care if it was a bribe or there were conditions attached to it, she was just grateful. She belonged to her.


    "It''s beautiful, but..." She repeated, but she was frowning. "...what about the human runes carved on the blade? Clemenza?" She said stiffly.


    Rolim opened his eyes wide. "You can read it."


    The current elven language derived from the human tongue, but the pronunciation was completely different. Besides, in those hundreds of years after the cataclysm, the two languages had kept drifting, and now they shared just some words. So it wasn''t so surprising if Lithoniel had trouble speaking it, as the human tongue was harsher, more guttural and less musical than the elven language.


    "It means..."


    "I know what it means." Lithoniel interrupted him, maybe her tone a bit harsher than intended.


    Mercy. It was a banned word in the elven language. I know what it means, but I don''t know why Elwin put it on my sword.


    "It wasn''t Elwin." Rolim answered like he''d read her mind.


    "What?"


    "It wasn''t Elwin." Rolim repeated. "He just carved the runes on the blade, but it was the Loremaster who told him to do it. And as to why she did it...you''ll have to ask her directly."


    The Loremaster?


    That was even more baffling. Why did the Loremaster order him to put a taboo word on her sword? There was a reason if that word didn''t exist in the elven tongue. Not anymore, at least. She couldn''t understand the reason, and the only person she could ask for explanations was the same one who refused to see her. It was maddening. A sword was a weird gift for an elf to begin with, but engraving a banned word, and that word in particular, was an insult.


    Rolim sighed. "I have said it to you before, Lithoniel, but you have the tendency to overthink sometimes. It''s just a gift, nothing else. Besides, you love that sword, don''t you?"


    Lithoniel nodded and tried to smile, but her heart wasn''t in it.


    In the elves'' society, mercy was a synonym for weak and gifting a sword with such word engraved on it... Rolim probably was aware of what she was thinking and tried to divert her attention, but maybe he chose the worst way possible to do it.


    "I have talked with my brother." He said out of the blue.


    Lithoniel opened her mouth wide, mechanically sheathing the sword.


    "You...did?" He nodded. "A-and what...did he...?" She stuttered, her words chaotic like her thoughts.


    "He said he''ll come" He answered, taking her out of her misery.


    "Really?" Her voice cracked a little.


    Lithoniel didn''t know if she was relieved Kolvar didn''t hate her or distressed because she had another person who depended on her.


    But one thing was sure...It will be awkward. Just the three of us together.


    "Yes, really" Rolim confirmed. "But you don''t have to worry about him. Kolvar will listen to me."


    "He will?" She could help but ask. "I mean...I know he listens to his big brother." She said seeing he furrowed his brow. "But after...what Tinesia said about us...no" She rephrased. "...after what happened at the Conclave...you know when Kolvar..." And she trailed off, realizing she wasn''t improving the situation.


    "What Tinesia said?"Rolim repeated very slowly as he stared at her. He had a dangerous glint in his eyes, but it wasn''t his usual blank gaze, deadly almost as much as it was dispassionate. This was the opposite, a raw and wild emotion that made her feel threatened someway.


    "What did she say, Lithoniel?" He said, making a step toward her. It was very deliberate and slow as he eyed her like a predator stalking its prey.


    "You know what I mean." She said quietly, backing away while Rolim advanced.


    "I don''t think I do. Explain it to me." He made another step forward and Lithoniel another step back.


    "I-Idon''t think this is...the right moment. It''s late and we have a long journey..." Her voice trembled and once again she stepped back only to bump into something with her foot. She looked back and saw there was a tent behind her. She had nowhere to go.


    "All the more reason to explain quickly. Can you do that?" He said and she turned.


    She opened her eyes wide as she saw that Rolim was just a few inches away, his deep brown eyes like braziers as he stared at her.


    "M-maybe?" She was so confused it became a question. He was so close that she could feel his hot breath tingling on her forehead.


    "Maybe?" He repeated, clearly amused.


    "Yes. No...I don''t know" She babbled, her eyes fixed on Rolim''s full lips.


    "Yes? No? Which is it?"


    "No." She repeated, her voice firmer...until she saw the look on his face and turned to run like a rabbit. That''s when Rolim first grabbed her wrist, forcing her to stay where she was, and then lifted her chin until she had no choice but to look at him.


    "You know I like hunting, Lithoniel." He whispered in her ear, his husky voice sending a shiver through her body. "But it''s about time you stop running."


    "I''m not run..." She started to protest when he nibbled lightly her earlobe, an area he seemed to like a lot, before kissing her neck.


    Lithoniel froze. She tried to escape but she was pressed against the tent by Rolim''s hard and heavy body. She stifled a moan when he claimed her lips as they belonged to him and he was just lending them to her momentarily.


    The kiss didn''t last long, but when he pulled off her mind was completely blank.


    "Don''t worry about Tinesia." He said, gently stroking her chin with his thumb. "She was just trying to break us apart."


    "I know, but Kolvar..."


    "He''ll come around. He just needs time. Trust me, alright?"


    Lithoniel nodded her head obediently.


    Rolim grinned. "Maybe I should do this more often."


    "Rolim" Lithoniel scolded, half laughing, half pouting as she didn''t know how to deal with his new side of him. "Someone could have seen..." She started when Rolim kissed her again.


    If the first kiss was short and raw, the second was long and sweet. Rolim took his time exploring her mouth and Lithoniel let him like it was the most natural thing to do and they had done it one hundred of times before. When it was over Rolim looked at her fondly as he caressed her long hair.


    "Yes, I should definitely do it more often." His eyes were laughing but something told her he wasn''t joking.


    She was still absentminded when he started walking away, leaving Lithoniel staring at his back with her mouth wide open and one thought in her mind.


    It''s really true. The quiet ones are usually the most dangerous.

 Chapter 19 - Fire from the mountains 1

    Lithoniel


    There was a reason if the tribes were divided, separated by hundreds of leagues. And that reason was just one: food. The Embersea was a strange and harsh land, bigger than the human realm in the south, but almost completely depopulated. Since the soil was barren, scorched and dead, nothing grew there.


    Which meant the only way to find food was through hunting. However, the animals who lived here weren''t deer or boars. They were no prey, but predators, monsters like the Zaruk. Granted, they usually were much smaller and weaker than the tyrant of the Embersea, but the principle was the same. Maybe it was a natural evolution after the Cataclysm completely changed the landscape and destroyed the habitat of most native animals, but all the beasts that lived in the Embersea had something in common; they were incredibly dangerous and never left the mountains.


    Over the years, the elves created countless tactics to deal with the monsters and yet, their numbers kept shrinking and every year there were fewer of them. Under Naevys'' leadership, their tribe survived and even thrived, but many clans completely disappeared, absorbed by other stronger tribes, or wiped out by someone much worse than monsters like the Zaruk, the rivers of fire or the harsh winters. The humans.


    "Maybe they are raiding them. That''s why the West ridge tribes are migrating." Kolvar suggested. "Maybe the humans intend to sell them in the markets of the eastern continent."


    It was the middle of the morning, a couple of hours after they''d left the tribe.


    "I don''t think so." Rolim denied. "That''s not one of their usual routes."


    Lithoniel nodded, "The west ridge is too far from the big bridge of stone, what the humans call the Brimgate."


    "Maybe they came by sea." Kolvar insisted.


    "You really should have paid more attention to what the Loremaster explained during her lessons." Rolim chided, and Kolvar frowned.


    That frown soon became a full-blown scowl.


    "They call it frozen sea for a reason. It..."


    "...is not navigable, especially when we are so close to winter." Lithoniel said, finishing his sentence so naturally, they seemed like an old married couple.


    "What?" She asked seeing Kolvar had a strange expression on his face; it looked a lot like anger mixed with a bit of resignation like he gave up on something.


    "Since when do you finish each other''s sentences?" He asked with bitterness before rushing ahead and leaving the two of them behind.


    "Kolvar..." She started to call him, but Rolim grabbed her arm and shook his head.


    "Leave him alone. He has to blow off some steam."


    "Please, go after him." She said. It was the first day, and they were still in the middle of nowhere, but the plains weren''t safe as they used to be. "It''ll be getting dark soon."


    Rolim sighed before giving her a stiff nod. "Fine, I''ll keep an eye on him."


    Most of the trip continued along the same lines. Rolim or Lithoniel would say or do something to set him off, though most of the time they didn''t even realize it, and Kolvar would run off. It was the morning of the second day when Lithoniel decided they had to deal with the situation.


    "Maybe we should take a step back. You know...give him some time to get used to the idea."


    Rolim, however, wasn''t on the same page. "And why should we do that?"


    "Rolim...you know we hurt him."


    "No, Lithoniel, we didn''t, and denying the truth won''t solve anything. My brother has to learn he can''t throw a tantrum when he doesn''t get his own way."


    "We are his family..."


    "Exactly, and it''s our fault if he is like that. We cuddled him too much."


    "Maybe you''re right, but we have we can''t afford this rift to grow even larger and become something worse. Not now. If we..."


    "No, Lithoniel. Don''t even try. I can''t do what you ask."


    "Can''t or won''t?" She asked and when he didn''t answer she continued. "At least don''t rub his nose in our happiness." Lithoniel said with frustration.


    Since the day that night, there had been a drastic change in their relationship. They had been quite cautious, at the beginning at least. But as time went on Rolime became so aggressive he didn''t miss any chance to spend some quality time with her.


    "You have to stop. Your brother is not an idiot, Rolim. If you keep doing it..."


    "Doing what, Lithoniel?" He teased.


    She gave him a dirty look. "You know what I mean."


    "Do I? I don''t think so. Why don''t refresh my memory?"


    "Rolim, I''m serious." She insisted.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    He took a step back, his expression sobering, "So am I. think you won''t achieve anything if we do it your way."


    "Maybe not, but at least we can try." She pleaded. "Please? Just for a day or two."


    His jaw twinged. "Fine, but don''t get your hopes up. This won''t solve anything."


    Rolim was a good judge of character, and but he was wrong this time. Kolvar''s behavior started to change as soon as they distanced themselves a bit. On the other hand, Rolim was angry now. She didn''t like it, but it seemed a fair trade to her. At least she didn''t have to worry about Kolvar anymore. However, the fragile peace they''d gained didn''t last long. It was the morning of the third day after they had left the tribe when they saw it.


    The sky.


    It''s the middle of the morning, but it was dark, pitch black like during nighttime. In the Embersea the skies were usually gray, but those clouds were black, thick and grim.


    And not just that...


    Lithoniel could feel that smell of rotten eggs hitting her nostrils as they grew closer to the mountains. It was like a punch in the guts. It was strong, much stronger than usual.


    It''s almost like we are on the Asp''s ridge. No...it''s even stronger than that. Wait a second...the cloud and that smell...


    And then it dawned on her.


    A volcano! It was the only explanation. But how is this possible? We are still miles away from the West Ridge.


    "What''s going on?" In the meanwhile, Kolvar was asking Rolim.


    "Fire, fire from the mountains." Rolim answered, his tone a bit solemn.


    But if the oldest brother was calm, the youngest one was the exact opposite.


    "We are still too far away." He said a bit too quickly, his voice shrill and his eyes big and scared.


    "Rolim is right. It''s a volcano." Lithoniel confirmed.


    "What we do now?" Kolvar asked, his voice no more than a whisper.


    "We keep going." She answered, but Rolim didn''t agree with her this time.


    "We have to keep our strength, Lithoniel. I don''t think a forced march is a good idea."


    "If what I think is true, we have no time to waste."


    Rolim didn''t rebut this time. It was late in the afternoon when they reached the West Ridge. Lithoniel thought she was prepared, she thought she knew what was going on, but what she saw exceeded all her expectations.


    The entire land in front of them seemed on fire, the mountains like a red boiling tide.


    "W-What...is this?"


    It was Kolvar. He was completely terrified.


    "A nightmare" Rolim said, his face grim.


    Lithoniel agreed with him. She had never seen anything like that. In the Embersea vulcanoes were everywhere, but even in the Asp Ridge, a mountain range way larger than the West Ridge, there weren''t more than two or three of them active at the same time.


    But here...it''s like there are ten or more volcanoes spitting fire at full power.


    "Lithoniel, what do you want to do?"Rolim asked.


    She frowned. "What do you mean?"


    "Do you want to continue?" It was a question, but from his tone, Lithoniel understood what he thought about it.


    "Of course."


    "Don''t tell me you want to go there?" Kolvar interjected. "It'' an inferno down there!" He was starting to sound a bit hysterical.


    "We have to..."


    "We can''t go that way, Lithoniel" Rolim interrupted her.


    "He is right, Lithoniel." Kolvar reinforced the message. "Besides, now we already know something is really happening here. Something big. Why don''t we go back and relay what we discovered to the Loremaster?"


    Lithoniel shook her head. "It''s not enough."


    "Are you joking? This," He said pointing at the red tide. "Is not enough?!"


    "It''s just a theory. We have no proof, Kolvar. We found no tracks and..."


    "It''s a waste of time! You know the duststorms wiped them clean!"


    "Yes, and that''s why I need to see it with my own eyes. There has to be some proof of their activities if they are preparing to attack us."


    "But so far we found nothing."


    "Right. But if..."


    "No, Lithoniel." Rolim said, his tone firm. "I indulged you so far, but what you want to do is not being brave, it''s suicide."


    "Listen to him, Lithoniel." Kolvar said.


    Lithoniel ignored him. "So what do you suggest?" She asked Rolim. "Do you want to go back? And then what?"


    Rolim furrowed his brow.


    "I''m doing this because I think is the best course of action for the tribe. Every life is important, but even if by some strange stroke of luck, we manage to find our people and apprehend their scouts, it''ll be all useless if the West Ridge''s tribe attack us."


    "I''m sorry to say this Lithoniel." Kolvar said. He seemed a bit calmer. "But I''m not sure about your invasion''s theory."


    "You don''t believe me" She said, a bit shocked. Maybe it was because Kolvar had always been on her side, but she was a bit hurt he didn''t trust her anymore.


    Kolvar looked conflicted. "Lithoniel, I believe in what I can see. So far we didn''t find any tracks or indications..."


    "You just said the dust storms wiped them clean." She reminded him.


    "Yes, and...maybe they did. Or maybe...there were none to begin with."


    "Kolvar, I understand if you don''t trust me anymore. I really do, but I''m right this time."


    Kolvar opened his eyes wide. "Lithoniel! I never said that..."


    "It''s fine, Kolvar, really. I don''t ask you to trust me, I understand if you don''t. I just want you to be objective. If what you said is true and those responsible for the missing people are just stragglers, why did they start kidnapping our people?"


    "I..."


    "I think she is right. Kolvar, use your head, not your heart." Rolim interjected. "That goes for you too, Lithoniel. What kind of traces do you expect to find in that hellhole?"


    "I...d-don''t know. But we have to keep trying."


    "Throwing our lives away won''t help." Rolim scolded.


    "So, what do you suggest?" She asked.


    "We know that they came from here, but I really doubt the rest of their tribe is still inside the mountain range, don''t you think?"


    Lithoniel slowly nodded, "Right."


    "An entire tribe moving leave tracks behind, Lithoniel. They''ll have children and old people, hundreds if not thousands of tents. If you''re right and they want to attack us, they won''t be far from here. You can be sure of it."


    "So you mean..."


    "I mean they are still in the area. We came from the north, and we didn''t find them. But if we go south, circling around the West Ridge''s border..."


    "We may find them."


    "Yes."


    "I don''t mean to burst your bubble, but we already lost three days to come here, and we barely slept." Kolvar sounded annoyed. "We''ll need at least two days to complete the trip you are suggesting. Do you understand what I''m saying?"


    Lithoniel gave him a stiff nod. "You''re saying this is our last chance to go back."


    "There is still time, Lithoniel." He tried to persuade her. "We can find proof of..."


    "Don''t try to convince her, little brother. It''s useless, she has already decided."


    "Kolvar, you can turn back if you want. I am sure that if you talk with the Loremaster..."


    "I never said that Lithoniel. Do you want to continue? Fine, but don''t think you can leave me behind. It won''t work, not this time." He said, and without further ado, he started walking again soon disappearing into the darkness.


    "Stubborn." Lithoniel muttered, shaking her head.


    She heard a strange sound and turned to look a Rolim just to discover he was laughing at her.


    She glared at him." What are you laughing at?"


    "Nothing." He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "It''s just funny to hear you, of all people, saying he is stubborn."


    Lithoniel narrowed her eyes. "Are you saying I''m stubborn?"


    "Far be it from me, Nighstalker''s successor" He said with a bow, but he was grinning. "Now, if you''ll excuse me" He continued, his tone playful. "I''d better see if I can find my brother."


    Lithoniel looked at his retreating back and despite everything, she smiled. That until she looked up, and saw the magma coming out the vulcanoes. It was no threat to them. However, it was a rare spectacle, beautiful and terrifying, no doubt about that.

 Chapter 20 - Fire from the mountains 2

    Lithoniel


    It turned out Rolim was right. Not that Lithoniel had ever doubted him. His analysis seemed reasonable, and probably she would have reached the same conclusion if she wasn''t so busy trying to prove her theory was right.


    As soon as they started going south, keeping the mountains on their right as they advanced on the Ash Marshes- a plagued plain extending for hundreds of leagues from the hill of the Great Penumbra to the mouth of the Brimstone''s river - they finally found out what they''d searched for so long. Tracks. A lot of them.


    Lithoniel and Rolim exchanged a glance.


    "Don''t make any noise from now on." She whispered to Kolvar.


    Kolvar nodded, but his throat made a wet sound as he swallowed. Lithoniel pretended not to hear as she squatted, moving unseen through the plain as only an elf could. Rolim and Kolvar followed her example, but they didn''t have to do that for long. At some point, the footprints split up, as one set of tracks headed east, deeper inside the Ash Marshes and toward the mountains of the new Peaks.


    Lithoniel and the brothers kept going south until they had to turn right and go west to follow the trail. They were coming closer and closer to those raging volcanos when they saw something completely out of place. There was a black wall, new and roughly built, standing on the gray plains. It wasn''t that far from the West Ridge but placed at a safe distance from that river of lava running down the mountains.


    From where they were standing - a small hill maybe a mile away from the wall - they could see the smoke of the campfires mixing with the vapors rising from the mountains. It was what they were looking for, but there was a problem.


    "The size. There are way too many tents." Lithoniel muttered under her breath.


    She couldn''t say how many exactly - she had to get closer for that - but the camp was huge, several times bigger than she''d expected.


    There have to be thousands of them, maybe even tens of thousands.


    "No tribe is that big." She said quietly.


    "It''s not a single tribe." Rolim whispered. "Look at the way the tents are positioned."


    Lithoniel squinted her eyes noticing Rolim was right. The tents weren''t evenly distributed throughout the encampment but divided into six different groups. Besides, there was a big empty space in the middle of it. Lithoniel had a pretty good idea why no one set camp there.


    "You''re right." Lithoniel agreed with him. "And that''s why there are no tents in the middle. They probably bickered about it, as every tribe wanted to set camp there."


    "I didn''t see that." Rolim furrowed his brow, a bit surprised. "But it makes sense. That''s a position of dominance."


    "Which means those tribes are still divided." Lithoniel continued. "This must be pretty new. Probably they joined together when the volcanos erupted."


    "An alliance of convenience to..."


    "...take our territory."


    They looked at each other and nodded.


    "You''re doing it again" Kolvar grumbled, and despite everything, Lithoniel smiled.


    That smile soon faded away when she realized what this meant for their tribe. They were completely outnumbered.


    "Can we go now?" Kolvar asked, desperate to get out of there as soon as possible.


    Lithoniel took a deep breath and nodded.


    "Yes, let''s go ho..." She was saying when she heard someone walking behind them.


    No, not walking but...trotting? But when she turned around what she found was no horse, but something much bigger. She had never seen something like this before, a beast she could only describe as a very big lizard. It wasn''t very tall, maybe even less than five feet, but it was at least twelve feet long, and even its hooked tail wasn''t much shorter. Its thick black skin was red-streaked and reinforced by armored scales, its tongue thin but forked and long, maybe even longer than Lithoniel''s arm.


    "Is it...a dragon?" Kolvar asked, hiding behind a rock like he was terrified it may able to see him.


    "A dragon is much bigger than that." Rolim whispered, his voice calm and steady. "Besides, it has no wings."


    "Rolim, do you know what is it?" Lithoniel asked, but she kept staring at the beast.


    Rolim frowned. "I heard tales, but I never saw one before. However, it should be a...salamander."


    "A salamander?" She repeated, a bit curious. She had seen and hunted a lot of animals over the years, but she had never heard of such a beast.


    "Salamanders are native of these plains, but it''s strange to find one here." He frowned. "As far as I know, they are very territorial. They live underground, in those old tunnels running deep beneath the Marshes."


    "The muddyfire tunnels?" She asked, and when Rolim nodded, she added, "That''s why I never saw one before."


    "No one did. Not in our tribe at least. It was an old hunter who lives in a tribe close to the Brimstone who told me about it. "


    "So, what is it doing here?" Kolvar asked, but no one answered him.


    The three of them kept staring at the salamander. If what Rolim said was true, the beast''s territory was far from here. Besides, since the salamander came, it didn''t move at all. From time to time it looked back, its forked tongue darting out of its mouth as a long hiss came out of its throat.


    "It''s almost like it''s...waiting for something?"


    Lithoniel didn''t have long to wonder. They first heard it, a noise, loud and continuous. Then they saw it, a big shadow popping over the horizon. It was another Salamander, maybe even bigger than the first one, its skin of a deeper red, almost burgundy. But it was what lay beyond it that made her scalp go numb.


    The salamander was pulling some sort of carriage, a thick rope tied around its body as it scampered on the hillside. However, the ones on the chart weren''t passengers but prisoners. It was a cage, and the sound they had heard before was the noise made by the carriage''s wheels running on the marshes'' rocky soil. Even if they were still far, Lithoniel could already vaguely recognize them.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    They are our people.


    She wasn''t the only one who realized that. She heard Kolvar taking a sharp intake of breath and Rolim squinting his eyes, his hand touching the handle of his knife.


    When the two beasts were close enough, the smaller salamander hissed and the one pulling the cart responded with a deep roar. That''s when Lithoniel saw there was someone else. They were so small compared to the salamanders, she almost didn''t notice them.


    Hunters. Maybe a dozen of them.


    Lithoniel saw one of them, an elf a bit shorter than the average, coming forward to pat the head of the smaller salamander. It was an odd gesture, but the beast''s reaction was even weirder; it tilted its head before lowering it, allowing the elf to pat it.


    "That''s the third time it runs off, Beastmaster." Another elf, taller than the first one, said.


    Beastmaster? It sounded a lot like a title, one she had never heard before.


    Lithoniel could tell both hunters were men, but that''s all. It was impossible to distinguish their features as they wore cloaks and scarves to protect themselves from the dust storms.


    "I already tried to tell you, but you didn''t listen to me. You really shouldn''t have brought a female. The big one" The Beastmaster said, pointing to the salamander pulling the chart. "is a male and we are in the middle of the mating season."


    "Are you telling me..." The taller elf sounded surprised.


    "That was a mating ritual." The Beastmaster concluded. "Right, that''s exactly what I''m trying to say. She," He said looking at the smaller salamander. "ran off because she expected the big guy to chase after her and..." He paused like he didn''t know how to explain it. "...conquer her."


    "Why didn''t you tell me before?!" The second elf sounded outraged.


    "I don''t tell you how to do your job, Nighstalker." The Beastmaster mocked. "I hope that you''ll extend the same courtesy to me from now on."


    Rolim and Lithoniel exchanged a glance when they heard he was the Nighstalker.


    "You made your point, Beastmaster. Now please calm them down."


    The two salamanders, especially the big one, were getting nervous.


    The Beastmaster sighed. "I''ll do what I can, but don''t expect miracles."


    Apparently, the task was way too hard. The instincts of the two salamanders clashed as one wanted to run and the other to chase. As soon as the Beastmaster tied the rope around the female''s body and tried to lead her back to the chart, she refused to move. The Beastmaster tried to pull the rope, but without avail.


    "It''s better if I go first with the female." The Beastmaster said to the Nighstalker. "We''re close anyway and that big fella can pull the chart alone."


    "Fine" It was the Nighstalker''s curt reply.


    The Beastmaster didn''t seem to care if the Nighstalker agreed or not. He got up on the female salamander as if he had done it a hundred times, and rode it until elf and beast disappeared from sight.


    Lithoniel was shocked. The Salamander was fast on the plains, maybe even faster than a horse. The carriage, on the other hand, moved slowly. It took some time until the convoy reached the position where Lithoniel and the others were hiding. When it was just below them, at the bottom of the hill, Lithoniel gripped the hilt of her sword.


    "What do you want to do?" Rolim hissed to her, his hand grabbing her forearm.


    "We can take care of them. If we ambush them..."


    "Don''t even think about it," Rolim warned, his voice growing rougher. "That salamander can breathe fire, and its skin is hard like chain mail. Even if you take down those guards, the beast will tear us apart."


    Lithoniel tightened her lips. "If those prisoners go inside those walls, it''s over for them."


    "If we attack them it''s over for us." He rebutted.


    Lithoniel opened her mouth to reply but Rolim preceded her.


    "Think, Lithoniel. If we are dead, who''s going to tell the Loremaster what we''ve seen?"


    Lithoniel took a deep breath.


    "I know but..." She shook her head. "I can''t leave them. I just can''t, Rolim."


    But Rolim was relentless. "You have to. At least for now. Besides, are you ready to kill them, Lithoniel?"


    Lithoniel''s mouth snapped shut.


    "Lithoniel, you were ready to sacrifice your life for the tribe. I bet they are no different." He said, pointing to the chart. It was slowly heading to the palisade''s gate. They could still reach it if they hurried. "I know you want to save them, but you can''t save anyone if you''re dead."


    Lithoniel looked at her companions before biting her lips. Kolvar looked worried and scared while Rolim was staring at her with such intensity she could barely meet his gaze. He looked grim but determined like he was ready to pick her up and carry her away by force if necessary.


    "Alright" She surrendered and Kolvar sighed with relief.


    "I''m not leaving them." She hastened to add. "This is just a strategic retreat."


    Rolim''s expression finally softened a little.


    "I never believed you would. Besides," Rolim smiled at her. "We still have a chance to free them, don''t we?"


    "We do." She was still a bit shocked but managed to nod. Then both she and Rolim turned to look at the encampment.


    "Don''t tell me you want to sneak inside?" Kolvar asked, following their gazes. He sounded alarmed.


    "We can make it." She assured him. "We just need to wait until night and..."


    "Lithoniel, that''s insane!" He hissed.


    "Kolvar, I have to help them" She said, her voice soft but resolute.


    "You can''t." Kolvar insisted. "You know the law. We shouldn''t risk our lives to save..."


    "It''s a custom, Kolvar." Lithoniel specified. "Not a law."


    Kolvar shrugged like it was the same for him.


    "Be as it may. You know that we have to leave them. Even if the tribe wasn''t in danger, and the information in our possession wasn''t so important, we still shouldn''t save them." He said and Lithoniel clenched her fists, all her muscles tensing as she tried to rein in her anger.


    "They got caught." He continued without a shred of empathy like he didn''t care if they lived or died. "They are weak and stupid. We should just leave them to their desti..." He said, and Lithoniel couldn''t take it anymore.


    "I won''t leave them!" She snapped. "Do you understand, Kolvar?! I won''t!" She yelled.


    Luckily no one was around, not that Lithoniel cared at the moment.


    "They got caught" Kolvar repeated like he wanted to justify himself.


    "Maybe so, but this doesn''t give you permission to treat them like trash!" She exploded, her voice bitter and filled with so much anger and resentment she looked like a completely different person.


    Rolim looked surprised, but Kolvar was worse. He looked utterly dismayed, his mouth hanging open like he couldn''t recognize her.


    "I''m sorry, Kolvar." Lithoniel apologized to him when realized what she had done. "But my answer won''t change. I won''t leave them." She sounded calmer, more rational, but her voice didn''t waver.


    Kolvar shook his head. "Lithoniel, I know you''re brave, but there is a fine line between bravery and stupidity. You are not a God, you can''t save everyone. And that nobility of yours is not a virtue." He said and though he was trying to hide it, she could feel the contempt in his voice. "It''s a weakness."


    After that, he turned his back on them and started walking away.


    "Kolvar!" Rolim called, but his brother didn''t stop.


    "Let him go. He said nothing wrong." She whispered.


    "Lithoniel..." He said, evidently worried as he stared at her.


    Lithoniel looked paler, frail and vulnerable now that her anger was gone. It seemed that Kolvar''s words hurt her more than expected.


    "Maybe he and the Loremaster are right." She said looking down, her fingers closing around the hilt of her sword. "Maybe I''m weak, and that''s why Teacher refused to see me."


    "You know that''s not the true, Lithoniel. You told me, didn''t you? You know why the Loremaster refused to see you."


    Lithoniel nodded, but she looked distracted, lacking conviction.


    "Listen to me, Lithoniel." He said, forcing her to look at him. "You''re not weak and you don''t have to rescue those people just because you think you have something to prove. Because you haven''t. You have nothing to prove, Lithoniel."


    When she heard him, Lithoniel opened her eyes wide, trying to look away and hide from him, but Rolim didn''t let her. He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed so hard she knew he would leave some bruises. She winced but even then he didn''t loosen his grip.


    "You have nothing to prove." He repeated, his voice growing stronger. "Not to that idiot of my brother, or Elwin, the Loremaster, and for sure you''ve nothing to prove to our people. You know them, they are spineless sheep at the best of times."


    "I..." She tried to say something, but she could do nothing except stay there and stare at him.


    "You owe them nothing." He repeated. "Nothing, Lithoniel. Do you understand me?"


    She looked at his face and opened her eyes wide when she realized he was serious. He wasn''t just lying to cheer her up but actually believed in what he was saying.


    "Do you understand?" He asked again and she nodded with more conviction this time.


    "Good. Now, let''s go find that idiot of my brother. Then, we''ll go rescue our people." He squinted his eyes. "Unless you are still planning to act like an idiot and do everything by yourself?"


    "Never dreamed of it." She said, smiling innocently.


    Rolim narrowed his eyes.


    "So long as you understand that." He said and when he went back to look for his brother she followed him.


    She was about to embark on another suicide mission, but she wasn''t scared. Not anymore.

 Chapter 21 - Fire from the mountains 3

    Lithoniel


    It didn''t take long before they found Kolvar. To begin with, he hadn''t gone far, and he was clearly waiting for them. He looked anxious when he saw them. He was fidgeting, his eyes darting between her and Rolim, his posture a bit hunched like he was ashamed of himself.


    "I''ll leave you two alone." Rolim said when none of them said a word.


    The silence lasted for more than a few moments. Then Kolvar took a deep breath like he was mustering the courage to speak.


    "I''m sorry. I shouldn''t have said..."


    "You don''t have to apologize, Kolvar. It doesn''t matter now."


    "Of course it matters! We have to solve the misunderstanding!"


    "Kolvar, I don''t think it''s a misunderstanding. The way you think it''s simply the way the whole tribe thinks. I can''t fault you for that." She felt oddly tranquil as she said it.


    "Lithoniel, I don''t care about custom and traditions." He denied, understanding the underlying meaning behind her words. "You know I never cared about the circumstances of your birth."


    Lithoniel tightened her lips but said nothing.


    " I was just..." He rubbed the nape of his neck. "...frustrated. You and Rolim..."


    "I''m sorry." She answered automatically, though she was starting to wonder why she was apologizing in the first place.


    "That''s not the only reason. This mission..." Not that again.


    She let out a tired sigh. "I can''t leave them, Kolvar." She said for the umpteenth time.


    "Why? They never did anything for you. And if you''re worried about your trial, going back is much more important..."


    "It''s not for that." She cut him short.


    "Then, what? You said we shouldn''t look for them. Besides, you know they could attack at any moment. Otherwise, you wouldn''t ask Fennan to reinforce our defenses."


    "I said I shouldn''t look for them, but now that I found them, I can''t just abandon..." She trailed off, shock sweeping through her. "Wait a second. Defenses?" She said, her grey-purple eyes peering at him. "How do you know what I said to Fennan?"


    Kolvar''s eyes widened, the expression on his face changing as surprise quickly turned into alarm, and then fear.


    "What are you hiding, Kolvar?"If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    However, Kolvar bowed his head and refused to meet her gaze, which made her only more suspicious.


    "Answer me." She demanded.


    "I...may have followed you." He admitted eventually.


    "Follow me?" She asked in disbelief. "Why? We weren''t talking at the time, so why did you follow me?"


    "I-I..." He stuttered. He kept wringing his hand, avoiding her gaze.


    "Wait," She narrowed her eyes, a disturbing thought coming into her mind out of nowhere. "that was the first time, right?"


    But Kolvar kept staring at his feet.


    "Right, Kolvar?" She insisted.


    "It wasn''t...it wasn''t the first time."


    Lithoniel froze, staring at him with wide eyes.


    "It started years ago when Naeran harassed you the first time." He continued. "I wanted to make sure he didn''t make trouble for you so I..."


    "You started following me." She said. "But Naeran stopped doing that years ago."


    "Yes, you grew up, became strong." He sounded wistful. "You didn''t need my protection anymore."


    "So, why didn''t you stop?" She whispered.


    Something flickered in his gaze.


    "It was already a habit. I-I couldn''t stop myself. Every night I had to make sure...you were safe."


    Lithoniel couldn''t believe what she was hearing. "You sneaked in my tent? When I was asleep?!"


    "Lithoniel...I..."


    "No, stop!" She said, shutting her eyes and starting to massage her temples.


    She was fuming, but she couldn''t deal with this. Not now.


    "Let''s...let''s just pretend this conversation never happened. Alright?"


    Kolvar eagerly nodded like a happy puppy, his childish face brightening. However, she didn''t let this fool her. Not this time.


    "You won''t do it again, right?" She asked. She had to make sure of it. Lithoniel couldn''t even think about Kolvar spying on her when she and Rolim were...


    She shivered. "You won''t, right?"


    "I won''t" He swore, and Lithoniel sighed with relief.


    How did he do it without me noticing? She couldn''t help but wonder. I could understand if it was Rolim, but Kolvar...


    She was still thinking about it when Kolvar cleared his throat.


    "About the rescue mission...do you really have to do it?" He asked.


    Lithoniel stared at him, trying to look at him the same way as before, but she couldn''t.


    "I have to. I thought a lot about it, Kolvar, and I know you are right. I know I shouldn''t try to help them and I know that even if I succeed no one will thank me, maybe not even the people that I''m about to rescue."


    "Then, why? Why are you doing this?" He asked, his voice full of wonder.


    "If I leave them now, how am I any different from those people who hated me for most of my life?"


    Kolvar opened his mouth wide.


    "Rolim said that I shouldn''t do it just because I think I have something to prove." She smiled sadly. "He was right. I used to think that way, but not anymore. I''m not doing this because I have something to prove to them, but for myself, because I think it''s the right thing to do."


    Kolvar pressed his lips together and frowned.


    "Don''t worry, Kolvar. I won''t force you to join the mission." She said, well aware he didn''t think the same way.


    "Lithoniel I thought you forgive me." He looked distressed.


    "And I do." She said, but she looked wary. "But we need a lookout. Besides, someone needs to stay behind."


    "Stay behind?"


    "In case we fail."


    "Lithoniel, now, wait a minute..."


    "Kolvar, the Loremaster must know what we saw here."


    "But why me?" He argued. "Rolim is stronger than me..."


    "Rolim is the strongest among us." She agreed with him. "but he is also the slowest. You''re much faster than him, and you have more chances to make it back than any of us."


    "That can be true, but..." He started arguing, but she couldn''t indulge him this time.


    "Sorry, Kolvar. I didn''t take this choice lightly. This is the best option." She said firmly. "We''ve been away for too long. Let''s get back to Rolim." She said and started walking soon followed by Kolvar.


    However, she turned back to look at him from time to time, for the first time wondering if the small elf was really the simple and innocent person she''d always believed him to be.

 Interlude

    "This is the third village, ser Curster. Are you sure this is the right one?" Tharfinn asked.


    Ser Curster shook his head. "No. But it''s the last. These three villages were the only ones he could reach without a horse." The knight said trying to sound more confident than he actually was.


    "I don''t have to tell you what would happen if that man talks with the wrong person." Tharfinn warned.


    Ser Custer nodded, but he looked hesitant, unable to hide the uneasiness on his face. "My lord, you shouldn''t expose yourself this way. Sickle''s cutthroats will find him. Maybe they already did. And bringing Marton..."


    "Marton won''t be a problem" Tharfinn interrupted him. "And I am the only one who has seen his face. I have to be here."


    "But the villagers are already on the brink of rebelling and we don''t even know if the blacksmith saw..." Hetrailed off when Tharfinn glared at him.


    "I''m sorry, my lord." Curster bowed.


    Tharfinn shook his head. It wasn''t Curster''s fault, but he had to find him. He had no other choice.


    "What about our men in the capital? Any problem with the seal?" Tharfinn asked.


    "No, my lord. The wax you provided will do just fine. They''ll need months to discover what we have done."


    Tharfinn nodded.


    At least, something goes right.


    Marton came shortly afterward, his face grim and his lips tights like he didn''t like what he was seeing. "We should head back lord Tharfinn." Marton said as the sun slowly began to go down. "Your lord father will send his soldiers to deal with this mob."


    "Don''t tell me these peasants frighten you, master of the ax?" Ser Curster asked


    Marton didn''t take the bait; he was a veteran of countless battles with many copper and silver rings at his fingers, proof of his courage and valor in battle. He had no intention of quarreling with an eighteen-something pup whose biggest achievement was to conquer some brothel''s whore.


    "We are but five, Curster." Marton replied. "And even peasants can be dangerous in the Wildlands."


    Ser Curster frowned when Marton omitted the "ser", but that frown turned into a smirk when he heard the rest,"Dangerous?" Ser Cursterscoffed. "Are you unmanned by some farmboys, Master of the ax?"


    This wasn''t the first time that Ser Curster used Marton''s title to taunt him. The ax was a traditional weapon for the people of the Wildlands, a mountainous land where plains were rare and far between and horses were mostly used as pack animals instead of tools of war. That said, it wasn''t strange as the Wildlanders preferred to fight on foot and the sword, a knight''s weapon, wasn''t so widespread as it was in the south.However, the same thing couldn''t be said for southerners like Ser Curster that only saw the ax as a barbaric weapon or a tool to cut trees.


    From the tightness around the older man mouth and the barely suppressed anger in his eyes, Tharfinn knew it was time for him to step in.


    "Enough." Tharfinn said. "This is neither the time nor the place for this."


    Curster was a friend and Marton almost like a brother; Tharfinn didn''t want to see them fight.


    "Of course, my lord." Ser Curster said with a little bow while Marton just grunted.


    Tharfinn sighed. "Marton,I understand your concerns, but these peasants have to pay what''s due to their lord." Thandruil said. "Don''t worry. They won''t dare to attack the Highlord''s son." He said, before pulling the reins of his horse with a jerk.


    Custer''s gave Marton a smug smile, and quickly followed afterTharfinn.There were five men in the small columns of horses and riders. Tharfinn was a man in his early twenties with bright gold hairs, handsome though beardless unlike most of the Wildlanders. He looked regal, a man of an old lineage standing proud and tall on his horse.


    Curster the southerner, on the other hand, was quite average with his brown hairs, medium build, and decorated plate mail. He rode at Tharfinn''s side and was the only one not wearing chainmail. Marton and two riders followed in the back.


    It was already past sunset when they reached the village, a poor hamlet consisting of fifty hutsscattered along the slope of a barren hill.


    Ser Curster wrinkled his nose. "This place stinks."


    "What do you expect? Only thralls live here." Tharfinn replied, his eyes darting around the village. "Where are they by the way? This place looks deserted."


    That''s when they heard someone shouting.Tharfinn and Ser Curster exchanged a glance. Then they spurred their horses and followed the noise until they saw a small crowd - about thirty men gathered around the small square at the center of the village.


    They were banging their weapons - mostlyhatchets, sickles and other farm tools - on their shields as they advanced toward the soldiers standing in the middle of the circle. Those soldiers were obviously guards, and they were protecting a fat man, maybe a noble or merchant of some kind, richly dressed in embroidered breeches and a double-layer brocade jacket.


    "Don''t come any closer!" He shouted with all the authority he could master, but his face was pale, and a copious amount of sweat was trickling down his forehead.


    His shrill, scared voice just encouraged the mob. Theygot closer and closer just like a pack of wolves that caught the scent of human blood.


    "That''s Martin, the tax collector." Marton said with a grimace. "Probably this whole mess is his fault. He is well-known for asking more coin than necessary and keep the change for himself," He spat with disgust.


    "That''s not the point here." Ser Curster rebutted, not losing the chance to refute Marton''s words. "They raised weapons against the Highlord''s soldiers. This can''t go unpunished."


    Much to Martan''s dismay, Tharfinn''s nodded in agreement.


    "Halt!"He shouted, wildly riding his horse till he was only a couple of feet away from the back of the mob."I am Tharfinn Ahlstrom! Immediately break the encirclement and surrender!"


    The silence drew out between the villagers, tense like wire. Then they started whispering among themselves, exchanging worried glances as their eyes fell on the riders.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "It''s the lord''s son." A man said, his eyes wide with fear.


    "They''ll hang us." Another said in alarm.


    However, the mob quieted down when a huge man, carrying a big blacksmith''s hammer, came forward.


    "My lord." He bowed, but there was little respect in that gesture. He was a big man, in his early forties judging from his graying beard. He towered over the rest of the crowd, his sinewy arms like branches of some ancient oak tree.


    Tharfinn slightly nodded to Ser Curster. The signal was almost imperceptible, but the knight understood. They''d finally found him.


    "We meant no offense to the Highlord. However, what this scoundrel demanded." He said pointing to Martin that in the meantime seemed to regain part of his former color. "It''s folly!"


    "That''s right!" Someone said.


    "Kill the pig!" A woman shouted.


    "The harvest was bad this year." The blacksmith continued, his voice growing stronger, like his confidence hearing that the others supported him. "If we really give him what he demanded, how are we supposed to survive the winter? What are we, sheep to be skinned at the lord''s whim?!"The shouts of approval became even stronger, and some men started banging their weapons on their shields.


    "My lord maybe is better if we..." Marton began, but serCurster suddenly unsheathed his sword and spurred his horse, heading directly toward the blacksmith.


    "Impudent!" He screamed, trying to cut him down, but the blacksmith showed an inconceivable readiness for a man of his size and avoided the fatal blow rolling to his side.


    Curster hit the youth behind him instead, cleaving between neck and shoulder and almost splitting his head in half.For some seconds nobody moved while the youth slowly collapsed, blood spraying from the wound on his neck.


    Then someone shouted,"Murderers!"


    "Kill them!"


    Fomented by the blacksmith speech and their boldness fed by their superior numbers, the villagers attacked with abandon.However, Tharfinn and his men were well trained, better equipped and on horseback while the villagers had no armor or sword, just farming tools and some simple round shields.


    Tharfinn slashed downward, splitting an old man skull, while one of his soldiers was quickly surrounded by the crowd.His horse reared up when the sharp tip of a spear pierced its flank, unsaddling its rider who was quickly beaten and trampled to death.One of Martin''s man was killed by the blacksmith, his head crushed like iron on an anvil.


    The tax collector screamed like a pig before a slaughterhouse when he saw one of his men dying that way. He shook like a leaf, backing away.Then he tossed his sword aside, turned tail and ran away as fast as he could.


    "Marton!" Tharfinn shouted when he saw four villagers chasing after him, pointing at Martin with his bloodied sword. "Protect him!"


    Marton''s face darkened. Clearly, he would have liked to leave the man to his destiny, but he obeyed.Little by little, the tide of the skirmish shifted in Tharfinn''s favor, and from a close battle, itturned into a unilateral slaughter. Between the screams of the moribunds and the shouts of the soldiers, urging the peasants to surrender, the remaining villagers scattered like leaves.


    Only the blacksmith remained, standing proud as he faced the soldiers. Tharfinn charged at him but the older man was ready. He dodged the blow and even managed to strike back, hitting the head of Tharfinn''s horse with his hammer.


    More than half-ton between horse and rider collapsed on the ground, the animal skull cracking and deforming at the impact. Tharfinn stumbled to get up, but he was still groggy, a thin trail of blood flowing from the side of his head.


    The blacksmith raised the hammer to finish him off, but just when he was about to strike the fatal blow, Curster hit the back of his head with the hilt of his sword. However, a mere strike wasn''t enough to stop blacksmith, a man with the same size of a bear and probably almost the same weight. Custer was forced to hit him several times to put him down.


    When Tharfinn got up, he looked dazed, staring at the blacksmith lying motionless on the ground. His confusion, however, was short-lived, soon replaced by a burning rage.


    He raised his sword and pierced the defenseless man on the chest, plunging the blade till the hilt. Vanished without a trace was the appearance of a handsome lord. Now he just looked like a savage: his blonde hair disheveled, his teeth gritted and a look of madness on his face.


    "Kill them all." He croaked to his soldier after he pulled thesword out of the blacksmith''s wrecked chest.


    The last of Tharfinn''s minions, Ser Curster and the few remaining guards began to finish them off.Marton returned shortly afterward when the job was already done and all the villagers were dead. Martin was just behind him.


    "My lord." he said, kneeling at Tharfinn''s feet without a shred of dignity, the trim of his cloak dipping in the mud.


    Unexpectedly this action brought a smile on Tharfinn''s face. Marton, on the other hand, looked at him with disgust.


    "I''ll go help the others." He grunted before walking away.


    Tharfinnjust nodded at him. All his attention was focused on the tax collector.


    He let him kneel for a while longer and then said, "Rise."


    Martin sighed with relief, panting as he got up. "Thank you, your lordship."


    "Don''t thank me yet." Tharfinn warned, rubbing his chin contemplatively. "I still haven''t decided what to do with you."


    Martin stiffened. "Your lordship,I swear to you, this is not my fault. I was just doing my duty..."


    "Martin, Martin." Tharfinn put a hand on his shoulder. "Look at whatyou havedone." He said, pointing atbodies piled up in the village square.


    Martin fought the urge to throw up when he was forced to look at the gruesome spectacle.


    "I don''t know if what you''re saying is true, but a servant of the Highlord should prevent chaos, not create it." Tharfinn continued, shaking his head with disapproval.


    Martin''s eye went wide, his double chin trembling like jelly.


    "M-My lord" Martin stammered. "I was just doing my duty..." He repeated.


    "Your duty? Are you sure?" Tharfinn squeezed his shoulder, hard. "Or were you just filling your pockets?"


    Martin winced. "I..." He stuttered, a meaningless string of words coming out of his mouth.


    "You should admit your mistakes, don''t you think?" Tharfinn continued. "Especially when someone is offering you a way out."


    He gasped, "A way out? Are you saying the truth, my lord?"


    "Of course, Martin. I''m a man of my word. All will be forgiven..." Tharfinn smiled. "...as long as you pay the appropriate compensation."


    Martin seemed to shrink under his gaze."I...I will do it!"


    "Of course you will. You''ll give me all the coin you skimmed here, and from now on, I''ll get half of your future earnings. Are we clear?"


    "A-All? H-Half?" Martin almost shouted, repeating his words like a parrot.


    "Are we clear?" Tharfinnhissed.


    "Y-Yes my lord" Martin replied, lowering his head.


    "Good," Tharfinn''s nodded, evidently satisfied. "I will lend a couple of my men to you. After all, someone who betrayed the father might think about cheating the son too, don''t you think?"


    Martin opened and closed his mouth several times, looking more and more like a puffer fish.


    "But remember this, Martin." He pinched Martin''s chubby cheeks, his fingers leaving a trail of blood in their wake, "I am not my father."


    Martin paled even more if possible. "I-I will...I will not betray you, your lordship!"


    "Good. I''m glad we understand each other." Tharfinnpatted him on the shoulder before letting him go. "Oh, and Martin? We were never here."


    Martin''s eyes went round. "M-my lord...what if someone asks?"


    "You''ll say that bandits are responsible for this."


    Martin immediately agreed this time. After that, Tharfinn seemed to lose interest in him.


    "My lord, this is a good strategy." Ser Curstersaid. "But what about Marton?"


    "Don''t worry about him. Under the pretext of training the recruits, I will send him to Fyollum."


    "Will that be enough?" Ser Curster looked worried. "Even if you send him away, he will hear the rumors eventually."


    Tharfinn shrugged. "It''s hardto say. Marton is a loyal man, but at least nominally, my father is still his liege."


    Ser Curster furrowed his brow. "I''m sorry, my lord, but if you know this, why did you bring him here?"Tharfinn glared at him and Curster immediately bowed."Apologies, my lord, I overstepped."


    "No, you''re right." Tharfinngave him a dismissive wave of his hand. "Probably I shouldn''t havebrought him here." A shadow passed over his face. "Then again, the risk is quite low." He shrugged his shoulders. "Anyway, in a few months, none of this will matter."


    "Of course, my lord." Ser Curster said tactfully. "But what should we do about the villagers? I think a few of them escaped."


    "Send a rider to Fyollum. Sickle will deal with them."Tharfinn said as they walked toward the edge of the village.


    "I will send a message to him immediately." Ser Curstersaid.


    "Good. Do that." Tharfinn said while he mounted on a horse. "And while you''re at it, tell him to burn the village to the ground."


    Ser Curster opened his eyes wide. "The whole village?"


    "Of course." Tharfinn replied matter-of-factly. "The village, the mill, even the fields. Burn everything. Leave no one alive. After all, we can''t allow a few shit-eatingthralls to ruin my plan, can we?

 Chapter 23 - The coronation

    Ann


    There were times, admittedly only a few, when Ann Copperton wished to be born with a different name. Times when she craved a simpler life, devoid of all the complications and responsibilities that her position demanded. Other days she merely dreamed to live in another age, when there was a reason to carry those burdens. When the Copperton''s name still meant something, when she meant something.


    And this was one of those days.


    My aspect won''t change, no matter how many times I look.


    Ann thought, shaking her head at the image reflected in the mirror. She''d never considered herself as someone vain, and she didn''t usually spend so much time admiring herself either, but the person reflected in the mirror of that gold foil frame wasn''t someone she recognized. Someone she liked.


    She''d spent most of the morning trying to find a way to look less gaudy. She could do nothing about her dull red hair or the freckles on her pale face. She had learned to live with that, or at least to tolerate it, but that hand-embroidered long shirt was uncharted territory, something she would have gladly avoided. The high quality of the fabric was undisputed, but there were way too many laces, and even the amaranth and amber tapestry hanging at the walls appeared less excessive.


    However, if she still could bear the ceremonial clothes of her dynasty, the same thing couldn''t be said for the Rising Sun on her left shoulder even bigger than the bloodied rose on the back of her tunic. It might have sounded like something trivial, but it was a ploy, a scheme that carried the rotten stench of politics.


    Ann moistened her lips trying to drive away the persistent bitter taste in her mouth, though she was well aware the effort was as grueling as it was pointless. From the window of her room, she could see a city rising over the lush plain in the distance. Its boundary circumscribed by tall walls connected by five towers, each of them equidistant from the others and marking a different access to the city.


    Fivestar they called it, and the reason behind the name was as obvious as the shape of its walls. Ann could imagine the people crowding around the markets or the faithfuls going to the morning mass. But to her everything seemed so far, though it was less than a league away.


    There were reluctance and a bit of resignation on her face when she forced herself to look down, where a long parade extended on the cobbled road connecting the city to the castle. The noises of steps and horses, of metal and wooden carriages merged together in what seemed like an orderly cortege.


    But observing more deeply one could see a specific order inside the column of knights clad in shining armor and well-dressed ladies. A division marked by the flapping banners. Something she could exploit. Ann kept gazing at the parade below until the last carriage disappeared from her sight. That''s when someone knocked on the door.


    "Yes?" She asked though she knew why they had come.


    "It''s time, your Highness," A man said.


    Ann left the room accompanied by four guards wearing plate armor, full helm and bearing the same bloodied rose on their breastplates. When they took a hallway, the busy servants hurriedly shifted at the sides to let her through.


    They bowed with their heads and eyes down, rising only when Ann and her guards left the room. She''d always found the custom a little pretentious, no different from the lavishly decorated halls.


    Unbounded luxury was the precept permeating the castle: from the golden chandeliers hanging on the ceiling to the silver candelabrum inlaid with precious stones, the glass roses of the eastern continent or the mosaic floor. Perhaps, there had been a reason to justify this ostentation when the castle was built, but it felt just like another sign of decadence now, the reminder of glory and power long gone.


    When they grew near a colossal studded door, Ann steps became slower. They were heavy like her heart knowing what was waiting for her on the other side. The noise was muffled by wood and iron, but the clamor coming from the adjacent room was unmistakable. Ann took a deep breath before nodding to the guards. The hinges screeched when the four of them joined forces to pull the heavy door open.


    The room on the other side was a hall with a red velvet carpet at the center leading to a big and rough stone throne. The room was huge but empty, clearly built to accommodate a lot more people that were here today. At either side of the room, round stone columns sustained huge arches rising till the high-vaulted ceiling.


    Under each arch, a statue of white marble was placed. Only women were carved in the stones, all wearing the same five-pointed crown. There were hundreds of statues, one for each queen of the Copperton dynasty. The guests were all standing, and no chair or bench was arranged inside the massive hall. It wasn''t expected for them to sit, only the Queen had that privilege.


    When being the Queen was still worth something.


    "House Alhstrom, Avernus and Summermer only sent some envoys." A young lady said. "Minor nobles as representatives for a coronation, isn''tthis disrespectful for the new Queen?"


    There was a lot of noise inside the hall, magnified by the echo of two hundred people speaking with each other. Therefore, It wasn''t a surprise that only the last people at the back noticed Ann''s arrival.


    "What do you know, child? The Queen signs the papers, but the Highlords fill them." An older lady answered. "This ceremony is nothing but mere tradition."


    "Quiet" A man nearby curtly said sneaking a glance to the open door.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Gradually the people in the hall began to turn and an old man with a grey goatee and a multicolored tunic - more suited to a court jester than a noble - bowed. A page boy followed him. He played his brass trumpet and the people still on the velvet carpet cleared the way.


    "Princess Ann Copperton, Protector of the Faith and Humble servant of the Lord of the Morning" The man proclaimed in a high pitched, shrilling voice.


    The jarring sound echoed through the hall. It was even worse than the noise made by nails on a chalkboard and so annoying that some of the guests even winced and covered their ears. Ann gritted her teeth. If the Rising sun embroidered on her shoulder was the first scheme, this crier was the second.


    Is this my chamberlain? A buffoon as the Queen''s voice?


    This was becoming a pattern, a way to discredit her rule before it could even begin. If the objective was shaming her with half the nobles of the realm, it was a success. Ann straightened her back, raised her head and tried to keep a bearing befitting her position.


    The crowd quieted down, and now the eyes of every person inside the hall were on her. Her hands were damp with sweat as she walked, trying to not look at the people surrounding her.


    But as she got closer to the throne, she couldn''t help but gaze at the four bigger banners at the front. Only the standard bearers and some knights that Ann didn''t recognize were under the Scorpion of the Avernus, the Pegasus of the Summermere and the Oaktree and thunderbolt of the Alhstrom.


    They didn''t feel the need to come. They don''t have to. She thought bitterly.


    The only man of the four great houses to attend was Morris, third son of Mors Anchorvy, a stout man standing close to the Banner of the White Shark. And the reason was quite obvious: a fair woman with auburn hair standing at his side. Ann''s sister.


    Helena. When Ann gazed at her, her sister smiled back encouragingly. But there was something in her green eyes that she didn''t think to find.


    Helena looked worried. The knot in Ann''s stomach grew tighter. Her sister never worried. She was nineteen, barely a year younger than her, but she had always been the leader between the two of them. Headstrong and proud, there wasn''t a problem that Helena Copperton couldn''t solve.


    Ann kept gazing ahead, up to the stairs and that stone''s throne. There, a bald and fat man with a placid and jovial smile was waiting; his simple white gown embellished with silver and golden threads on the sleeve''s rim and neck.


    However, it was the pendant on his neck - entirely made of precious stones encrusted in a white golden framework - that attracted the attention. Obsidian from the Embersea was in the background depicting the night''s sky and several different stones with various shades of red and orange composed a Rising Sun.


    And this is the court chaplain.


    She slowed down, and he almost stopped walking entirely when she saw something she didn''t expect to find here; a big block of stone with a space carved in the upper side that seemed of the same dimension of a human''s skull.


    An executioner''s block.


    Three. The number resounded in her head like a death knell.


    The executioner''s block didn''t seem out of place, on the contrary, it fitted perfectly as it had always been there, part of an old tradition dating back to the days right after the cataclysm, dark times of intolerance when hunting witches was an everyday occurrence. That''s why one of her ancestors decided to remove it, centuries ago.


    The fact that was there once again could mean only one thing.


    I hope I am wrong.


    "Your Highness," The chaplain said, bowing slightly before turning to the crowd. "Lords and ladies of the realm. We are gathered here today for the coming of age and coronation of her Highness, Ann Copperton." He said, spreading his arms like he wanted to hug the crowd. "But before she can take her rightful place on the throne, an offering must be presented to the Almighty, the Lord of the Morning."


    Ann''s foreboding seemed to come true, and she was almost afraid to turn when the court chaplain dramatically pointed his finger somewhere behind her.


    Two guards were dragging a woman in shackles. She was young, no older than twenty years old, and quite pretty beneath the layer of dirt and the tattered dress she was wearing. But what attracted Ann''s attention were the guards. There was a deliberate slowness in the way they were moving.


    It almost seemed like..a parade, a well-devised show built for the benefit of the onlookers. The worst thing was that Ann knew the reason of this farce. It was a trap and a test at the same time, a way to restate the power of the Temple and its hegemony over the crown.


    Over me.


    And yet, even if she knew it was a trap, she had no choice but play along as the alternative was even worse.


    If I don''t do it, I''ll be labeled as craven or worse, faithless. But if I do, I will support the Temple. Either way, the Temple wins.


    When they arrived near the executioner''s block, the two guards placed the woman''s head on the hard stone. At that point, she was already sobbing quietly.


    "Cry as long as you want, you will find no one to hear your lies and no mercy for your wickedness here." The chaplain sternly said to her. "This harlot," He turned to the crowd, pointing one fat finger at the woman, "is guilty of the most heinous of crimes! Fornication and adultery!" His voice surged until he was shouting at the top of his lungs.


    There was no trace of his benevolent smile, his expression dangerously close to zealotry. The crowd cheered, though a few of them took the opportunity to rail against the woman.


    "Adulterer!"


    "Bitch!"


    "Kill the whore!"


    Well dressed ladies, scions of noble families, knights, and lords; all were screaming, all wanted her dead, to see her bleeding. The cr¨¨me de la cr¨¨me of the realm turned into a mindless mob.


    "Silence!" The chaplain said raising his hands. "This strumpet will get what she deserves." The chaplain said, dramatically pointing his finger at Ann. "And it will be our princess, Ann Copperton, to deliver justice in the name of the Lord of the Morning."


    When he finished speaking Ann was white as a sheet, her lips trembling uncontrollably. She clenched her shaky hands and turned away, giving her back to the crowd as she tried to get a hold of herself. But it was pointless. No matter what she did, it couldn''t change what was waiting for her. Ann closed her eyes, trying to think of what was happening as a dream, a fleeting nightmare that would end once she did as asked.


    "God of hunt and harvest, sea and rivers, Maker of everything that grows, Please receive our offering." She said, the words flowing out of her mouth like she had said them countless times. And she did, every year just before the harvest. But those times the sacrifice had always been an animal, never a human being.


    "Please receive our offering" The crowd echoed.


    She turned and walked to the executioner''s block, unsheathed her sword and then raised it, keeping the blade upright over her head as she prepared to strike.


    "Spare me! Mercy!" The woman cried.


    The sword in Ann''s hands wavered, and she did something she''d tried to avoid so far; she looked at her.


    Ann swallowed when she saw that tear-stricken face, the desperation mixed with a tiny bit of hope that Ann could spare her. But she didn''t, she didn''t spare her. Without warning, the sword descended on the woman''s neck, splitting it asunder. Ann was still breathing erratically when the people all around her started shouting and cheering, clapping and celebrating like she had done something worthy of praise.


    Before she knew what was happening, Ann was kneeling on the floor while the chaplain placed a five-pointed crown on her head. He said something, but she couldn''t hear him anymore. She was still looking at that woman, unable to turn away from her hollow eyes, the haunted expression on her bloodied face. Unable to forgive herself.

 Chapter 24 - Rescue 1

    Lithoniel


    The night was black and cold, an icy breeze fueling the embers of the waning campfires for one last time before smothering them for good. It was like a signal for those big lizards, the salamanders, to give voice to their grievances. All of them started wailing as they felt the bite of the wind lashing on their scaled skin like a merciless whip. They were far from home, used to live deep underground in their warm tunnels and yet, though the molten lava of the boiling vulcanos wasn''t far in the north, they were freezing. They couldn''t cope with the sudden drop in temperature, and they weren''t the only ones.


    The elves on the lookout shivered, crossing their arms over their chest as they tried to stay warm, but they could do nothing when the danger came from above in the form of a deceptively thin layer of white. It was the first snow, prelude of the winter to come. Overall, It was a bad night for the sentries, but it was perfect for Rolim and Lithoniel.


    No one was looking at them when they approached the palisade, crawling in the mud - that grayish sludge that forms when white snow and black ashes mix - until they reached the east side of the wall. No one heard them when they took out their grappling hooks and threw them, the metal tips plunging deeply on the logs; but above all, no one discovered them when they heaved up, climbing the rope and reached the top of the wall.


    The palisade wasn''t tall, barely over nine feet, but from the start, it had been built to keep the beasts outside, not other elves. After all, who would be so dumb to sneak inside the biggest camp the elves had built in recent years? Two people, apparently.


    Rolim was the first to get off the wall, landing perfectly as he jumped down, his foot steady and strong. Lithoniel came right after, using wisdom and skill rather than strength to cushion the fall and roll on her shoulder when she touched ground.


    The encampment was quiet, and the few elves on guard duty weren''t patrolling but desperately trying to rekindle the burned-out campfires. They weren''t having much success, but it didn''t matter. For Lithoniel and Rolim was better that way, as the light of the torches were like beacons, turning the guards into stationary targets, easy to avoid in the pitch black darkness. Everything was going well, except for one thing: they had no idea where the prisoners could be.


    We should split up. Lithoniel gestured in that sign language the elves perfected in the last thousand years.


    That''s a bad idea. Rolim replied, on his face that disapproving frown she had come to know so well.


    We don''t have time to waste! She said, glancing around her as she searched for potential threats.


    There''s only two of us. He reminded her. Even if we split it''s still like looking for a needle in a haystack.


    All the more reason...


    Think, Lithoniel! Where do you think they would put them?


    Lithoniel frowned before looking around her. Most of the encampment was in the dark, the tents so close to each other they formed a tight cluster, except for that empty space at the center of the encampment. There was just a tent there, a single pavilion much bigger than the others. She squinted her eyes, an idea beginning to take shape in her mind.


    I think they are there. She gestured, pointing in that direction.


    Rolim followed her finger and frowned.


    Why?


    There are six encampments here. Six tribes. She reminded him. Prisoners are spoils of war, a sign of prestige. Probably they decided to keep them there to avoid infighting.


    She gestured, well aware she had no way to prove her theory.


    That could be their command center. Rolim argued. There could be dozens of them inside.


    Maybe. Lithoniel shrugged. But...what other choices do we have?


    Rolim thought a bit about it before giving her a stiff nod. Lithoniel sighed with relief. She made a step forward, heading in the pavilion''s direction when Rolim grabbed her arm.


    She looked down at his hands and blinked at him. In response to it, Rolim pointed at himself.


    I''ll go first.


    Lithoniel rolled her eyes. She still had to get used to him acting protective, the big caveman defending his woman, but it wasn''t a bad feeling. Aside from the wind piercing through them as tiny daggers, the walk was unexpectedly uneventful, though still nerve-cracking. They were halfway to their destination and Lithoniel was starting to believe everything would go as planned when something unexpected occurred.


    The weather suddenly grew worse. The wind started blowing and howling in their ears, turning the snow falling from the sky in a whirlwind of ice, more similar to hail than snow. The encampment was starting to look like a grave, quiet and dark, the amount of snow quickly piling up and entombing the elves in their tents.


    Lithoniel and Rolim looked worried, glancing at the skies with increasing agitation. It risked turning into a full snowstorm. They had been extremely careful so far, taking the less traveled routes and thinking ten times before taking any step, but they couldn''t do that anymore. Rolim turned to look at her, the worry in his face swiftly replaced by resolution when he stared at her face. There was no need for words. They both knew what they had to do. They had to run. And that''s exactly what they did.


    They ran over the snow, relying on their sense to avoid the patrols, using the tents as cover until they reached the center of the encampment. But even then, they didn''t stop, they ran faster and faster, madly dashing until they reached the pavilion. Only then they slowed down.


    Maybe they were just lucky, skilled, or a bit of both, but no one saw them.


    Lithoniel''s heart was still thumping when she took a peek inside. There were two "rooms", so to say. The outer one seemed like some sort of guard post, and though she wasn''t able to discern clearly what lay beyond that leather curtain separating it from the inner room, she saw something. Ebonwood bars.


    We are in the right place. She gestured to Rolim.


    Guards?


    Lithoniel squinted her eyes, risking to take another glimpse inside. Then she raised two fingers. There were just two guards, and one of them was sleeping, the back of his head leaning against the tent and a woolen blanket wrapped around his body. Lithoniel hesitated a little before taking out her dagger.


    Are you sure you''re up for this? Rolim gestured.


    I am.


    Rolim raised an eyebrow at that. The hand holding the dagger was shaking. Lithoniel tightened her grip on the handle.


    You don''t need to do it. Rolim gestured. He looked worried.


    You can''t deal with them both. She answered.


    Rolim narrowed his eyes.


    Maybe you can. She amended. But it''s safer this way.


    He still didn''t seem convinced, but Lithoniel had no intention to give him the chance to refuse.


    I''ll take the one sleeping.


    However, before she could move, Rolim sneaked up behind the one who was awake, locked his arm around his neck and squeezed. The guard grabbed his arm, clawing at Rolim as he tried to get free, but there were very few elves who could compete with him in a contest of strength.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    He became weaker and weaker, and was about to lose consciousness when Lithoniel sneaked up on the other guard. She lifted the dagger, the blade coming closer and closer to his face before stopping, just a few inches away from his neck. She bit her lips, trying to finish the job, plunge that metal tip in his throat, but she couldn''t.


    That''s when she heard it, a sound coming from behind her. It was a strangulated noise, the guard''s last wheeze before death. The sleeping elf woke up immediately. Then he stood up, his foggy eyes widening when he saw the dagger in Lithoniel''s hands.


    "Alarm...!" He started shouting, so Lithoniel did the only thing she could do; she covered his mouth with her hand and...slit his throat.


    The guard gurgled, a gush of warm blood spilling over her hand, burning it like fire. It was just an impression, of course, maybe a manifestation of the guilt she was feeling, but as she kept her hand on his mouth preventing him from speaking, that hotliquid kept flowing out. She had seen a lot of blood in her life, got injured more times than she could remember, but that seemed different: brighter, almost translucent. Unreal.


    "Let go." Rolim whispered some seconds later when the guard stopped moving. She blinked, realizing she was still holding him. When Lithoniel removed her hand, Rolim put him down very carefully. He glanced back at the tent''s entrance and only when he was sure no one heard them he turned to Lithoniel.


    "Don''t look at him."


    "You shouldn''t talk. They could hear us." She replied, absentminded. Her mind was still a bit foggy, her shoulders trembling.


    "You weren''t watching me." He replied. "I tried to shake you, but you didn''t budge."


    Lithoniel didn''t answer. She kept wringing her hands and staring at the blood on them.


    "They had to die, Lithoniel." He said, and she finally looked up at him.


    "I know" She answered, but her voice was flat.


    "You shouldn''t have insisted." He muttered under his breath. "You weren''t ready for that."


    "What?"


    "Nothing. The guard had a key." He said, showing it to her. "Let''s get our people out of here." His words stirred her up, reminded her of their purpose.


    They moved deeper into the pavilion, but what waited for them there was something they would have never expected. It was the smell what they felt at first; the stench of sweat, dry blood, and rotten flesh. Then they saw what lay inside the room and bleached. There was a big wooden table on their left, and over it, an entire set of knives, bloodied and serrated. However what they found on the right side of the room was even worse. It was a chair, layered with spikes on every surface, and just past it, a breaking wheel.


    This wasn''t a prison, but a torture chamber.


    Compared to those brutal tools, the small cage placed on the far side of the room went almost unnoticed. There were fifteen, maybe twenty people there, packed like sardines. However, many of them were on the ground, still and cold, their bodies riddled with cuts, lashes, and burn marks.


    For the ancestors! What did they do to them?!


    Lithoniel felt her knees buckling but forced herself to go on and look at them. Their clothes were torn, their faces vague, almost unrecognizable under that layer of dirt, but above all they were scared.


    When Rolim and Lithoniel approached, no one rose to greet them. Some of them sobbed, completely terrified of their arrival, while others were apathetic, their gazes blank and dull.


    "Volodar?" Rolim asked all of a sudden, looking at a small elf curled in on himself like a twisted ebonroot. "Is that you?"


    Even the usually stoic Rolim looked shocked, but Lithoniel didn''t blame him, she was the same.


    "Volodar?" She whispered.


    She knew that name, but the skilled hunter in her memory didn''t match with the frail and broken old man she was seeing.


    The Volodar she remembered was tall and strong, tough like ebonwood bark and very brave, though a little arrogant. However, the man in front of her eyes was small and stooped, his thick brown hair thinner and white like wool. His face was even worse; scrawny and haunted, his cheeks hollows, and his left eye empty but scarred like someone plucked it out by force and had fun doing it. He looked older, and not just of a year or two, but decades, a mere shadow of the formidable hunter she knew.


    However, the real problem was that Volodar was supposedly dead. He went missing months before Lithoniel and the others left their tribe for the hunting expedition, months before everything started.


    What is he doing here?


    She wondered, and she wasn''t the only one. Rolim squinted his eyes, looking at the other elves around Volodar, but they all refused to meet his gaze.


    "R-Rolim?" Volodar croaked. "Are you real?"


    "Yes, Volodar, we are real." He said to him. "Hang on, we''ll let you right out." He said to the other survivors who looked at them like they were ghosts.


    Lithoniel didn''t know what their jailers did to them, but they seemed broken.


    "We are real. We are not a figment of your imagination." She repeated, but Volodar just stared at her blankly. In the meanwhile Rolim already used the guard''s key to open the cage.


    "I''m Lithoniel." She tried to explain and set them at ease. "I was sent here..."


    "You''re...Lithoniel?" Volodar asked, his voice uncertain and weak. And no, he didn''t say half-blood like he used to call her, but Lithoniel.


    However, what he did afterward left her completely speechless.


    "I''m sorry, Lithoniel, I''m sorry." He bowed his head, crying as he kneeled down before her. "I shouldn''t have said that to the Nighstalker."


    Rolim frowned.


    "Nighstalker? What is he talking about?" He asked the survivors, but they were still too scared to answer him.


    "Don''t listen to him. It''s always the same stuff." One of them answered. It was a hunter called Folas, apparently the braver among them. "He apologizes and then starts crying."


    "You don''t have to apologize." She said, her voice filled with pity.


    She grabbed her arms and tried to drag him up, but Volodar wriggled out.


    "No, no, no!" He said, furiously shaking his head. "It''s my fault! My fault!"


    "Calm down, Volodar!" Rolim said to him, before glancing at Lithoniel. "If he keeps shouting..."


    "No! I have to apologize! I have to make amends! Lithoniel would be alive if it weren''t for me!" He yelled as a raging lunatic.


    "Volodar! I''m right here!" She tried to calm him down and Volodar froze, just for a second or two, then he started crying again.


    "It''s my fault." He softly wailed. "I shouldn''t have listened to him."


    Lithoniel furrowed her brow.


    "Listen? Listen to who?"


    "The Weaver." Volodar whispered, curling into a ball, his good eye big and scared.


    "The Weaver?" She asked, glancing at Folas, but the elf was as clueless as she was.


    "I don''t know. He never talked about it." Folas answered.


    "Volodar" She said softly. "Who is the Weaver?"


    "You won''t get anything out of him" Folas grumbled. "He is just rambling nonsense."


    Lithoniel gave him a dirty glance, and she was about to openly rebuke him when Volodar started talking.


    "He is a Harald, the Weaver of webs. He picks the strings, intertwines fates, but no one can see them. No, no, no one can!" He shook his head. "No one can escape. No one except..."


    "Except?" Lithoniel asked, but Volodar was staring into the void.


    "Volodar," She whispered. "Except who?"


    However, Volodar already regressed to his former state.


    "I''m sorry, Lithoniel, I''m sorry. It''s my fault..."He started all over again.


    Lithoniel sighed.


    "He had been here for much longer than any of us." Folas said to them. "The things they did to him..." He shook his head, utterly terrified.


    "They convinced him that everyone died during the last hunting expedition. I think he feels guilty, it was him who suggested to the Nighstalker to hunt the Zaruk. We tried to convince him, tell him Lithoniel came back alive, but he wouldn''t believe us."


    Rolim cleared his throat. "How many of you can''t walk?"


    Folos thought about it for a bit. "Five, I think."


    "Four." A woman interjected.


    It was Aila, a woodcarver if Lithoniel remembered correctly, as well as Folas'' wife.


    "Four?" Folas asked.


    "Enania passed away last night." Aila whispered.


    "Damn butchers! I want to..." Folas gritted his teeth.


    "Now is not the time." Aila said. "We have to go back first. Think about our wounded." She easily coaxed him, playing him like a fiddle.


    "Ryo and Vulre can''t move." Folas announced. "Those bastards tortured them all night. They..." His voice broke down, tears pooling at the corner of his eyes.


    "It''s over." Aila whispered to her husband, patting his shoulder.


    "You''re right. It''s over." The elf nodded, but his gravelly voice indicated he was from being convinced.


    Lithoniel knew the man could be a potential problem, but it wasn''t listening to him at the moment. There was something missing, she could feel it. She raised her hand, and everyone shut up.


    What is it? Rolim gestured.


    What do you hear?


    Rolim looked up, staring at the top of the ceiling, but shook his head. Nothing.


    Lithoniel nodded grimly. Exactly. The wind stopped blowing.


    Rolim''s face darkened.


    "That means we don''t have much time left." Rolim whispered to Lithoniel. "Without the storm covering our escape, we''ll be lucky to get out of here alive." He glanced at the four elves still lying on the ground and gave her a meaningful look. "Unless we get rid of some of our burdens."


    Lithoniel paled. "Rolim, you can''t mean to..."


    "You are the one who has to take that decision, Lithoniel, but we can''t bring all of them with us, not if we want to survive."


    Lithoniel saw how the others were looking at them and grabbed his arm, dragging him into the guard post.


    "Rolim," She hissed. "you know I can''t take that kind of decision!"


    "You have to. You''re in command." He reminded her.


    "Yes, but..." She swallowed, looking at the dry blood on her hands, then up at Rolim''s face. How can you ask me that?


    That action hadn''t gone unnoticed, and yet Rolim''s expression didn''t soften.


    "Lithoniel, you can save some of them...or we can all die here." His words sounded a bit harsh, but they were pragmatic, just like the man who had said them.


    Lithoniel closed her eyes, her knuckles bleaching as she tightened her fists, the expressions on her face changing quickly, a sign of the inner turmoil raging inside her. When she finally reopened her eyes, the hesitation was gone replaced by a firm resolution, and anger. So much anger.


    "I can say it to them if you wan..."Rolim suggested, but Lithoniel shook her head.


    "I''ll do it. As you said, it''s my duty." She said before walking back to the torture chamber.


    All the survivors stared at her when she came back, in their faces hope and fear as they awaited her decision.


    "Those who can''t walk..." She said out loud, her jaw clenched tight. "have to stay here. We can''t bring them with us."


    She expected them to complain, to cry or plead for their companions, maybe even to insult her. However, no one did. They didn''t seem surprised, but relieved. That until Lithoniel looked at them like she wanted to rip their heads off and they flinched. It was almost like she trying to find an outlet for her rage, a way to lessen her guilt. It didn''t work, of course, and when she went back to the guard post she did everything she could to avoid looking at the four people they were leaving behind, the elves she''d just sentenced to die.

 Chapter 25 - Rescue 2

    Lithoniel


    Once Lithoniel took a peek outside, she was greeted by a completely different view. There were at least five inches of snow on the ground, and the sky was clear, the moon like a beacon after the storm. That wasn''t good, but the worst part was that the guards had resumed their duties. There weren''t many of them, Lithoniel could see just four elves at the moment, but they were patrolling. Luckily, it was the middle of the night, and it was cold outside, so she doubted they would meet regular tribesmen, but the guards were a serious threat now.


    We can''t go together, they would see us. She turned back and gestured. We''ll have more chances if we do this gradually. She looked at Rolim. The oldest and the weakest first.


    Rolim nodded and started giving orders when Lithoniel added, Put Volodar in the first group.


    Rolim froze, a line appearing between his brows, but Lithoniel wasn''t looking at him anymore. She was observing the guards, feverishly trying to memorize their patterns and routes. She was still analyzing every possible scenario when she spotted Rolim with the corner of her eye.


    "Lithoniel." Rolim cautiously called her when she didn''t look at him.


    "How many?" She asked in a clipped voice.


    She heard him drawing in a long breath, but she didn''t turn.


    "Fourteen, ourselves included. I divided them into three groups. Volodar will go with the first, Aila and Folas with the second and you and I with the last one."


    Lithoniel nodded distractedly. Maybe Rolim wasn''t her favorite person at the moment, but she trusted him. Besides, she had other concerns. Namely, the guards.


    "There are a lot of them." Rolim whispered to her, following her gaze.


    "We are in the middle of their encampment. Besides..." She narrowed her eyes. She saw something, a moment when no one was looking their way. However, the time was short, just enough to cross that space separating them from the tents and reach the other side of the encampment.


    "Besides...?" Rolim asked, but Lithoniel still refused to look at him.


    She knew she was being petty, but his words still stung.


    "How many grappling hooks do we have?" She asked instead.


    "Enough. We find a few in the pavilion. I already handed them to the others. But..." Rolim hesitated. His voice sounded strange, more somber than usual.


    Lithoniel squinted her eyes and forced herself to look at him. "What is it?"


    Rolim didn''t answer immediately but glanced back at the survivors, many of whom were still trying to stand up, their muscles sluggish after their prolonged captivity, "Most of them are debilitated by the lack of food and the long imprisonment."


    Lithoniel tensed her shoulders, "Rolim, if you''re saying they are too weak..."


    Rolim held up his hands, "No, it will be tight, but they can make it. They just need a little help."


    She narrowed her eyes, "What kind of help?"


    Rolim''s response was to pull something out of his pocket. It was just a vial, but the substance, that dark red sludge boiling inside it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.


    "How did you get that thing?" She whispered, unwittingly making a step back as she battled the urge to recoil.


    "I thought we might need it" Rolim replied. He looked unperturbed liked he expected that kind of reaction. "and I was right. If we use this..."


    "Are you out of your mind?!" She said, raising her voice to him.


    "Lower your voice." Rolim advised though it sounded a lot like an order.


    Lithoniel looked around, noticed most of the survivors were staring at them, and obeyed. However, she had no intention to let this go. Not this time.


    "Even the former Nighstalker wasn''t so dumb to use that thing." She hissed.


    That was the most offensive thing she could say to him, but the corner of his eyes just crinkled a bit. "They need it. They need the Ebonfire."


    Ebonfire, that was the name, and just like the ebonroot''s powder the Loremaster had forced her to take, that thing was a byproduct of the ebonwood. The problem was that there were other ingredients - mainly the blood of an Embersea''s predator and a generous amount of muddyfire - in that infernal concoction. The result was the Ebonfire''s brew, or as the humans liked to call it, the berserker potion.


    "Rolim" She said, struggling to stay calm as anxiety swirled through her. "There is a reason if we don''t use it anymore."


    "Maybe," He conceded. "but it''s only choice. They need it, Lithoniel-"


    "If they take that thing, they could die or go mad. It happened before."She tried to reason with him.


    "No, they won''t. It should be fine...in small doses."


    A muscle in her jaw twitched, "Should?"


    "It''s a gamble." He admitted. "But right now, they can barely walk, and you need them to run, don''t you?"


    Lithoniel opened her mouth, ready to rebut, but realized she couldn''t. Thanks to the weather, there were few guards outside, and that presented an opportunity. However, if it''s true that splitting the survivors into groups reduced the risk of getting caught, it''s also true that the entire plan risked failing if they were too slow.


    She knew that, and apparently, Rolim knew it too.


    "We''ll leave a trail on the snow, it''s inevitable. But if someone is too slow..." He trailed off, his words hanging in the air.


    Lithoniel squeezed her eyes shut. She hated to admit it, but he was right. She took a deep breath, and when she reopened her eyes, Rolim knew he had won. However, his victory was her defeat. For the second time that day, she was forced to surrender to his strict logic, the harsh truth of facts.


    "You can ask them" She conceded. "but I won''t force anyone to take it and neither will you." She specified, but Rolim didn''t seem worried.


    "Of course." He said, his voice oddly mild.


    Lithoniel glared at him, "You already asked them, didn''t you?"


    "Now, why would you think that?" He asked, his expression completely dull.


    Lithoniel gave him a frosty look, but Rolim was very good at playing dumb.


    She lifted an eyebrow and observed him carefully when he didn''t move. "What else is there?"


    Rolim drew in a long breath, "It''s about Volodar." He said and she stiffened. "If he starts shouting in the middle..."


    Lithoniel''s expression hardened, "I won''t leave him, Rolim."


    "Fine" Rolim grumbled like he expected nothing else. "But think about putting him last."


    "That''s the most dangerous position, Rolim." She argued. "I won''t do it."


    Fortunately, Rolim didn''t contradict her this time.


    However, that respite was shortlived. She was still sighing with relief when she saw Folas peeking out of the pavilion. He was staring at one of the guards, his jaw tight and his hand squeezing the wooden handle of a knife with such strength, Lithoniel feared the wood would soon start cracking if he didn''t loosen his grip on it.


    "How can you be sure it''s him?" Aila asked. She seemed worried, and judging by the look of pure hatred on Folas'' face, Lithoniel would have been too if she were in her place.


    "It''s him." He said, his voice quavering with anger. "He is wearing my jacket."


    "Folas," She whispered softly. "I know what he did to you is..."


    "What he did to me? What about you, Aila?" He asked, pinning her with his eyes. "Or do you think I don''t know what you had to offer to save my life?"


    Aila paled, her lips quivering when her gaze met Lithoniel''s. She bowed, hiding her face, and that was all the confirmation Folas needed.


    "I have to kill that bastard." He said, balling his hands into fists. "I won''t rest until he is dead."


    "You can''t." Aila pleaded, grabbing his arm. "Revenge can wait. The best way to defeat him is to come out of here alive."


    Folas flinched seeing the tears running down her cheeks, but after a moment of hesitation, he jerked away from her. "I have to..."


    "Listen to your wife, Folas." Rolim warned, hands on his sides as he approached him. The physical threat he posed was enough to make Folas pause for a moment, but that''s all.


    "Don''t stand in my way. You don''t know what he did to us." He repeated, his lips pressed together. "I have to reven..."


    "Don''t even think about it." Lithoniel said, very slowly. "If you even try to get close to that guard, I''ll be the one to put an arrow in your back."


    Folas'' mouth snapped shut as his eyes bored into her, sizing her up. Maybe he didn''t like what he saw or believed she was just bluffing, because he made a step forward, his fingers trailing down until they were touching the handle of his knife. Lithoniel, on the other hand, didn''t move but just stared back at him without blinking.


    "Don''t do it." Aila whispered to him when he was about to draw the knife.


    Lithoniel saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes when he looked at his wife, but he was still holding the knife.


    "They are friends. They saved us." Aila insisted, and finally Folas let go. Just in time. He was so focused on Lithoniel than he didn''t see that Rolim already outflanked him.


    Aila dragged his husband away, but not before bowing to Lithoniel, her face filled with gratitude as she walked by. Lithoniel was still staring at them when Rolim approached her.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "This doesn''t look good."


    "No, it doesn''t." She answered, sliding him a guarded look. "Thank you." She still looked wary, but her voice sounded grateful.


    "For what?" He said, looking at her hand behind her back, still gripping the knife''s handle. "You had everything under control."


    "I did" And that''s the problem.


    She didn''t want to admit it, but if it weren''t for Rolim, maybe that guard wouldn''t have been the only elf she killed that night.


    Rolim''s gaze softened, "You wouldn''t have done it." He whispered to her. "You wouldn''t have killed him."


    "Do you think he''ll be a problem?" She asked to change the subject, and Rolim was all too happy to oblige.


    He stared at him for a long minute but shook his head at the end, "I don''t know."


    Lithoniel drew in a sharp breath. She had hoped for a different answer.


    "No choice, then. Put him with the last group."


    Rolim didn''t seem to like that plan.


    "I don''t think it''s a good idea to separate him from Aila." He objected. "His wife keeps him grounded."


    "Not enough, evidently." She said. "Better to keep him close."


    Rolim didn''t disagree this time, though he seemed a bit puzzled.


    "What is it?" She asked.


    "Both Volodar and Folas might be a threat. Then, why did you treat them differently?"


    Lithoniel gave him a half-shrug, "Volodar is old and weak, Folas is young and strong."


    "Makes sense" He said, leaning closer to stare at her face. "but are you sure that''s the only reason?"


    That caught her off guard. She scrunched up her face, trying to put her thoughts in order. Then she shook her head.


    "No, it''s not the only reason. Volodar is...different. It''s not his fault if he behaves that way. But Folas..."


    "...knows what he is doing."


    She nodded, "I won''t allow him to endanger us all just because he wants revenge." Her face darkened a bit. "Also, Volodar had been their prisoner for longer than anyone else." She stated, well aware Rolim would understand what she really meant.


    He didn''t disappoint her.


    "You think he might know something about our enemies." He nodded, a contemplative look on his face."However..." He glanced at Volodar before giving her a meaningful look.


    The former hunter was crouching down, an innocent smile on his face as he counted the ants with his fingers.


    "That''s another reason. He suffered enough. Besides, Volodar''s standing in the tribe is high. Bringing him back may be good for morale."


    "You already started thinking like the Nighstalker." He said like it was a compliment, but Lithoniel didn''t think that way.


    She knew it was necessary, but the fact she was trying to save a man just because he might be of use later, left a bitter taste in her mouth.


    "We''ve lost enough time. Let''s get them in position." She curtly said.


    It didn''t take much. Rolim was efficient as usual, and the survivors could hardly wait to get out of there.


    Wait for my signal, then run as fast as you can. She pointed to the west, the same direction she and Rolim came from. Don''t stop, don''t look back. Run. She warned, and all the survivors except Volodar nodded seriously.


    The old hunter was in his own world, but two elves grabbed his arms and were ready to drag him if necessary. When they started eating the Ebonfire, Lithoniel averted her gaze, unable to look at them.


    They still looked haggard when they finished, but their eyes were tinged with red, and they were sweating. Rolim tried to talk with them, but they seemed to have lost their ability to speak. They half-snarled when he got close, a copious amount of drool running down from their mouths. They were closer to ravenous beasts than men.


    And that''s a small dose?


    She shivered. She didn''t want to think about what a full dose could do to a man. The only good thing was they still understood they had to escape. Lithoniel tried not to look at them, waited for the right moment and gave the signal.


    Now! She gestured, and Volodar and other four started running.


    The following minutes seemed endless. Lithoniel was constantly afraid one of the guards would turn, look in their direction and give the alarm. However, nothing of the sort happened.


    The Ebonfire''s effect is stronger than expected.


    Despite their injuries and the lack of food, the survivors were fast, maybe even quicker than normal. Volodar, in particular, surprised her. He was like possessed, running over the snow so quickly he soon took the lead, leaving the younger elves behind. Lithoniel sighed with relief when they finally reached the cover of the tents, soon disappearing into the night. Once again she was about to give the signal to go when she saw someone who wasn''t supposed to be there.


    Folas.


    "Not you." She said. "You''re coming with me."


    "My wife..." Folas started complaining.


    "...will be safe." She cut him off, her hands on her hips as she stared at him, challenging him to disobey her.


    He glared at her, but she didn''t budge. Only when he stepped back, grumbling something under his breath, Lithoniel let go the bloody knife.


    "He''ll be fine" In the meanwhile, Rolim was saying to Aila. "He is strong."


    Aila frowned, and for a moment Lithoniel thought she wouldn''t believe him, but she nodded at the end.


    Lithoniel waited until the second group was in position and the guards were where she wanted them to be before giving Aila the order to go. Everything was going well until one of the guards didn''t follow the usual pattern and came back earlier than expected.


    Lithoniel didn''t have time to think. She quickly notched an arrow, took aim and released the bowstring. She made it look easy, her movements fluid and fast. The arrow flew in a straight line, almost as powerful as a crossbow''s dart, before reaching its target. It pierced through the elf''s leather armor like butter, part of the flint tip coming out its back. The guard had just the time to look at the object firmly plunged in his stomach before dying, the carpet of snow below his feet muffling the noise when he fell down.


    "That was close." Rolim muttered.


    "Too close." She answered, her eyes searching for potential anomalies, signs the other guards noticed what happened.


    However, the dead guard was the least of her problems. Someone was missing.


    "Folas." She said, searching for the elf but without success. "Where is he?"


    "That idiot...!" Rolim cursed, pointing to her left.


    Folas was crawling in the snow, the knife in his hand ready to strike as he approached the guard he hated. He was smart enough not to attack downwind, but he didn''t realize, or he simply didn''t care, that the guard wasn''t alone. There was another elf not far from him.


    Lithoniel had barely the time to notch another arrow when the second guard shouted, "Watch out!"


    After that, everything happened very quickly. Folas stabbed the guard, and both of them fell on the snow, Lithoniel''s arrow stuck in the other elf''s throat. In a matter of second and both their enemies were dead, but the damage was already done. The entire encampment seemed to wake up, torches and fires lighting up everywhere as the elves started leaving their tents.


    "Alarm!"


    "Intruders!"


    "There!" An elf shouted, pointing at them, and the guards converged on them on masse.


    Folas was still stabbing the elf''s body, his face a mask of blood and grime, when the first guard reached him, kicking him in the face. Folas growled, apparently immune to pain, his anger magnified by the Ebonfire. However, Lithoniel couldn''t care about him at the moment.


    "The gate!" She yelled, letting go of the bow and unsheathing the sword.


    The guards were already starting to surround them and reaching the gate was the only way out they had left. Lithoniel, Rolim, and two other elves - Folonnar and Calador - broke into a run, the guards shouting and chasing after them. They were about to reach the gate when two of them barred their way.


    One of them tried to stab Lithoniel, but she sidestepped avoiding him, the sharp edge of her sword tearing flesh and leather when she went around him and hit him from above. Rolim was much more brutal. He didn''t even bother to use a blade, but simply grabbed his opponent''s arms when he tried to cut him. Then he viciously headbutted him, the guard''s nose breaking and sputtering like a ripe tomato at the impact with his hard skull.


    Lithoniel was heading toward the gate when Rolim shouted, "Lithoniel!"


    She felt the air moving behind her and had just enough time to dodge when the sharp point of a spear brushed against her side. She made one, then two steps back before looking down. Then she winced, her cold fingers wet of blood as she touched the wound. It was just a scratch, but it burnt like hell.


    The guard ran toward her before using the spear from the top-down like a harpoon. She dodged again and when the spear missed her, she struck back, her sword running parallel to the ground before reaching its target. Fresh blood spilled on the white snow as the man''s arm fell, severed to the bone.


    The guard screamed in pain and anguish, but she wasn''t looking at him anymore. She ran; the screams of the guards behind her approaching quickly. Rolim was the only one waiting for her since the other two elves had already thrown their grappling hooks and were climbing the rope. Lithoniel did the same and was halfway to the top when arrows started darting around her.


    She swung on the rope just in time to see an arrow sinking on the wall''s wood, barely missing her. However, another elf wasn''t so lucky.


    "Folonnar!" She yelled when she saw an arrow sticking out of his back, blood trailing from his mouth as he loosed his hold on the rope, falling to his death.


    However, she had no time to mourn him. The guards'' attacks - disorganized so far -were getting more coordinated.


    "Open the gate!" An elf shouted when Lithoniel, Rolim, and Calador were already at the top of the wall.


    A second later, she heard something creaking from below her and jumped down, on the other side of the wall, immediately mimicked by Rolim and Calador. That''s when the gate opened, and they saw a salamander pouncing on Calador like a blur. The elf didn''t even have time to scream when the lizard opened his jaws and clamped down on his skull, crushing it like an egg.


    The spectacle was horrible but not as much as what was about to cross the gate. Salamanders. Half dozen of them. The Beastmaster, the same man they had seen before, was riding one of them.


    "Run!" Rolim shouted, not that there was any need to say it.


    They dashed across the plain and headed north, or at least they tried to, but it was impossible to escape from those lizards. The Salamanders closed the gap in a matter of minutes. They almost surrounded them a couple of times and they were forced to change direction over and over again. In the end, they weren''t going north anymore, but south.


    At some point the lizard the Beastmaster was riding jumped on them. Rolim rolled and avoided the beast, but Lithoniel ducked a bit too late, and the Salamander''s feet brushed against her shoulder, throwing her in the air. Lithoniel felt a stinging pain when she fell, the gravel scraping her legs and arms when she rolled on the rocky soil. She was still hazy, her head ringing like a bell when she sniffed that rotten smell of brimstone.


    When she looked up, she saw that the salamander was hovering over her, tendrils of smoke coming out its nose as its goiter and stomach swelled like a balloon.


    "Lithoniel!" Rolim shouted, desperately running toward her, but he was too far.


    When the Salamander opened its mouth and was about to breathe death over her, Lithoniel heard something whizzing over her head.


    It was an arrow.


    Lithoniel''s eyes went round when she turned and saw Kolvar, maybe fifty steps behind her. He was still holding a bow, his mouth wide open like he hadn''t expected to hit it. But he did hit it.


    The Salamander made a strange hissing sound, the equivalent of a scream of pain when the dart pierced its soft palate. Then it roared, its head yanking left and right as plumes of black smoke came out of its mouth. The Beastmaster desperately tried to calm it, but the Salamander had gone berserk and didn''t seem to care who were friends and foes anymore. It used its tail like a hammer on another lizard before pouncing on a smaller salamander, his talons easily cutting through the hard scales.


    Lithoniel stood up and took the opportunity to run dragging the dumbfounded Kolvar along with her.


    However, they didn''t make it very far. Soon Lithoniel heard one of them hissing. She looked back and saw the Beastmaster had managed to calm the lizard, and once again the salamanders were chasing after them.


    "We can''t outrun them!" Rolim shouted.


    Lithoniel gnashed her teeth. Desperation started to set in when she realized how utterly hopeless they were. But then she saw them, the red mountains of the West Ridge.


    "Turn right!" She shouted.


    "Are you mad?!" Rolim barked, losing his cool for the first time.


    "We have no choice!" She wheezed, the long run starting to take its toll on her.


    Rolim grumbled something, but when she turned, he and Kolvar followed her. At some point, the slope began getting steeper, and the fumes of the lava became so strong they were making their eyes water. However, as they kept going west, something strange happened.


    All the Salamanders stopped following them. They started wailing, putting they feet down, and no matter what the Beastmaster did to convince them, they refused to move. Only then Lithoniel and the brothers slowed down.


    "You were right." Rolim reluctantly admitted, wheezing a bit, still short of breath. "But what do we do now?"


    He looked back. The Beastmaster and the salamanders didn''t follow them, but they hadn''t left either, which meant they couldn''t go back that way.


    "We need to move forward." Lithoniel said, looking at the lava flowing down the mountain. "It seems the southern part of the ridge is relatively safe. This path goes west or south-west. It should be alright if we follow it."


    "We must go east, not west." Kolvar reminded her, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.


    "We must stay alive first." Rolim interjected, agreeing with her. "Besides, Volodar and the others already escaped. With a bit of luck, they''ll reach the tribe and inform the Loremaster of what happened here."


    Lithoniel nodded. She didn''t like to leave them, but she had no other option at the moment.


    "Let''s move. We can''t stay here for too long." She said eyeing the Beastmaster and the salamanders at the foot of the mountains. "Maybe the salamanders don''t like the mountains, but his tribesmen don''t have that kind of problem."


    Rolim and Kolvar agreed with her. They hadn''t gone far, maybe two or three hundred meters, when they heard a loud thud. They stopped, their eyes darting around the mountains surrounding them, when another, stronger thud followed the first one.


    However, the first two were nothing compared to the third.


    It was like the entire mountain was moving, the earth shaking so strongly that they were all thrown down. When rocks started falling from the mountaintops, they could do nothing but cover their heads and wait for the onslaught to end. It didn''t last long, but when the earth stopped shaking, and the dust settled, they finally understood why the salamanders didn''t follow them here.


    "I-Impossible" Kolvar said, staring at the red nightmare rising from the lake or magma below them.


    It almost seemed like a deja vu of their encounter with the Zaruk. However, the creature before their eyes wasn''t the Zaruk, but something much worse. Something old and terrifying. Compared to it, the salamanders were just hatchlings and even the Zaruk no more than an oversized turtle, the false ruler of a land that belonged to something else. And that ruler, the true king of the Embersea, was standing before them.


    It was a relic of the old world, the last remnant of the age of magic.


    It was a dragon.

 Chapter 26 - Tyrant 1

    Lithoniel


    Perspiration shone on Lithoniel''s brow, but it was a cold sweat that had little to do with the heat. It was something beyond fear, the kind of feeling that arises when you realize all hope is lost. Despair, that''s what they were feeling at the moment, because they all knew the behemoth hovering in the air wasn''t something they could hope to defeat.


    It wasn''t a common predator or even a rare monster, but a symbol, the embodiment of power and fear. They were just ants before it, inconsequential organisms the dragon only happened to notice because they moved in its territory, disturbing its long slumber.


    Besides, how could they fight against something so big?


    It was like picking a fight with a mountain or the sea.  The dragon was the same. It didn''t look like a living being, but a moving, roaring, hill. Even the Zaruk, the biggest monster she had ever seen, was just one-fifth of the creature before her eyes. It was over two hundred feet long, and its mouth alone was wide enough to devour ten of her. Scattered all across its spine there were dozens of sharp bone spikes, most of which were three times longer than Lithoniel''s body and thick as a tree.


    As the dragon hovered in the air, the wind produced by its huge wings raising dust and stone, a trail of magma poured down from its hooked tail. Yet, just a small part of the lava fell, rejoining the torrent of fire running below the beast. Something much odder, almost mystical, happened to the rest of it. The dragon was absorbing the lava, its scales color changing to a waxing orange as it seemed to feed on it. The process lasted just an instant, the vapor and smoke dispersing into the air as the dragon''s scales regained their original color: a murky black darker than night.


    Lithoniel and the brothers were still dazed when the dragon''s yellow vertical pupils focused on them. They all froze, unable to speak, move or even breathe. It was like something greater than them, an existence akin to a god or maybe a king was looking at them, gracing them with its attention. However, if the dragon was a god it was a vengeful one, and if it was a king, it just ordered their execution.


    It roared, and all that surprise vanished without a trace, replaced by a sharp pain as the soundwave reached them. The atmosphere itself seemed to distort, and huge rocks started caving in, the whirlwind produced by the roar cutting them like a blade. Lithoniel squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears with her hands, but it was far from enough. She was already screaming, blood dripping on her fingers when the roar grew stronger.


    That''s when the real torture began. It was like the same air they were breathing was on fire, small scalds appearing on their skin as everyone started screaming. She heard Kolvar crying as he rolled on the ground, trying to extinguish imaginary flames, and an inarticulate sound rising from her own throat.


    They were about to go crazy when everything ended, all of a sudden. Unfortunately, they had no time to rejoice. The prelude was over, but the main event had only just begun. Lithoniel looked up just in time to see the dragon''s huge head jerking back like a snake ready to pounce on its prey. Then its mouth expanded as if it was too small for what the dragon was about to do. A thick column of smoke came out of it, rose into the sky and made the dragon look like a living volcano. However, every volcano has one thing in common, and this one was no different.


    When its head sprung forward, everyone knew what was about to happen, but this didn''t mean they could avoid it.


    Lithoniel had little time to think. She saw a rock big enough to serve as a hiding place and shouted, "There!"


    The three of them were still running to take cover when what they most feared finally happened. Yet, it was different from what they expected, not fire but something much heavier; a ball of solid magma that made an odd whistling sound before splitting in the air. Then it wasn''t just one fireball anymore, but dozens, raining down from the skies like comets. One of these shooting stars crashed on the same rock they were hiding, cracking it before hurling them away. Lithoniel groaned as she tried to stand up. Then she shrieked, her eyes full of horror when she saw the hard stone was melting like snow in the sun. However, the rock wasn''t the only thing that was burning. When that familiar smell hit her nostrils, she didn''t understand what it was, but as the images of what happened to Calarel kept flowing in her head, she understood what that meant.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Burnt flesh.


    She turned her head slowly, almost fearfully and realized Kolvar was screaming, his excruciating cries of pain muffled as the earth cracked and moaned, the ground itself blistering upward, inflated by the magma surging from the depths. It almost looked like the dragon''s roar acted like a catalyst, and because of it, all the lava running underground was coming to the surface. Which meant they had two problems now.


    One of them, the dragon, wasn''t moving at the moment. Probably the smoke rising from the geysers all around them was blocking its view, but Lithoniel knew it wouldn''t last. Rolim must have thought the same thing because he dragged his brother up the mountain for a few meters before seeking refuge in a pit so wide and deep, it looked like a natural trench. Lithoniel followed his example, but she knew they couldn''t hide forever. Even if the dragon didn''t find them, the lava was still advancing, slowly but inexorably.


    They had to leave. However, she knew Kolvar couldn''t move at the moment. She fought her instinct, which was telling her not to look, and glanced at him. His right hand was gone, but the lava was still eating his flesh, inch by inch, until just a small part of his forearm was left. Oddly enough, Kolvar was still conscious, his mouth wide open like he wanted to scream, but he had no voice left. Rolim was trying to help him, but judging by how hopeless he looked, he didn''t know how.


    Lithoniel feverishly looked around, searching for a way out, but without luck. She was about to lose hope when she found something.


    A cave? It was really small, but the lava hadn''t reached it yet. That was enough for her. The problem, of course, was the serpentine behemoth standing in their way.


    It''s close to impossible to get past the dragon unharmed, but with Kolvar in that condition...


    Lithoniel shook her head, dismissing the idea. The young elf wasn''t able to walk at the moment, let alone run and avoid the deadliest creature the Embersea had ever seen.


    Unless...


    She glanced at the bow Kolvar dropped, and a risky plan started to form in her mind. Her gaze met with Rolim''s, and he decisively shook his head, probably knowing she was about to do something extremely stupid.


    Save your brother. She gestured and then smiled at him.


    Rolim''s expression changed several times in a matter of seconds, revealing a range of emotions she had never seen before on his face. There was dismay at first, but it was soon replaced by anger when he realized she wouldn''t listen to him, and then fear, because he knew that was a goodbye. Lithoniel glanced at him for one last time, picked up the bow and turned to face the heap of pure brutality hovering in the air.


    Then she ran. The dragon''s head jerked when she left her hiding place, the malice in its yellow eyes second only to its cunningness. It seemed like it saw Lithoniel, but even when she started running away, it didn''t move. It observed her for a second or two before doing something she would have never expected, something that even in her wildest dreams, or nightmares, she wouldn''t have imagined.


    Lithoniel could just stare at the dragon with shock when it lifted its colossal tail and smashed it somewhere on the mountain behind it. However, that shock turned into dread when she saw the cave collapsing, its entrance buried under tons of rock and earth. And that was just the start. The dragon wasn''t done yet.


    It looked at the trench where Rolim and Kolvar were hiding. Then it opened its mouth and a tongue of flame came out of it, flying through the air until it touched ground. It started revolving on itself, like a small whirlwind or a coin spinning at high speed. Then all the geysers seemed to explode at the same time, the lava surging and rising impossibly high before converging on the flame. They merged with it, changing it bit by bit until the fire wasn''t a smoldering heap anymore, but something solid. Lithoniel''s chest tightened with fear when she saw what it was.


    A miniature dragon, almost an exact copy of the original. The fire monster was much smaller than its master, barely ten feet long, but it had what the real dragon lacked: mobility and speed. Lithoniel watched with horror as the creature lurked around the trench where Rolim and Kolvar were hiding. However, she had no time to worry about them now.


    Someone was staring at her. Lithoniel felt a chill when those huge yellow eyes locked on her. She turned, very slowly, and shuddered. Her efforts hadn''t gone to waste.


    She had the dragon''s undivided attention. The question was if she could survive it.

 Chapter 27 - Tyrant 2

    Lithoniel


    Lithoniel had just enough time to jump back when the dragon landed on the lake of magma, triggering a mini-tsunami, the red waves crashing against the rocks, consuming them in a matter of seconds. The dragon made a step forward, and Lithoniel squinted her eyes when a wreath of smoke came out of its nostrils, rising into the sky like the chimney of a huge fireplace.


    She crouched a bit, bouncing her legs as she stared at its mouth, wary and alert as she knew very well what would come next. However, the dragon didn''t seem to follow the pattern and just stood there, unmoving. Maybe it was a coincidence or a strange twist of fate, but the wind started blowing, and all of a sudden, Lithoniel was enveloped in the dragon''s smoke, a mist so thick it looked solid.


    I can''t see anything.


    She gripped the hilt of her sword, and turned left when she heard a loud thud, then right as the earth shook.


    It''s going around me, stalking me.


    Yet, it wasn''t trying to get closer, which was even worse for some reason. Lithoniel struggled not to draw her sword, but the anticipation was grating on her nerves, the lack of visibility magnifying her fears. She was about to surrender to her instinct and run away when she heard a whooshing sound like an arrow flying through the air. She ducked and saw something darting over her head before crashing on the rock behind her. It was a small ball, no bigger than a coin, but it was entirely made of lava. Lithoniel shivered when the muddyfire started corroding the hard stone like acid.


    However, that was just the first round. A second later, another one whizzed toward her back. Lithoniel dropped down the ground, avoiding it, and rolled sideways when other three balls, much bigger than the first one, flew toward her. It was like someone was throwing stones at her, but that someone was strong like a giant and the stones big like skulls.


    She shivered, a look of fear crossing her face as she observed the hole the lava dug in the rock. It was close, just a few inches away from her head. Lithoniel was lying motionless, completely exposed, yet the dragon didn''t finish her off.


    She gritted her teeth, her fear replaced by a burning rage as she understood it was playing with her. A pity the only way to come out alive was to play and win. Before that, however, she had to find a way to come out of the mist. She was still formulating a plan, prudently assessing her options, when she heard someone screaming.


    Rolim?!


    Caution, fear, anger¡ªeverything disappeared when she realized he could be in danger. She couldn''t stop herself, resist that urge to reach him, make sure he was safe. She stood up and started running, sprinting faster than she ever did, dashing down the mountain until she forgot to breathe.


    She heard a deep rumble, but ignored it and kept running until all sound disappeared, and the only thing she could hear was her heart, pounding in her ears. However, what she was facing wasn''t a man, an elf, or even a beast like the Zaruk. It was something ancient, something that didn''t like to be defied or worse, lose its source of amusement.


    Lithoniel felt the air moving around her and bent backward, the movement so abrupt that she lost balance and fell on her back. However, she was going too fast to stop immediately and started tumbling down the mountain. It was only when she was close to the edge of the cliff and that lake of lava a the bottom of it that she slowed down.


    When she finally stopped, her legs were bloody, full of scrapes and cuts, yet she could barely feel the pain. Something huge just darted over her head before sweeping the mist away as if by magic. Then it smashed on the mountain behind her like a merciless flail, earth and stone wailing as a deep scar appeared on the side of the mountain.


    It was the dragon''s tail.


    Someone was very angry with her. Lithoniel looked down at the lava, boiling at the bottom of the cliff, well aware there was just one way to avoid the dragon. A pity the cure was almost as bad as the disease. But when she saw the dragon raising its enormous feet like it wanted to squash her like a bug, she knew she had no choice left.


    "To hell with it!" She shouted when it was about to strike the ground like a colossal hammer. Then she jumped down the cliff.


    Luckily, the rock face wasn''t like a wall, completely vertical, but more like a natural slide. The problem was that the slide was smooth, as if polished by hand, and she couldn''t find anything to grab on to stop her descent.


    She drew her knife and tried to plunge it into the rock, but even when the metal started grating on the hard stone, her arm aching because of the backlash, the only thing she achieved was to slow down a bit. She was halfway to the bottom, her chest growing tight as bile rose in her throat, when she saw a protrusion. She desperately tried to alter course, screaming as she stretched her arms, trying to reach it.


    She was so happy that she almost cried when she finally grabbed something. She panted, lifting herself up before lying down on the hard stone. She was safe for the moment, but she was stuck there, unable to go up or down. To make things worse, her "old friend" was still looking for her. It was hovering close to the top of the cliff, but It was going lower, smelling the rocks as if it could follow her scent.


    Lithoniel knew she couldn''t wait there and found a small recess in the rock face that seemed big enough to hide her. She started crawling to get inside but abruptly stopped, looking up at the dragon. It was close, just above her head.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    She had no more time, she had to move. However, hiding didn''t seem the right move anymore. She had tried to run from the dragon, stay as far away as possible, but maybe the only way to survive was to do the opposite.


    Maybe she could hide, though the dragon sense of smell seemed exceptionally keen, but then...what?


    She was stuck there and there was only one way to leave that place. Maybe her mind was twisted by fear, or she was so desperate her brain had stopped working, but she saw no other way out.


    She pulled out the grappling hook, started spinning it and waited until the dragon''s tail was just a few meters away. Then she threw it.


    It worked like a charm, the rope firmly wrapping around a huge bone spike. That''s when the dragon moved. Maybe it was an involuntary reflex, but when the hook touched it, the tail sprung like a bow string, taking Lithoniel with it. She screamed at the top of her lungs, clinging on the rope when she was flung toward the dragon''s body like a stone from a catapult.


    Then she crashed on its back, close to its neck, barely avoiding to impale herself on one of those spikes. She was still groggy, her body aching all over, when the dragon roared in outrage, the sound waves spreading from its mouth to form something tangible, its shape similar to a cone.


    Maybe it was because she was lying on its neck, far from the blast radius, but the effect wasn''t so strong this time. Granted, the noise was still deafening, but her ears didn''t bleed. The bad news was that the dragon became even angrier when its roar didn''t work, completely furious with the ant who dared to ride it. Well, she wasn''t really riding it, but desperately clinging on it, trying not to fall. It wasn''t an easy task, especially when the dragon started flying upside down or performed all the aerobatic maneuvers it knew of to get rid of the pest clinging on its back. However, Lithoniel kept holding tight, well aware her life depended on it.


    That torture lasted some minutes. Then the dragon calmed down, all of a sudden. It even stopped trying to throw her off. It was odd, but now that she wasn''t busy writhing in pain, or resisting the urge to puke, she had the time to look at was happening beneath her.


    Gradually, the darkness was swept away by the first light of the day. The landscape started changing, the volcanoes giving way to barren mountains as the sound of lava eroding the rocks was replaced by the gurgling of water.


    A cascade? And...is that a river?


    It seemed to go west, maybe rejoining the Frozen Sea. However, the river wasn''t the only thing she saw.


    There was someone moving beneath her. Two people. The breath caught in her throat when she realized they were Rolim and Kolvar. They were running toward the waterfall.


    They are still alive!


    However, they weren''t alone. The monster the dragon had created was still chasing after them. No, it wasn''t just chasing them, It had almost reached them.


    I have to help them!


    Yet, she had to help herself first. She was distracted, too focused on what was happening beneath her to notice the dragon was waiting for that moment to act. It abruptly spun, flying upside down like before. This time, however, she was unprepared. She was barely able to cling on its hard scales with one hand.


    The dragon tried to give her the final blow and shake her off but roared in frustration when she still refused to let go. Lithoniel even started to believe she could actually make it, but she underestimated the dragon. It wasn''t just angry, but hated her and was willing to do anything, even crashing on the mountain, in order to kill her.


    And that''s exactly what it did.


    When the dragon rammed on it head-on, without even trying to slow down, Lithoniel was unable to resist, the force of impact throwing her backward. There was no escape this time, only an interminable long scream that quickly turned into a wheeze as she lost the ability to breathe. The pain was so intense that she wished she could fall faster just to make it stop. That until she actually hit the ground and understood what the word pain really meant.


    Yet, despite all odds, she didn''t die on impact. She wasn''t even bleeding, not externally at least, but her body was broken. She could feel it. It was like someone had fun removing her bones and replaced them with a soft mush. Her spine was cracked, her legs unnaturally splayed and it felt like a ball of muddyfire was devouring her body, a bit at the time.


    She wished for death, that someone would put her out of her misery and was relieved when her executioner finally arrived. She first felt its hot breath on her skin, and then saw the dragon''s huge talon coming closer and closer to her. She shut her eyes, waiting for the pain to stop. Yet, it just became more intense.


    It felt like someone was gnawing at her gut, tearing her stomach apart from the inside. She screamed, her cries of pain mixing with a much deeper voice. It was the dragon, but it wasn''t roaring, it was wailing. The pain increased again, yet it wasn''t radiating all over her body as before but localized to her stomach.


    Oddly enough, she felt that her strength was coming back. She risked opening her eyes, going past that veil of pain clouding her vision, but what she saw chilled her soul. There was something coming out of her stomach; a dozen of black and twisted shadows. They were entwined around the dragon''s neck, legs and tail like the tentacles of a huge marine monster.


    No, not tentacles... She realized with horror. Roots.


    They were restraining it, holding it down while a root bigger than the others pierced through its foot, the one the dragon had lifted to finish her off. However, injuring the dragon was just a side effect.


    Lithoniel saw that the root was swelling, and at the same time, the dragon''s foot shrinking, its scales falling as it shriveled like a mummy. Soon it became painfully clear that the root was absorbing nourishment, draining the dragon of its life to feed its tree.


    To feed her.


    She should have felt disgusted, and she was, for a second or two. But then she remembered what the dragon had done to them, and she started enjoying it, taking pleasure from watching his suffering, hearing its cries of pain.


    Its foot was just a withered bone when she realized what she had done. She felt a wave of shame and revulsion, and right after, an excruciating pain when the connection broke and the roots shriveled back into shadows, disappearing without a trace.


    The dragon was free, yet it didn''t even try to take revenge but just soared into the sky before flying away.


    Lithoniel looked confused, relieved, terrified¡ªall at the same time. An ancient dragon, the most powerful creature the Embersea¡ªmaybe the whole world¡ªhad ever seen, was scared of her. However, she had no time to dwell on it or the thing that had taken up residence inside her.


    She started standing up, when she heard Kolvar screaming, "Rolim!"


    She could do nothing but run, following his voice.


    Everything seemed to slow down when she arrived, terror flashing in her eyes as she watched the scene unfolding before her. She saw Kolvar standing at the edge of the cascade, his hand outstretched as he tried to reach out for something.


    No, not something, but someone. It was Rolim. He was falling.


    Rolim turned his head, and just for an instant, the fraction of a second, their eyes met. Time seemed to stretch on for a while, but that was just an illusion. No moment can last forever, and that one was no different. When it was over Rolim fell, the stormy waters of the river engulfing him in their cold embrace.


    Then he was gone.

 Chapter 28 - The way home

    Lithoniel


    The trip back home was a long march punctuated only by the harsh winds of winter. Lithoniel and Kolvar had traveled for days without saying a word, barely looking at each other. They had always stayed together, the three of them, and now that one of them was missing, probably dead, something seemed different. Broken.


    They had tried to find Rolim for days, going west as they traveled along that nameless river until it flowed into the glacial waters of the Frozen Sea. Even then Lithoniel had wanted to keep looking. It was Kolvar who had the thankless task to convince her she was just lying to herself, holding on to a false hope, an illusion she had built just to avoid the sad truth of reality.


    Needless to say, she hadn''t been grateful.


    When the lies she had told herself disappeared, melting away like snow in the sun, she had been forced to face that Rolim, the person she had sought to the point of obsession was gone forever. The result hadn''t been pretty. She couldn''t sleep or eat. Her mind was a blank slate, her movement mechanical like the golems the dwarves used to build, constructs of stone and earth devoid of free will. The rest of the trip had been exceedingly quiet and uneventful. Nothing abnormal happened, nothing that could distract her attention and wipe away the apathy she was feeling.


    It was the sixth day since they had lost Rolim when something changed. They had tried to steer clear from the enemy''s patrol so far, but soon it became obvious their precautions were useless. They found no footprints on the plains, no sign of their patrols. The dust storms had wiped them clean long ago, maybe the same day they''d rescued the prisoners.


    Lithoniel and Kolvar risked going back to take a look at their camp, but what they found shocked them. There was no smoke rising from the campfires, no guards at the gate, or sign of activity whatsoever. It looked abandoned. A strange sense of foreboding washed over her, the inexplicable urge to run inside, see for herself what had really happened.


    She did just that. Kolvar trudged along shouting her to stop, but there was no need to be afraid, not for their safety at least. The encampment was deserted.


    "They even left some of their stuff behind." Kolvar said, kicking one of the crates with his foot.


    It was nothing essential: miscellaneous stuff, trinkets and other useless decorations the elves used to adorn their tents. However, the wall was another thing altogether.


    Why didn''t they dismantle it?


    Wood was valuable, especially with winter on the way.


    "They left in a hurry." Lithoniel whispered.


    She had the feeling they were somehow responsible for their sudden departure.


    "Let''s go" She said to Kolvar, fear lending her wings.


    Their trip soon became a forced march, a race against time. Unfortunately, that race had already ended long ago. They left the plains only to find that the Great Penumbra was already swarming with enemies. They had to proceed with caution, and many times they were forced to stop and take long detours to avoid their patrols.


    They arrived at the village five days later. They were dead tired and hungry, but above all, they were dismayed, utterly terrified by the dreadful spectacle before them.


    Their village was no more.


    Columns of black smoke were rising above the plateau, darkening the gray skies. The tents were still burning, but since the ebonwood they were made of wasn''t normal wood, they couldn''t know when this happened. Kolvar continuously shook his head, unable to believe what he was seeing. Lithoniel was no different. They laid down, the ashes falling from the skies slowly banking upon their bodies as they observed what was left of their village.


    "What happened here?" Kolvar whispered, his voice a bit hoarse as he talked for the first time after days of silence.


    Lithoniel just shook her head.


    "This is our fault" Kolvar whispered. "That''s why they were in a hurry. They were worried we would warn the tribe."


    Lithoniel tightened her lips, "We can do nothing about that now. Let''s leave."


    They were afraid the enemies might still be nearby so crawled until they were out of sight. When the sky started getting dark, and the temperature suddenly dropped, they sought refuge in a small cave. Kolvar immediately gathered some wood and tried to start a fire, without success. He had just lost his dominant hand and wasn''t able to use flint and steel with one hand. Yet, Lithoniel didn''t even try to help him. She looked completely lost, staring into the void. She didn''t know what to do now that their tribe was gone. Now that Rolim...


    She shook her head. She couldn''t think about him, not anymore.


    In the end, Kolvar succeeded. They ate in silence, the flickering flame of the campfire keeping the frost at bay.


    "It''s not your fault." Kolvar said when they were done eating.


    That was completely out of the blue. Lithoniel was too surprised to answer at first.


    Then she shook her head, "No, you were right. I should have thought about the consequences before trying to rescue the prisoners."


    "It was the right thing to do. They would have attacked anyway."


    She crossed her arms over her chest, "You can''t know that"


    "Only a fool would invade our territory during winter, Lithoniel." He reminded her, trying to emulate Rolim''s tone but failing miserably. "You did everything you could to warn the tribe."


    "Did I?" Her mocking voice echoed through the cave, "I didn''t think so. None of them survived."


    "I think they did." Kolvar contradicted her, "I''m sure our hunters were ready, able to put up a fight." He tried to cheer her up.


    She scrunched up her face, "For all the good it did them."


    "Neither the Loremaster nor Elwin are idiots. Who knows? Maybe they followed your plan and just left a few men to slow down the enemy."


    Unwittingly Lithoniel nodded. The explanation sounded reasonable. She''d found two sets of tracks. The majority of the enemy tribe had gone north, while a handful of men, probably seasoned hunters, had headed south.


    Did they chase the survivors?


    However, Lithoniel didn''t cling to that glimmer of hope. She had no intention to make the same mistake twice. Still, she decided to head south the next day.


    It was the fifteenth day since Rolim had left when they finally reached those cursed hills. They woke up early that morning, determined to cross the Hollows and ascertain if their deduction was correct. They were about to start climbing when they heard a sound coming from the top of the hill. Someone had pulled a bowstring.


    They both froze, to avoiding to make any sudden movements, well aware they were easy targets down there. A few seconds later, someone else pulled a bow until there were dozens of arrows pointed at them.


    Lithoniel was about to shout her name, hoping Kolvar was right and those hunters weren''t enemies ready to turn them into porcupines, when someone said, "Stop! They are the people we were waiting for!"


    Lithoniel and Kolvar exchanged a glance. They both recognized that voice. A couple of minutes later eight hunters marched down the hill. Most of them were short and very young, children not real hunters. The only exception was their leader.


    "Fennan?" Lithoniel asked, sounding mildly surprised when he pulled down the scarf covering his face.


    Elwin''s successor smiled at her, but his heart wasn''t in it. He looked haggard, tired. He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn''t slept for days.


    "The Loremaster was right, you came." He sounded relieved, maybe even a bit happy to see her, "We were waiting for you. We hoped you would come. Volodar told us how you rescued them."


    Her eyes lit up, surprise flashing across her face, "Volodar? Did he make it?"The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "He did. He came back five days ago together with three others. It''s thanks to them that we were able to leave the Penumbra alive."


    Lithoniel sighed with relief and smiled, "So they made it in time."


    That was good news, but the smile on her face was guarded, "Four of them came back. What about the rest?"


    Just like she feared, Fennan avoided her gaze. Lithoniel''s lips quivered, that sadness she had come to know so well clouding her features.


    Only a third of them survived.


    Tears pooled at the corner of her eyes, yet she couldn''t even cry. She knew Fennan''s small hunters were watching her, their young faces unnaturally stiff and rigid as they observed her every move. Death and deprivations had hardened them, forcing them to grow quickly to take the place of the hunters they had lost.


    "Don''t be too hard on yourself, Lithoniel. It was an impossible task to begin with. You sneaked inside the enemy encampment, avoided the enemy patrols and even succeeded in freeing them." He shook his head like he still couldn''t believe it. "No one could have done better."


    However, the "good news" wasn''t over. She could read it on his face, that pain well hidden under a facade of calm. Something much worse must have happened since they had left the tribe.


    "That''s not all, is it?" She asked, and it was Fennan''s turn to pale.


    "No, it''s not." He said quietly, "Many didn''t make it. More than one hundred people sacrificed themselves to slow down the enemy."


    Lithoniel grimaced, saddened beyond measure by the loss of life, but he wasn''t finished.


    "They used themselves as bait, waited until the enemy attacked and..." He drew in a long breath and pressed his lips together like it was hard for him to continue. She soon understood why. "...set the village on fire."


    The color drained from her face as she fought the urge to puke. Luckily Kolvar was at her side and grabbed her arm, sustaining her, otherwise she would have fallen by now.


    They were burned alive. That''s what he means.


    She was still feeling ill when she felt Kolvar squeezing her arm, "They sacrificed themselves so that the others could live." Kolvar whispered to her, talking for the first time.


    She nodded, if nothing else because she wanted him to let go of her arm. She appreciated his gesture, but her body rejected his touch. She wrinkled her nose, disgust surging through her when she remembered what he had done. Still, revulsion was better than desperation. Kolvar, of course, didn''t think that way. He flinched when she stepped back as if she had struck him.


    "They were the first, but they won''t be the last." Fennan shrewdly interjected, defusing the tension. However, the damage was done. Lithoniel barely glanced at Kolvar as he walked away.


    "As it is, I''m afraid many others will fall." Fennan continued, "We are low on supplies and traveling in this weather..." He shook his head, looking up at the skies.


    Lithoniel followed his gaze. Countless tiny white dots were falling from the skies. It was just sleet, but they both knew it could turn into a snowstorm anytime.


    "You were in a hurry. You didn''t have the time to carry all the food with you, Fennan." She tried to comfort him.


    "No, we had time" His expression hardened, anger altering his face, "we just didn''t make use of it. I didn''t believe you at first, but then we increased the patrols as you suggested and..." He sighed, "it was exactly as you predicted. Even Master said we had to leave, and yet our people still refused to believe us. We tried to convince them, but they were so stubborn..."


    "The village was their home." She said softly, automatically trying to justify them as she had done so many times in the past.


    However, it was just a habit this time. She didn''t really believe it.


    "Well," Fennan forced himself to smile, "At least you''re fine. But... " He looked past her like he was searching for someone and frowned. "...where''s Rolim?"


    Lithoniel froze, her eyes immediately welling up when she heard that name, "H-He...He...is..." She kept stuttering as she tried to say that he was gone, but she couldn''t. Those words were stuck in her throat.


    Luckily, Fennan understood anyway.


    "I''m sorry" He rasped like he was the one in pain, "Rolim and...master are with the faeries now, feasting in their green halls."


    Lithoniel gasped, "Fennan, master Elwin is..."


    "Dead." He looked ashen, but there was something else beneath the pain, an implacable anger smoldering underneath the surface.


    "How?" She asked, as tactfully as possible, "Did the enemy..."


    "No. They didn''t do it." He clenched his fists, his eyes blazing with hatred. "He was poisoned, Lithoniel."


    She swallowed, "You mean..."


    "What I mean," He spoke each word precisely, "Is that the assassin is one of us."


    "What? But...why?"


    He let out a mirthless laugh, "It was a mistake, Lithoniel. The assassin miscalculated."


    She blinked, completely confused, "Mistake?"


    "Master wasn''t the target, Lithoniel." He pinned her with his deep blue eyes, "Someone else was supposed to drink that herbal tea."


    Herbal tea?


    Tea was a valuable commodity, only found on the Eastern continent. The tea Fennan was referring to was a completely different thing, made with the withered leaves of the ebontree. Lithoniel had tried it once and it was extremely bitter.


    There is just one person who likes to drink it...


    Her blood ran cold, sweat trickling down her spine when she finally connected the dots, "The Loremaster. She was their target."


    Fennan nodded, though she didn''t really need confirmations. She trusted her gut feeling.


    But this doesn''t explain why...


    "Why did Master drink it?" Fennan asked, anticipating her question. "The Loremaster loved that tea and offered it to Master sometimes, though it was rare. Master hated it, called it an infernal concoction. However, they were old friends, the last of their generation. That''s why when the Loremaster invited him, Master always accepted, though he hated her tea." He softly laughed.


    He looked happy and carefree when he talked about his master. Lithoniel didn''t want to ruin the moment, but she had to. She cleared her throat, and Fennan''s smile faded, "Fennan, do you know who..."


    "Killed him?" He laughed bitterly, "I know who materially did the deed if that''s what you''re asking. It was Fella."


    Lithoniel''s body shook, "The Loremaster''s maid."


    It makes sense. Probably she was the one who prepared the tea. However, she had no reason to kill the Loremaster. Unless...someone forced her to do it.


    "Where is she now?" She asked to clear her suspicion.


    "She was found dead, poisoned just like Master."


    Anger seared through her. It was no longer a suspicion. She knew who did this.


    "He removed the only witness." She whispered.


    "He?" Fennan narrowed his eyes, his eyes boring into her, "So you know who did it."


    Lithoniel met his gaze head-on. She didn''t have the time to play games, "The Loremaster was the target, Fennan." She repeated. "You know who did it too."


    "Garluin."He spat the name out like an insult. He didn''t seem surprised. She was.


    "You knew?"


    His expression hardened, "Of course I knew. And no, I don''t have any proof" He grudgingly admitted guessing her next question, "It happened just after Volodar came back. The village was in chaos at the time, and as you well know, the place of murder went up in smoke. Besides, there is no witness...and no body." No body?


    "Did you..." She scratched her head, looking a bit awkward, "...cremate him?"


    Fennan nodded stiffly, "I had no choice, you know the law. Besides, Master was very religious. He believed that the body is just an empty vessel, a burden anchoring the soul to this plane of existence."


    Lithoniel''s expression softened, "You did the right thing."


    "He always wanted to go south, see the Sun. If only I were with him..."


    "Don''t do this to yourself. It''s not your fault." She tried to persuade him, but Fennan''s answer was completely unexpected.


    "Is that what you tell yourself at night, Lithoniel?" His lips drew back in a snarl, "Because I know you don''t really believe it."


    She recoiled, clutching her chest. She knew he was hurting, but she couldn''t believe he would say that, and to her of all people.


    "I''m sorry..." Fennan grimaced, maybe realizing what he''d said. "I didn''t mean to..."


    "I understand." She answered, but her voice was flat, unemotional.


    They remained silent for a while. Then Lithoniel cleared her throat, "What about our enemies?"


    Fennan seemed relieved when she changed the subject, "They won''t chase us. They are no fools, Lithoniel. They knew they lost their chance when we left the Penumbra. Besides, only a madman would go to war now. They''ll wait for the thaw and expect we''ll do the same."


    Yet, despite everything he had just said, he was grimacing.


    "Talk, Fennan." She was tired, cold, and frankly, she had enough of him, "What is it?"


    "It''s Tinesia. She is pushing the Loremaster to declare a blood feud. She wanted to organize a counterattack."


    She gasped, "Now? Is she out of her mind? No, wait." She rubbed her temples, realizing something was amiss, "This isn''t Tinesia''s idea, is it? I can see Garluin''s hand in this. He is using her as a spearhead. But why would he..."


    "He knows the Loremaster won''t do it. Declaring a blood feud would be a disaster for us. We will have to march back and with this weather..." He shook his head, "It''s insane."


    "Alright, so he is just stirring up unrest." However as soon as she said it, she knew that couldn''t be the case. There had to be a reason if he was doing this, yet no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn''t find it.


    "I don''t understand." She looked confused. "What does he hope to achieve? The people aren''t stupid. They''ll never support this insanity."


    "They are angry, Lithoniel." Something of his master''s behavior must have rubbed off on him because he sounded precise but a bit patronizing like he was teaching to a child half of her age, "They lost their homes, their families, friends...everything they cared about. Many of them are so blinded by rage, they don''t care if they die. They want to march on the Great Penumbra, and they get upset if someone tries to get in the way of their righteous revenge."


    Then it dawned on her.


    "The Loremaster. You are talking about the Loremaster. He is still targeting her." Her breath quickened, "Garluin wants to undermine her authority, maybe even ruin her reputation."


    "And it''s working. People are already saying she is too old to lead the tribe in these troubled times. They are pushing her to choose a successor. Lithoniel, " He leaned closer, "they want her to step aside."


    Lithoniel shuddered as she imagined who her successor would be.


    "I''ll never allow him to be the Loremaster." Fennan promised, his scrawny body shaking with fury, "I''ll kill him first."


    That wasn''t just an idle threat.


    He really wants to kill him. He will act...soon.


    After the stunt Fennan had just pulled, Lithoniel was tempted to let him do it. However, she didn''t believe he could really pull it off, and she wasn''t angry enough to want him dead.


    Lithoniel sighed, gently grabbed his arm, "Fennan, I know how you feel but..."


    Fennan tensed, a muscle in his jaw twitching, "But?"


    "You know this isn''t the right time."


    Fennan stared at her for a long minute, but Lithoniel didn''t flinch or look away.


    Then he let out a breath, the muscles in his arms relaxing, "You''re right. We have to settle down first, make sure everyone is safe."


    "...and fed." Lithoniel added. "Winter is close and our food supply..."


    Fennan didn''t seem too worried about that, "That''s not a problem, Lithoniel. We just have to reach the Asp Ridge, and we''ll be fine."


    Lithoniel furrowed her brow, "What do you mean?"


    "After the enemy tribe attacked us, we followed your advice and sent some men to the Asp Ridge to scout the area and find a suitable place for a new settlement. Our scouts met someone there."


    "The local tribe?" She guessed, "Did they allow us to move into their territory?"


    "They did, but it''s not just that, Lithoniel. They want to merge with us."


    She frowned, "I don''t understand. Why would they accept us?"


    "They have no other choice. They lost a lot of people in a short time. Their tribe is in danger, and they need more men to survive. "


    That made sense. The Asp Ridge was notoriously dangerous. She knew that well.


    "What kind of danger? A beast tide?"


    "Worse." His face darkened, his mouth twisting in a contemptuous sneer, "Humans."

 Chapter 29 - Egil

    Egil


    Embersea.


    That''s how the people who lived in the Wildlands used to call the realm beyond the river. The worshippers of the Lord of the Morning believed that the land itself was cursed. They claimed it was the scourge God unleashed upon the elves as punishment for their sins, a way to strip them of their pride. Egil had never thought too much about it. As long as they stayed away from the Wildlands, the White Gowns could say whatever they wanted.


    Why should he, a proud warrior of house Strom, care about it? The Lord of the Morning wasn''t his God. He worshiped the ancestors, men of flesh and blood who had gained everlasting fame fighting and killing their enemies in the field of battle. Yet, even without considering his personal beliefs, why would a God continue to punish such a wretched race?


    Of course, the Temple had other ideas.


    The cataclysm that had wrecked their lands, pushed an entire race to the brink of extinction and left the rest of the elves to wander in a dead land, was merely the beginning. Half of the worshippers believed that the elves should be left alone to their torment, while the other half wanted to finish what God had begun, exterminating them once and for all.


    However, both sides agreed on one thing: the elves had to stay in their cage. They were an impure race. They couldn''t be allowed to leave the Embersea and spread their corruption outside, not even as slaves.


    Egil used to dismiss such notions as superstitions, to scorn the men that believed in such nonsense deeming them gullible fools or fanatics. However, looking at the grim faces of his men marching on the rocky bank of the Brimstone''s river, he wasn''t sure of that anymore. He had left his demesne of Strom End three months ago leading the best Warband the Wildlands have ever seen. Five hundred men he had chosen among the best shield brothers of his host, warriors whose only purpose was to plunder, fight and die as any real son of Oril should.


    They were warriors forged by countless battles, not levies drafted to fill the ranks of an army. They wore chainmail, carried steel weapons and displayed their rings with pride. They had departed with the sound of warhorns when the first snow already lapped upon the highest peaks. At that moment Egil should have recognized the signs for what they really were: an omen, forecasting the end of Summer.


    It wasn''t the only warning he''d received.


    "Summer is the time for war, not winter!" His old friend Thorvald had said, but even if his words rekindled Egil''s fears, he''d chosen to ignore them, sure of the strength of his men and his capability as a leader, the undefeated Warlord.


    Yet, despite everything, the campaign had begun under the best auspices.


    They had traveled fifty leagues from their stronghold on the slopes of the Dawn mountains to the Pine Hills, the ancestral lands of the Lindbergs. The moral of his men had been high, and laughs and songs, talk of glory and plunder had circled around the campfires at night.


    They''d crossed the murky waters of the Brimstone to travel across the Black waste, a plagued plain scorched by fire and sudden dust storms. However, it was when they''d reached the Asp Ridge, that huge snake slithering in the middle of the Emberrsea, that the things really took a turn for the worse. They were scrambling on the mountain''s crest when the snowstorm struck without warning. They''d lost half a dozen horses falling down a ravine, but it was the icy bite of the wind blowing like a sharp blade that had reaped the first human victim.


    That and the same people they were hunting, the elves. In less than a week, Egil had lost more than twenty men because of the elves relentless ambushes. He and his men had pursued their prey inside that stone maze, losing men at every turn. The elves were like shadows, elusive and sly, hiding in the most recondite clefts to lure them into impossible battles. When an avalanche had claimed the lives of a half-dozen men, Thorvald had advised him to turn back, that even rocks could be used as a weapon by the cunning hunter. His old friend had suggested, or at least implied, that the elves were the architects behind all disasters they''d had met since the beginning.


    Arrows and ambushes were only the most obvious threat, not the real one. The mountain itself was against them. Egil, of course, had dismissed everything his friend had said as superstitions. Thorvald was a Pathseeker, one of the few men who dared to face the dangers of the Embersea without an army accompanying him. Egil respected the old man but never shared his beliefs.


    Yet, it was a fact he had been constantly outsmarted by someone he considered weak, merely a step above an animal. He had been unable to accept it. Gradually, his eagerness to catch the elves had turned into something different: a growing obsession no different from madness. He was like a foaming beast. He could see his prey, almost touch it, but he wasn''t able to catch it.


    However, despite his efforts, it was only a week later when the elves finally stopped running. Egil had thought that he cornered them and they were forced into a last stand by his relentless pursuit. However, he''d soon realized that they''d stopped escaping only because there was no need to run anymore. They had stalled his Warband long enough and gave their tribe the chance to escape. The battle that followed was merely a small skirmish. The elves were ill-equipped with bows and knives, and they simply didn''t have the means to oppose an army in open battle. Egil and his shield-brothers had won, but it was an empty and bitter victory. Too many warriors had fallen. To make things worse, most of the elves they''d captured were old people, weakened by the cold and deprivations.


    They were just burdens and that why the elves had abandoned them. Egil should have done the same, but he couldn''t leave them behind and render the death of his warriors even more useless than it already was. Half of them died during the return journey while the value of the remaining elves as slaves was barely enough to cover the expenses of the campaign.


    The price of pride they say, but whose? Egil thought as he watched the miserable figures of the elves marching in shackles at the end of the column. They were strange creatures, short and slim with sharp faces and ridiculous pointed ears. Did they feel the same way after the cataclysm? Guilt was something new to him, something he seldom felt.


    It was way worse than the shame of defeat, because no matter who won, that was a defeat for him. He couldn''t help but think about what Thorvald had said before departing from Strom End.


    "Mark my words Egil Strom: pride and arrogance will be your downfall. You are too used to winning, but there are things even a Warlord can''t beat. You Alhstroms are all proudful and not without reason, but bringing your host to the Embersea so close to Winter is madness!"


    "I am not an Alhstrom" His curt reply had been.


    "Strom or Alhstrom, same blood, and same breed. Even a mule has more common sense than you!"


    You were right, old friend.


    As he rode his horse, his back a bit more hunched than before, Egil surveyed what was left of his Warband. Ashes and snow were falling from the skies, the rotten stench of the Brimstone permeating the air. Even during winter those murky waters never froze. On the contrary, the river always boiled and the vapors produced by it, condensed in a thick mist enveloping most of the two hundred leagues that divided the Embersea from the Wildlands.


    "Warlord" Thorvald said, his horse trotting until it stopped at Egil''s side.


    The Pathmaker had seen more than sixty winters, but his knotted beard was still thick like a bush, his skin tough like the bark of old but stubborn wood. He was well aware he couldn''t escape time, yet refused to surrender to it. He was a fighter, the old friend of his, and he was on the warpath.


    He scowled at him before pointing at the parapets of the five meters stone wall looming on the other side of the bridge, "We reached the gate." He informed him, doing his duty as his second in command before galloping away, returning to the end of the column.


    He will need time to forgive me. If he ever will. After the battle with the elves, Egil and the Pathmaker hadn''t talked unless absolutely necessary. Thorvald blamed him, and unfortunately, he was right. It was all his fault.


    The column marched in silence, and no song was played when the remaining shield brothers crossed over the bridge and approached the Brimgate, the old fort separating the realm of men from the most dangerous land of the known world.


    "Open the gates!" Shouted one of the men standing on the parapets.


    The guards sprung into action, the portcullis slowly raising when two of them turned the winch, lifting the counterweights. The tattered banner of the Thunderbolt didn''t flutter in the wind when Egil and the Warband crossed the gate. There was a stifling immobility in the air like the wind itself knew about their defeat.


    Egil gritted his teeth. The shame he was feeling was branded on his skin, but he couldn''t leave the wound to fester, the loss of trust to become permanent. Therefore, he stood tall and pretended nothing had happened. Maybe if he was able to convince himself he was still the same man, the undefeated Warlord everyone feared and respected, his men would believe it too.


    His expression changed, stiffening like his entire face was frozen, stern and harsh like winters in these lands. He looked at the fort with distaste, noticing another piece of the wall had fallen during their absence.


    Up close the fortifications were less formidable than they''d seemed at first. The fort''s walls were crumbling, and the stone blocks fallen from a nearby tower filled the yard. It seemed abandoned, and the guards, maybe two dozen men or so, standing on the parapets were completely insufficient to defend the realm.


    However, Egil knew that defending the fort wasn''t the point. The Brimgate had been built nine hundred years ago, and in all that time the elves had never attacked. Its function wasn''t to keep the elves outside but to prevent the lords of the realm to hunt them without discrimination.


    After all, a good shepherd knows you can shear a sheep many times, but you can skin it only once. Elves were valuable slaves, and house Alhstrom had no intention to lose their gold mine at the hands of greedy lords or Temple zealots.


    A youth approached Egil when he dismounted. The Warlord looked at him with revulsion. The man was young, beardless like a southerner and scared like a little girl. He had no rings on his fingers or trophy to remember his feats. According to their customs, he wasn''t a warrior but a boy and yet, he was the commander of the fort.


    "This is a disgrace." One of his warriors grumbled, and Egil slightly nodded, completely agreeing with him.


    Henrich Lind clutched his fur closer like he was freezing, but it was just the beginning of winter, a warm day in the Wildlands.


    He is soft and flaccid like a Fyollum''s whore.


    Egil spat, immediately taking a sip from his flask, the mead washing the bitter taste in his mouth.


    "Lord Strom" Henrich Lind said with some hesitation, glancing at the men at arms behind Egil.


    "The horses need fodder and my men a hot meal..." Egil trailed off.


    How should I call him? He had no intention to call him commander. That''s for sure.


    "Of course my lord. The Brimgate is yours."


    Egil twisted his mouth as the commander curtsied like a Summermer lordling. While the guards were busy taking care of the horses, Henrich Lind glanced at him as if he wanted to ask something.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    "My lord, where is the rest of your..." The commander gulped when Egil glowered at him, cowering like he was about to strike him. Egil just stared at him, but that simple glance almost turned his bowels into water.


    "Uh?" Egil grunted, "Did you say something?"


    Lind shook his head repeatedly, wiping the sweat off his brow when Egil took a step back. The nervous youth wasn''t short, but the Warlord towered over him.


    "My lord" He panted. It seemed he was still short of breath, trying to regain control of his emotions, "A missive arrived for you when you were beyond the river."


    A missive? Here?


    Egil frowned. A raid beyond the wall could last several months, and his departure wasn''t a secret.


    What''s so urgent to send it here?


    The frown on his square face deepened when he removed the red wax.


    Lord Egil Strom, Warlord of Strom End


    Tumultuous storms approach the Lands of Warriors, and a grim shadow looms over us all, threatening our very way of life.


    It employs deception and ploy, whispers and tricks instead of honest steel. Now more than ever the sons of Oril must stand together against the common foe.


    We invite you to join us in the Halls of Pines at winter peak.


    Don''t linger Undefeated Warlord! It will be a gathering of heroes this land had never seen since the days of the Cataclysm!


    An ominous feeling seeped inside Egil''s heart when he looked at the heraldic crests. Daalgard, Kaalund, Dahl, Lindberg, Gilwood, Hartway. Except the BellBornes and Alhstroms most of the great houses of the Wildlands were there. That wasn''t the only problem.


    It''s too vague! Warriors don''t talk that way! Most of the lords can''t even write!


    This wasn''t their way. Learned people were scorned in these lands. What troubled him most was that drawing at the end.


    It was the Oaktree and thunderbolt of Alhstrom house, a crest he knew all too well. However, something was different. The tree: it was burning.


    Is it the work of a Glorysing? Snowflakes fell from his braided blonde beard when he decisively shook his head.


    A Glorysing could write a thing like this if needed, but Egil knew it was extremely unlikely. Proud like peacocks, and almost as mysterious as Pathmakers, Glorysings were warriors as much as they were storytellers and wardens of their traditions. They would never lower themselves to do something like this. Unless, of course, the Brotherhood was involved and both Glorysings and Pathmakers had decided to take a stance on the silent battle raging in the Wildlands, the internal struggle that was devouring the realm from the inside. That was a disturbing thought. However, there was just one way to know for sure. He raised his head and looked for Thorvald, only to realize the old man was already walking toward him.


    Probably he''d realized something was wrong and he wasn''t the only one. Many of his men had stopped unloading their horses and were nervously looking at him.


    "What are you looking at?" He barked at them, "Get back to work!"


    Egil didn''t wait to see if they obeyed his orders. He grabbed Henrich''s arm and squeezed it, his fingers like a pincer as they twisted the metal of his vambrace.


    "Find us someplace safe from prying eyes." He hissed.


    The commander winced in pain but showed incredible readiness. He nodded twice before leading him and Thorvald into the barracks.


    "What is it?" Thorvald asked Egil when they walked through the door, the warmth of the hearth welcoming them after a long journey in the cold. Egil looked around. There were some guards resting on their straw beds, but they were far from them.


    "Read it." He said and handed the letter to Thorvald. He searched his old friend''s face for clues, but there was only dread in the older man''s green eyes. The contents of the letter had spooked him.


    He didn''t know.


    Egil sighed with relief. Only the members really knew about the inner workings of the Brotherhood, but Egil was sure that Thorvald''s position in the organization was quite high.


    Which mean the Brotherhood isn''t involved.


    Still, that didn''t make the threat any less dangerous. He needed to know more.


    "When?"He asked the commander, and Lind, who was looking at them with curiosity, jumped like he was struck by lightning, "When did the missive arrive?" Egil repeated, approaching him.


    "T-three w-weeks ago my l-lord" He stammered, lowering his head.


    "Look at me" Egil ordered, and the man raised his head, his dark green eyes shifting to avoid Egil''s gaze.


    The blood of the warriors is thin in this one. Probably that was why he was sent here in the first place. House Lind was small and weak, but they were related by blood to the powerful Lindbergs of the Pinewood.


    And their current lord is the warden of the Brimgate. Egil remembered.


    There had to be some reason if a cadet son like him hadn''t joined Strom Host as tradition dictated and instead chose an empty command like this one.


    Probably the Lindbergs didn''t want him to bring shame to the house. The boy is a coward.


    "What did happen in the realm during my absence?"He asked.


    Henrich Lind trembled like a leaf, "A-Ann Copperton ascended the throne."


    Egil waved his hand, signaling him to keep talking. The roses of the south had lost their thorns long ago. The coronation of a puppet queen was irrelevant to him.


    "Marulf Kaalund led an offensive against the pirates of Redtails for the control of the strait. He killed the..."


    "What else?" Egil interrupted him.


    "F-forgive me my lord, but I d-don''t know anything else.." Henrich stuttered, but Egil noticed that he was avoiding his gaze. It wasn''t just out of fear. He was still withholding something.


    "What is it?"


    Lind hesitated, "L-lord Egil, they are only voices. I don''t know if.."


    "Spit it out!"Egil thundered, and many guards turned to look at them, yet no one tried to interfere.


    Egil snorted.


    The Commander is a rabbit. What do I expect from his men?


    "I-It''s Lord Alfric!" Egil frowned when he heard his shrill voice, "It seems he granted the Temple''s army safe passage."


    Egil and Thorvald exchanged a glance, concern and anger showing on their faces.


    "That''s not all, is it?" He clenched his fists, "Talk!"


    "T-They say their knights are gathering for..." Henrich swallowed hard, "...a Holy raid. They say...they are coming here to exterminate the elves." His voice trailed off.


    A holy raid? And my uncle agreed to that? Impossible. Egil couldn''t believe it. No, he didn''t want to believe it.


    Egil noticed Henrich was still around and grunted, "Give us some space, boy."


    The "commander" of the Brimgate immediately ran away without a shred of dignity. Egil had no time to think about him at the moment.


    "Do you think it''s true?" He asked Thorvald.


    "This is not the first concession the Highlord makes." The Pathmaker admitted, confirming his fears, "...but it could be the last."


    Egil''s jaw twinged, "They won''t do it."


    "There is a reason if they summoned you." Thorval pointed at the drawing of the burning tree and then went to the window. The Pathmaker looked out and Egil followed his gaze, his heart thudding. Thorvald was looking at his banner, the Thunderbolt of Strom House.


    His old friend pinned him with his eyes, "And you know why. You have known for a long time."


    Egil didn''t like what his friend was trying to imply, "You forget my uncle has a daughter...and a son."


    Thorvald''s face darkened, "You know what kind of man Thandruil is. He can''t rule. He must not be allowed to rule."


    That sounded a lot like treason, but Egil didn''t object.


    "And Alva" Thorvald shook his head, " is a woman. She can inherit but only if his brother dies and..."


    "We can do that." He said with a bloodthirsty grin.


    "...and she has to shed blood on the battlefield." Thorvald continued like he hadn''t heard him, "Alva is a good girl, but..."


    "Be careful what you say, old friend." Egil gently warned him, his tone deceptively soft, "You''re talking about my little sister."


    "Cousin." Thorvald corrected him, without missing a beat, "And you know she will never be a shieldmaiden."


    The two friends stared at each other for a long minute, but it was Egil who averted his gaze. He hated it, but Thorvald was right. Alva had a lot of good qualities, but she was no warrior. Her body had always been weak, and though she was exceptionally smart, she wasn''t cruel enough to rule the Wildlands.


    Egil gnashed his teeth, "We have to stop them."


    "If they sent this..." Thorvald showed the letter to him, "they''are not just planning it. They are prepared to do it, Egil. They won''t change their minds."


    "I have to try."


    "What if you fail? Will you accept their offer?" His friend asked him for the umpteenth time, but Egil''s answer was always the same.


    "No, I won''t. And if they refuse... He took a deep breath, "I''ll have to convince my uncle to deny them passage."


    Thorvald snorted, "That''s even harder. Your uncle is even more stubborn than you. Besides, Alfric Alhstrom is a lot of things, but he is not the kind of man who breaks his word."


    Egil grimaced, well aware his friend was right.


    "I don''t know why the Highlord is trying to get close to the Summermers, but he must have a pretty good reason." Thorval continued, "He knows most of his own lords are against him."


    "Right! They are against him!" Egil slapped his knee, "And that''s why..."


    "He can''t deny them passage, Egil." Thorvald interrupted him, his gloomy voice sending shivers down his spine, "It would be a slap in the face and would ruin all the work Alfric had done in the past years. He''ll never do it."


    "Maybe that''s what the other lords need. A clean break." He argued, but his protests were getting weaker.


    "He''ll never accept it." Thorvald repeated, his tone categorical.


    Egil sighed, "Fine, I''ll try to convince the lords first. It''s not like it''s the first time I''ve done it."


    Thorval frowned, "True, you''ve used your prestige to calm them before. However, they were just a few disgruntled lords. This" He waved the letter before him, "is a rebellion. Moreover, soon everyone will know what happened beyond the river."


    "Maybe" He admitted, his lips curling into a sly smile, "but they don''t know that yet, right?"


    "Blood of the ancestors!"Thorvald mumbled under his breath." You, damn idiot..."


    He kept cursing for a good minute. Egil just stood there and waited, a corner of his mouth quirking up, "So, will you help me?" He asked in the end.


    Thorvald froze for a second or two and then sighed, "I will, but I''m not doing this for you." He specified, "I don''t want a civil war."


    Egil smiled, "Whatever your reasons are, I''m happy to have you by my side, old friend."


    Thorvald scoffed, but he seemed pleased. Egil was glad that he could count on him. The Pathmaker was a formidable warrior, and Egil knew that he could trust him.


    However, soon he remembered what his uncle had done. His expression sobered immediately, "I still can''t believe my uncle would do something like this." He mumbled.


    Thorvald nodded understandingly, "Since his second wife, Eliana, died, thirteen years ago, Alfric changed. Many say he didn''t worship the ancestors anymore, but the..."


    Egil let out a harsh breath, "Don''t say it." He couldn''t bear to hear those words. "My uncle is not an apostate...or a traitor."


    "He allowed the White Gowns to preach in our lands." Thorvald reminded him, his tone a bit softer this time.


    "I admit I don''t understand my uncle''s motives, but this...this is different. He''s always been very cautious, and the changes he introduced extremely gradual. But granting safe passage to a foreign army to butcher the elves?" He decisively shook his head, "No, that''s not like him."


    Thorvald stroked his beard, "Do you think they are just rumors?"


    Egil grimaced, "No, if it were just hearsay, the lords wouldn''t do something so drastic. It must be true."


    "But you still can''t believe it."


    Egil didn''t answer him. There was no need. He and Thorvald looked outside the window, watching the malnourished elves pouring through the gates, the living testimony of his failure.


    Egil''s eyes fell on an elf, who was lying motionless in a cage. His eyes were closed and his face very pale like he was sick, but he was younger and much more muscular than the other slaves. Actually, other than his ears, he looked human, albeit a bit short.


    "That one" He pointed at him. "Who is he?" He asked Thorvald.


    The old Pathmaker glanced at him and frowned, "I don''t know. It''s not one of our slaves."


    Egil was curious and waved his hand to the commander who was leaning against the wall, close to the door.


    "Warlord" Lind bowed, smiling like they were best friends, "How can I help you?"


    "Do you know him?" He pointed at the elf, without wasting time.


    The commander nodded eagerly, "His story is quite interesting. My sister married in the Hartway family and..."


    Egil''s expression hardened, "I didn''t ask you about your family business...or your connections."


    Lind''s smile slipped, "My lord, I was just trying to explain why he is here. Some fishermen found him floating close to the Brimstone and..."


    "They found him in the Frozen sea?" Thorvald took another look at the elf, showing interest for the first time, "Winter is just beginning, but it''s a wonder he is still alive."


    "Right?" Lind said with enthusiasm.


    "Wait a second" Egil interjected, "Hartway? The Frozen sea? That''s hundreds of leagues away. How did he end up here?"


    "My sister bought him." He answered like it was the most normal thing in the world. Yet, it was still illegal to buy slaves in the kingdom. They could capture the elves, but according to the law, they had to sell them outside the realm, "She wrote about him in one of her letters. So I..."


    Egil immediately understood what happened, his face darkening as he scowled at him, "You asked your sister to bring him here to have some fun."


    The commander realized he''d slipped up, and tried to justify himself, "My lord, we guard the gate, but none of us had ever seen an elf....."


    Idiot.


    "Enough." He raised his hand, "I''ll buy him from you." He threw him a heavy purse of coins, "This is enough, isn''t it?"


    Lind''s face contorted. He looked uncomfortable, even a bit irritated, "Warlord...he belongs to my sister, I don''t think..."


    "Right?!" Egil repeated, raising his voice a bit.


    Lind immediately retreated, "A-As...as you wish my lord."


    "Good lad." He smiled for the first time, but Henrich just shuddered when he patted him on the back, "Now, tell me. Can he speak the common tongue? Do you know his name?"


    Lind recovered quickly, maybe realizing that a slave, even a valuable one, was a small price to pay if in return he could forge some kind of relationship with Egil, "Yes, he can speak it, though not well. And about his name..."He scratched his head. "It should be something like...Moril or maybe Lomir."


    "Lomir?" Egil frowned. It didn''t sound right. "He seems half dead, but let''s get him on a horse." He said to Thorvald.


    The old Pathmaker raised an eyebrow, "Do you want to bring him with us?


    Egil shrugged, "He is younger and healthier than those bag of bones we''ve found on the other side of the river."


    "You want to show him around like a trophy." Thorvald accused.


    Egil didn''t even try to deny it, "Don''t worry I have no intention to keep him."


    "You didn''t capture him yourself." Thorvald reminded him. "He is not your trophy."


    Egil sighed, "I know, old friend, I know. But I need all the help I can get to convince the lords."


    "I''m not blaming you, lad. This elf is unusual, a good trophy, but if they discover you lied..."


    "I know the consequences, Thorvald." He raised his voice, maybe a bit more than necessary, and Thorvald stiffened.


    "I''m sorry, old friend" He immediately apologized, "but I have no choice. I have to take the risk."


    Thorval shrugged like he didn''t care, but his mouth was set in a hard line, "As long as you know what you''re doing."


    That''s when Henrich Lind clapped his hands, "My lord! I remembered it!"


    "What is it now?" Egil sounded bothered.


    However, Lind was too excited to realize Egil had enough of him, "The elf''s name! I remembered it!"


    Egil widened his eyes a bit, "So?" Egil urged, "What''s his name?"


    "Rolim!" He exclaimed, "His name is Rolim."

 Chapter 30 - Decisions

    Ann


    The sunrays streamed through the window of the study, filling the room with a red blinding light for just an instant. Then the sun left, leaving the world in the dark. A flock of servants hurried to light the candles, placing them on the oak table standing in the middle of the wide but bare room.


    Bare, because there was no decoration or sumptuous arabesque - nothing. The room looked spartan, unadorned and essential. It was located in the west wing, a part of the castle built almost a thousand years ago when the human race was on the brink of the abyss. The people of that era had to use all their energy to stay alive. They had no time for trivialities. That''s exactly why Ann had chosen this place. She wanted to transmit the same message, the same sense of urgency to her aides, the few people she could trust in these troubled times.


    She sat on a padded chair at the head of the table, examining ancient parchments, and new documents - everything that could give her an edge over her foes. Unfortunately, it wasn''t going well.


    "There is nothing here! Nothing!" She rose, abruptly slamming her hand on the table, giving free rein to her anger. She''d kept that rage at bay for years, but she couldn''t do that anymore.


    She knew many would be surprised to see her that way. Unlike her sister, Ann Copperton was unremarkable, meek and gentle like a scared mouse. The perfect puppet for the greedy Highlords.


    For more than half of her life, she''d pretended to be someone else, holding her tongue and keeping her head down when the nobles laughed at her family. She''d bided her time, waiting for the right moment to enact her revenge, take back what was rightfully hers. She had waited long enough.


    "What''s the use of knowing who married the ancestor of the Valenford house?" She threw a parchment on the floor in a fit of pique, "Or that House Lonesdhal and Madsen are quarreling, over some isolated village in the middle of nowhere?" She tossed another paper away.


    Two of the men seated around the table shifted uncomfortably in their seats, but not the third one. He was an old man, his face almost as yellow as the ancient parchments scattered all across the table. He must have been a tall man in his youth, but now he was curved and twisted. He kept rubbing his veiled eyes, trying to focus, but without success. Adept Adolar they called him, and he had been her teacher, and her mother''s teacher before that.


    "Learn from the past, princess. There is no greater master of life than history." Adept Adolar croaked, dispensing his pearl of wisdom.


    A pity that it wasn''t really useful in this case.


    Her eyes bored into Rowley, the man on her left. He looked uncomfortable. He kept looking back, his elusive brown eyes dwelling on the door as if he expected someone would suddenly rush in and plunge a dagger in his back.


    Anna cleared her throat, "Rowley, where are we with the councilors?"


    Rowley glanced at her, just for a short instant, before averting his gaze. Anna frowned. She didn''t like the man. No, "like" wasn''t the right word. She simply didn''t trust him. She knew nothing about his past and those long dark cloaks Rowley used to wear, the way he looked at the door, and above all, his profession, were suspicious. He was her Spymaster, and she hated spies. She was surrounded by them. Every maid and butler, every courtier and noble around her could be one. Besides, if there was one thing she''d learned growing up at court, it was that a man who doesn''t look in your eyes is a man who has something to hide.


    "Your majesty" Rowley bowed, "I sent my men to dig up information about the councilors. Except for the captain of the royal guard, of course." He said, glancing at Duncan.


    The captain of the royal guard slightly bowed. Anna looked at him before nodding, urging Rowley to continue. The right to nominate the captain of the royal guard was one of the few privileges the queen had left.


    "Wayne Decker, the commander of the fleet and Edward Kinshaw, the minister of commerce, are both vassals of the Anchorvys."


    Anna didn''t even blink. Theoretically, House Anchorvy and the merchant guild were two separate entities. In reality, it was a cadet of House Anchorvy that had established the merchant guild seven hundred years ago and the family still controlled it.


    "Lycus Florianus is the lord treasurer for House Avernus and Ser Robert Godfrey the Great Marshal for House Alhstrom. Bishop Almericus is the Court Chaplain for the Temple of Dawn and...Clifton is the Chamberlain."


    Her face hardened when Rowley mentioned the Chamberlain, "Clifton?" She asked, noticing that Rowley hadn''t mentioned his surname, "What about his house?"


    "My queen..." Rowley faked a cough, "He doesn''t have one. He was a troubadour and...a comedian before coming to Fivestar."


    "Comedian?" She repeated, unable to understand what he meant at first. Then she turned scarlet, her lips drawing back in a snarl, "A buffoon?" She hissed.


    Rowley squirmed in his seat, confirming her theory.


    She was nearly afraid to ask, but she had to, "Who? Who does he answer to?"


    "Highlord Bernard Summermere" It wasn''t Rowley to answer, but Duncan who remained silent at her side so far.


    So it''s true. It''s the Summermers'' nominee.


    "And the High Cleric together with him, no doubt." Rowley interjected.


    However, the old Adept chose that moment to wake up.


    "The High Cleric is not a man to use sneaky tactics." He contradicted him before glancing at Ann, "He is not your friend, and he will never be, but he has nothing to gain by shaming the crown publicly," He looked more clear-headed now.


    "The Temple had done it for centuries." Ann objected, fighting the urge to scream.


    "Perhaps. But remember, the Temple is not as united as you think. There are factions within it. I''m afraid this is the work of someone much more radical than the High Cleric. Maybe..."


    Duncan, Rowley, and Ann stayed quiet, carefully listening to Adolar''s words, but the old man didn''t talk anymore. Ann awkwardly smiled as she realized her old mentor had already closed his eyes and was snoring.


    Rowley cleared his throat, "Maybe the High Cleric is not directly involved," He admitted, though he didn''t seem convinced, "But without a doubt the Summermeres are."


    Ann looked at Duncan. "Duncan?"


    The Captain shrugged, "Right now it''s hard to say, my queen. We need to know more."


    Ann closed her eyes and took a deep breath. They were full of determination when she reopened them, "I want the Chamberlain followed, day and night. No matter where he goes or who he meets. I want to know everything about him." She ordered Rowley.


    He bowed, "Of course, my Queen."


    Ann raised her chin, "What about the other councilors? Have you discovered anything useful?"


    Rowley scratched his black beard, "As your majesty knows, all the councilors came from far away. They are cadets, sons of minor houses. I suspect the Highlords did this on purpose. They want to make it harder for us to find something about them."


    "The councilors are expendable, easy to control. They have no connections or supporters here." Duncan added.


    Rowley nodded, "That too."


    Ann rubbed her temples. This meeting wasn''t going as she''d expected.


    "So you''ve got nothing." She said, unable to hide her disappointment.


    "I need some time." Her spymaster reluctantly admitted, "But I am sure that you will find the information I discovered about the Great Marshal very interesting, your majesty" Rowley smiled deviously.


    Ann raised a brow. "Robert Godfrey?"


    "Yes, your majesty. Ser Robert Godfrey is a landless knight and owes all his fortune, including the appointment as Great Marshal, to this wife, Rowena Bellborne"


    "The Bellbornes of Redhood Creek" Duncan said, resting his thumb and index finger on his chin.


    The captain of the royal guard was at least ten years older than Ann''s eighteen, but he looked much younger, no older than twenty-five years old. He was clad in plate armor, muscular and tall like a Wildlander.


    She slipped him a curious glance, "Isn''t that a powerful house of the Wildlands?"


    The knight nodded, "Yes, my queen. They made a fortune thanks to the slave trade, though now they seem more apt to kill the elves than enslaving them."


    Ann arched her eyebrows, "Kill them? Don''t they worship the ancestors anymore?"


    "They are one of the few houses that converted to our faith. They worship the Lord of the Morning now."


    Ann grimaced. That wasn''t a good sign. "What about Ser Godfrey? What do you have on him?"


    A smile danced on Rowley''s lips, "A secret that could destroy him." He dramatically replied, "It seems that the distance from his wife pushed Ser Robert into the loving arms of one of Madame Emony''s girls."


    Duncan snorted, "That''s it? Half the men in this town visit that brothel, including many pious priests."


    "Fornication is a venial sin...for a man." Ann agreed bitterly.


    She ground her jaw. A venial sin for a man, but a mortal sin for a woman.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Rowley''s smile didn''t falter, "But those people don''t share the same, let''s call them, particular tastes. Ser Robert''s favorite is not a common wench, but a young girl with a pair of adorable pointed ears."


    "An elf?" Ann whispered, struggling to believe it. It seemed too good to be true.


    "Yes," Rowley confirmed, his smile widening, "and like all the Temple''s believers, the Bellbornes would see the act of consorting with an elf as an abomination of nature."


    Duncan looked thoughtful, "Ser Robert would be ruined."


    "Killed, most likely." Rowley corrected him, smiling without a shred of empathy, "The punishment for a common man found to..." He faked a cough, "bed an elf is castration, but Godfrey is a nobleman. The Temple would burn him at the stake."


    Ann took a deep breath, "If that''s true...we have him."


    "My Queen, three votes aren''t enough." Duncan dutifully reminded, "You need five votes to control the council."


    Ann smiled, "I know, Duncan. Don''t worry."


    "There is another matter, my queen" Rowley butted in, "Morris Anchorvy and his wife, your sister Helena, requested a private audience."


    Ann thought a bit about it before nodding, "I will meet them soon."


    "And Jacob Summermere, the Highlord''s heir, sent a missive." Rowley went on. "His younger son has never visited Fivestar and seems quite eager to leave Symongale and...to meet you, my queen." Rowley''s allusion was so blatant that there was no need to ask why the young Summermer wanted to see her.


    Ann gripped the arm of her chair, "I will be...delighted to offer the kind knight and his retinue hospitality, of course." The words struggled to come out of her mouth, but she chose them with care, well aware that the scribe was recording everything.


    Then she straightened, looking at her aides, "Is that all?"


    "There are some alarming tidings from the Wildlands, your highness" This time it was Duncan to speak.


    Ann tensed. Duncan was a reserved man, but now he looked more serious than usual.


    "It appears that the Summermers and the Temple are trying to organize a Holy Raid."


    Ann sighed with relief, "That''s nothing new, Duncan. Highlord Alfric Alhstrom will deny them passage as usual." She gave a dismissive wave of her hand.


    Duncan, however, didn''t seem to share her optimism, "But my queen...Alfric Alhstrom didn''t refuse this time."


    Ann stilled, "What? Are you telling me...he accepted?" She sounded incredulous.


    "We have no definitive proof..."Rowley interjected, "But it seems likely, your Highness."


    Duncan looked grim, "Two years ago Highlord Alhstrom allowed the white gowns to preach in his lands. I am afraid that granting the Temple''s army safe passage..." He trailed off, but the meaning was clear.


    Ann''s whole body tensed as anxiety swirled through her.


    The only time when the Highlords forged an alliance was two hundred years ago. And when that happened, the Coppertons lost everything.


    She squared her shoulders and did what her mother had taught her to do: she brazenly bluffed,  pretending the news hadn''t shocked her, "Send your spies to Thunderfield." She ordered Rowley, "I want to know what''s really going on between these two Great Houses."


    It worked well. She''d had a lot of training, after all. Her voice sounded strong and firm, filled with the authority of a real queen.


    No matter what, I can''t allow them to join forces. Individually, the Highlords are hard to deal with, but together...


    Ann rose, "And send your men to tail Ser Godfrey. Discretely of course. I want to catch him in the act if possible."


    "Of course, your majesty" Rowley''s smile was a bit mellifluous, his small brown eyes shining brightly.


    Ann ignored him and rubbed her shoulders, "We''ll discuss the other matters tomorrow. This will be all for now. Thank you." Ann dismissed them.


    Rowley bowed and quickly left. Duncan tried to wake up Adept Adolar, but the old scholar kept snoring, blissfully unaware both the Queen and the captain of the royal guard were looking at him. When he finally succeeded, her old mentor profusely apologized to her, wiping off the drool off his chin before limping out of the room. Duncan was about to do the same when Ann called him.


    "Duncan, stay." She said to him and ordered the servants to leave.


    Soon only the two of them were left.


    The royal knight lifted an eyebrow, "My queen?"


    "We still haven''t talked about your new role as the captain of the royal guard. I hope you weren''t surprised." She winked at him, teasing him a bit.


    "I was." Duncan honestly admitted, "I thought a lot about it, my queen, and I think I am not worthy of such an honor..." He began, but Ann raised her hand.


    "There is no one more worthy than you, my friend."


    Duncan seemed unconvinced. He shook his head, "Without a doubt, there are many people more wise, experienced and.."


    "...trustworthy?"


    They exchanged a glance, but it was Duncan who averted his gaze first.


    "You know there is no one I can trust in the castle. The Highlords'' spies are everywhere. I need you," She confessed, and something flickered in his gaze, his face morphing as his features softened, "I need you, my knight."


    Duncan lowered his head, and when he looked up at her, his pale blue eyes were cold and distant as usual.


    "Very well, your highness."


    She smiled when he accepted. Duncan''s house was old and proud, but like all the crown loyalists, he''d lost everything in the war, two hundred years ago. Fallen Lords they called them, houses that took the queen''s side against the four Highlords and the Temple.


    Her family''s demesne had been much bigger at the time, but after the war, they were barely able to keep the crown. The lands that once belonged to house Copperton were split between their enemies while their vassals lost everything. In the following years, the Highlords established the council, and the crown''s authority waned.


    "What do you think the Anchorvys want?" Ann asked after some time.


    Morris Anchovy and her sister lived here, just a few miles away. They had many occasions to meet. Yet, she had the foreboding that there was more to that meeting than mere courtesy.


    "They want to pay homage to the new Queen, of course." Duncan replied, maybe a little too fast.


    "Duncan, please. I want to know what you really think."


    Duncan sighed, scratching his head, "I think the Anchorvys want to offer their support."


    Anna frowned, "Their support? Why? What do they have to gain?"


    "You''re the queen." He reminded her.


    "A puppet queen." She corrected him, "I have no money and no army."


    Duncan''s eyelids sagged, but he didn''t try to correct her this time, "They need you, your majesty."


    "Why? House Anchorvy is rich, the richest family in the kingdom. Their lands are safe, their fleet powerful..."


    "Their lands are safe for the moment, and their fleet is powerful," He agreed, "but they aren''t that rich, not anymore."


    She knitted her brow, "Are you talking about their trade problems?"


    Duncan nodded, "They made a fortune trading with the Eastern continent, but they can''t do that anymore. Your majesty knows that the Swampsea is not navigable."


    "I heard about it. It''s infested by sea monsters, right?"


    "Indeed, you are correct, your grace. The Swampsea swallows up people and boats. No one can cross it."


    "They can''t go south."


    "They can''t go north either, not as long as the pirates of Redsails control the Strait."


    She was starting to understand where this conversation was going, "The pirates are a plague, but I heard a Wildland noble obtained a great victory against them recently."


    "Marulf Kaalhund, yes. His house used to benefit from the trade with the Anchorvys. Many merchants from Seagorge visited Kaalhund to buy pelts and slaves before selling them in the markets of Ten Islands. House Kaalhund has much to gain from defeating the pirates."


    "There are other ports in the Wildlands." She pointed out, "They could move their goods by land, avoiding the pirates altogether, and then sail for the Eastern Continent."


    "My queen" Duncan patiently said, "there is a reason the Wildlands are called the way they are called. The land is wide and mountainous, harsh and unforgiving like the people who live in it. Besides, there are only three ports the Kaalhunds could use. Strom end is too far, and everyone, Kaalhunds included, hates the Bellbornes. Daahl would be the most obvious choice, but I know the two houses have some kind of disagreement."


    Ann sighed, "The Kaalhunds and the Anchorvys seem to have the same objective."


    "Indeed. But defeating the pirates won''t be easy. The only way to put an end to piracy is to directly land on their island and conquer it, exterminating them. But no one has managed to do that so far."


    Ann creased her brow, "What if they go north? The Anchorvys could circumnavigate the Embersea."


    "That would be a long and expensive trip, my queen. Besides, the Frozen sea is almost as dangerous as the Swampsea."


    Ann shook her head, "The Anchorvys can''t reach the Eastern continent by sea." She hadn''t realized the situation was that bad. Bad and absurd. The Anchovys were famous for their fleet, and yet, their formidable ships were completely useless, "What about by land?"


    "The Avernus won''t open their gates to them."


    That answer didn''t surprise her. Sabuleum''s gates had been shut long ago, though no one knew why. Many people assumed House Avernus was trying to hamper the advance of the Temple''s faith, but no one knew for sure.


    "The Summermers? Dartmoor is one of the largest ports in the entire kingdom. They could use it as a base."


    Duncan nodded, "That''s what the Anchorvys did for years. However, everything stopped three months ago when the Summermers started blocking the Anchorvys'' caravans at the border."


    She gaped, "Why?"


    Duncan lifted his shoulders in a half shrug, "I''m sorry, your highness but I don''t know for sure."


    "Three months ago." Ann repeated, "Just a month before my mother died."


    She stared at Duncan. He looked calm, even comfortable, but she had known him all her life. He wasn''t telling her everything.


    "You know something, don''t you?"


    He opened his mouth, "My queen, I..."


    "Speak, Duncan." She demanded, pinning him with her eyes, "What are you hiding? What happened three months ago?"


    Ann saw him clenching his fists, sensed the silent battle raging inside him. However, after a moment or two, his arms dangled powerlessly at his sides and she knew she''d won.


    "Your Highness won''t let this go, right?" When she didn''t answer, he sighed, "The Summermers."


    Of course, they are involved.


    "What did they do?"


    "They tried to change the succession laws. They wanted a..." He averted his gaze, unable to look at her.


    Her face darkened, "A king. They want a king."


    Ann wasn''t surprised when Duncan nodded. There was a time, just after the Cataclysm, when men could inherit only if there were no women available. In the last two hundred years, however, the Temple had been very busy changing the laws and removing the women from positions of power. Changing the kingdom''s succession laws was just the final nail in the coffin.


    "And tell me, how did the council vote? No, wait...before that. Why didn''t I know about this?"


    Duncan looked uncomfortable, "It was your mentor''s order, my queen."


    "Adept Adolar? Why would he..."Ann faltered, remembering something else that happened three months ago.


    My sister married Morris Anchorvy.


    Ann suddenly rose, setting her palms down flat on the table, "Duncan, who of the old council supported my mother?"


    I must be wrong. Please, I have to be wrong.


    Duncan hesitated before saying, "The Anchorvys."


    Ann''s knees buckled, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths as she sat back down, unable to stand anymore.


    "Four votes." She glanced at Duncan, her voice shaking, "My mother needed four votes to stop the Temple."


    "Your Highness, it''s not like you thin..."


    "She made a deal with the Anchorvys, didn''t she? Their support in exchange for my sister. Right?!"


    "My queen, please calm down..."


    "Calm down?! How can I calm down?! She sold her, Duncan! My mother sold my sister for a vote!"


    Duncan flinched, but Ann had no intention of stopping.


    "I never understood why my mother agreed to marry my sister to that...that frog. The women of House Copperton never marry with men of four great houses. She repeated that to me countless times." She shook her head, "Now I know why she broke the rule."


    "Your Highness, the late queen..." Duncan tried to reason with her, but Ann didn''t let him talk.


    "And what my mother did next? She disinherited my sister, removing her from the family line!"


    "Your Highness!"Duncan shouted, finally managing to get her attention, "The late queen did that for a reason. You know she did it for..."


    "Me?" She laughed, but she was starting to sound a bit hysterical, "And how I should feel about that, Duncan? How should I feel now that I know my mother took everything from my sister to give it to me? How can I face her? Answer me, Duncan!"


    Duncan froze, his shoulders sagging, "Your Highness, I''m sorry..."


    "No...it''s...it''s not your fault, Duncan. I can understand why you and Adept Adolar decided to hide it from me. I can even understand why my mother sold my sister like a common whore. It was for the good of the family." She spat, "What I can''t understand is why she had to disinherit her."


    "Your Highness, forgive my rudeness, but I think the late queen had no other choice." He said, his deep voice making her shiver, "Deep down your highness knows why the late queen had to disinherit lady Helena."


    Because if my sister were still my heir, I wouldn''t be the queen right now. I would be dead.


    Yet, that didn''t change anything. It was all her fault.


    "Duncan, you can go." She whispered.


    "My queen..."He leaned forward like he wanted to grab her arm, maybe even hug her, but she backed away.


    "Duncan, please." She lowered her head, hiding her face as she fought back the tears, "I want to be alone."


    Duncan flinched, "I understand, your Highness, but...there is one last thing."


    "What is it?"


    "It''s your..." He hesitated, searching for the right words, "Childhood friend. Lady Elizabeth Summermer."


    Ann stiffened, "Did...did something happen to her?"


    "Not exactly..." Duncan averted his gaze, "it''s just that...her father is looking for possible...candidates."


    Ann squeezed her eyes shut, trying to take deep breaths, "She is about to marry." She mumbled, but Duncan heard her anyway.


    "Yes, your highness." He sneaked a glance at her, "I...I only felt you should know."


    "Yes, thank you, Duncan." She answered, but her voice was absent, her gaze vacant, "Go now. Please."


    Duncan bowed and stood up, glancing at her one last time before leaving the room.


    Only then Ann burst into tears.