《Grasping at Smoke》 Chapter 1 ¡°Dung? Really?¡± Tsuta examined the red sphere, turning it over in his hands. ¡°That¡¯s what the book said¡± came the reply The source of the second voice was his watch partner - Iskvold, but he never called her that. Tsuta always gave his colleagues nicknames based on some obvious dimension of their physical appearance or skills. Iskvold had the characteristic pink eyes of the Drow and given how rare her kind were in this part of the world (he had never known another), it seemed only appropriate to give her the nickname ¡°Pinky¡±. The two were in the final stretch of their three-day tour guarding the northern outpost. The monks of The Luminarium were responsible for constantly manning three beacon outposts overlooking the mountain passes that offered the only means of access to the eastern kingdoms of elves and men. It had proved to be a profitable symbiotic relationship for all sides. The abbey received a steady stream of complimentary food and supplies from their benefactors. In exchange, the monks provided an early warning system against any aggression from the tribes of Orcs and Gnolls to the west or any other nasties that might take nearby communities by surprise. The main abbey - The Luminarium - was centrally located less than two miles from each outpost, nestled solidly into the foothills of the Glimmerstone mountains. Each location consisted of a modest cabin shelter and an eight-foot-high stone fireplace called The Beacon perched on a small, cleared plot atop a plateau carved out of the forest. Each outpost was only accessible from the east side to prevent it from being overrun by enemies. The Beacons themselves had a unique functional design with a rounded cone base close to three feet wide at the bottom, its bulbous sides tapering to a much smaller aperture at the top. Tsuta recalled thinking, the first time he saw one up close, that they resembled an upside-down beehive or a head of garlic. Each beacon was mounted on a low three-sided stone base with a sliding metal grate underneath to remove the ash. Their job was simple enough. Monitor the pass and send a signal if anything hinky comes east. It was the method of communication however that fueled the current conversation. Each outpost was equipped with 3 colored spheres, one white, one blue, and one red. Their instructions were to throw one of the spheres into the constantly burning fire should they observe significant civilian migration (white), orc or gnoll military operations (red), or other threatening creatures (blue) moving through the pass. Once added, the sphere produced a heavy column of smoke in its respective color. Each sphere would burn for about an hour and its trail was visible for miles thanks to the beacon¡¯s design and the magical nature of the colored orbs. ¡°What kind of dung?¡± he asked, still focused on the red sphere. ¡°Does it matter?¡± Iskvold shouted back, her voice somewhat muffled as she spoke from the overlook on the far side of the cabin. One of them always had to have eyes on the pass. ¡°I was wondering how they get the different colors. Is it different dung or other ingredients, or related to the process and magic associated with creating them?¡± Iskvold appeared to the side of the cabin after repositioning herself to see Tsuta next to the Beacon and keep an eye on the overlook simultaneously. Her shoulder-length white hair was tucked behind her right ear while hanging loosely over her left side. Her head was slightly cocked as her pink eyes sized him up. ¡°Are you messing with me right now?¡± ¡°I swear to Gond I¡¯m not¡± His face cracked a smile ¡°I¡¯m actually curious and assumed you would know given how much time you spend with your nose buried in The Vault¡± The Vault was the abbey¡¯s library, so named because it was discreetly and securely positioned underneath the main building. Their Sifu ¨C Master Haft - took the protection of the abbey¡¯s knowledge very seriously. Historically, the monks at the Luminarium provided the service of transcription and translation for any who could afford it without asking questions. It was also their practice to make a second copy of each document for themselves (often unbeknownst to their customer) and add it to the Vault. Over the years, they had accumulated quite a collection, rivaled only by the royal libraries in the national capitals. In addition, because of their ¡°don¡¯t ask, don¡¯t tell¡± policy, the Luminarium¡¯s inventory had become very eclectic over the years, ranging from the benign to the downright dangerous. Outside her three mandatory days a month at the Beacon, Iskvold¡¯s primary duties lay within the Vault. As its appointed curator, she knew what was there and where to find it. That suited her just fine as she had a love of knowledge and often felt more at home among the stacks than with other people. Her eyes narrowed as she contemplated dignifying Tsuta with a response, deciding finally to speak after a significant pause. ¡°The white ones are made with wolf dung, the red is Centaur, and the blue comes from Bulettes. The other ingredients ¨C Sulphur and saltpeter ¨C are the same, and so is the incantation¡± Tsuta started to giggle ¡°I can¡¯t believe you KNOW that Pinky...that you actually took the time to learn about how to construct Beacon flares out of dung!¡± ¡°Laugh all you want my bald friend, you¡¯re the one playing with Centaur shit!¡± She smirked and disappeared back around the edge of the cabin to resume her observation. Tsuta¡¯s smile was immediately replaced with a scowl as he looked down again at the red sphere, promptly returning it to its rightful place beside the beacon and wiping his hands thoroughly on his robes. With his staff propped up against the wood pile, he remembered what he¡¯d come out there to do and grabbed two more logs to feed the ever-burning fire within the Beacon. As he did so, he got the impression of movement at the edge of his peripheral vision. It looked like a flash of magic. As one of the few monks at the Luminarium who was also skilled in casting, Tsuta was very familiar with magic and instinctively dropped the logs. Grabbing his staff in one motion, and rotating towards the flash, his magical essence began to crackle in his right hand. But there was nothing there. The morning sun flickered among the leaves moving lazily in the western breeze. The birds and insects continued their constant twitter and drone. Hmm. Maybe it wasn¡¯t magic. Maybe it was just the light playing among the shadows of the forest? Satisfied that he had overreacted, the wood elf let go of the connection to his magic, swapped his staff for the logs, stoked the Beacon, and headed back towards the cabin.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. It was his turn to rest. The pair had spent the last three days swapping six-hour shifts watching the pass. Outpost duty was mentally draining. Maybe it was the monotony or the heavy diet of solo training and meditation, but he always felt exhausted returning to the abbey after completing his monthly tour. Regardless, their relief would be arriving in a few hours and Tsuta could get back to his normal duties reviewing and improving the abbey¡¯s defenses. It had been nearly a full year since he decided to join Sifu Haft at The Luminarium and take a break from adventuring. Though he didn¡¯t regret the choice, he certainly missed the excitement of the road, most often it seemed, while he was stuck on outpost duty. He pushed open the back door of the cabin allowing a shaft of sunlight to illuminate the modest accommodation. A table with an oil lamp, a small fireplace, and a well-worn meditation mat occupied one side of the single room while a hand pump and basin perched atop a basic wooden counter, with supplies stored underneath, covered the other. Closing the door behind him returned shadows to the interior. Lighting a stick of incense against the embers within the fireplace Tsuta settled down on the mat, placed the incense in its holder, and began his meditation routine drifting quickly into the focused, semi-conscious state that substituted for sleep among the elves. Iskvold heard the cabin door close at her back but didn¡¯t break from her structured routine observation ¨C scan the skies, scan the pass, scan the mountainsides, repeat. She felt this was the most difficult of all the shifts within the three-day tour ¨C the last one. While her partner was more oblivious to the passage of time because of his meditative state, she was painfully aware of the glacier-like movement of every ticking second. So close to being relieved, yet each minute seemed to drag and these last few hours felt like an eternity. Even her usual distractions ¨C the nest of baby wrens just below the outpost overlook, or the mountain lion that regularly patrolled the hillside to the north, weren¡¯t doing it for her. Working her routine, she turned north to scan the peaks of the Glimmerstone mountains from the horizon to the Sshanderiusha Gap directly below her and then further south to where the Glimmerstones meet the Aether Peaks. Nothing. Back to the gap. Named after the Sshanderiusha river, whose headwaters began not far to the east of the outpost, Iskvold had a clear view of the road itself stretching miles into the foothills of the Siremirian League to the west ¨C empty. Only a few times in her decade of outpost duty had she ever seen any activity on the other side of the gap. Her younger self had always imagined the vast wildlands sprinkled with tribes of orcs would provide an ongoing entertainment of fantastic creatures moving around just on the other side of civilization, plotting, and testing the boundaries. First-hand experience, however, had completely dispelled that myth. Twice she had seen a tribe of orcs migrating across her field of view, and one other time she had seen a pair of wyverns, an adult and a juvenile, riding the air currents among the lower foothills. That was it¡­in ten years. One hundred and twenty tours. Over four thousand hours of direct watch. If only Sifu allowed her to bring books with her. How many could she have read? How much knowledge could she have acquired? Of course, he had immediately refused the request, which was understandable. It completely defeats the purpose of being on watch duty if one is focused on reading rather than watching. Sifu was also very strict about all written materials being confined to the Vault itself ¨C no removals. For ¡°protection¡± he had said. That objection she had understood less. While there were absolutely some manuscripts that should never see the light of day outside the Vault, there were countless other documents that would benefit the reader from being considered in the field, with context ¨C some of the catalogs of flora and fauna for example. She continued her scan to the mountainsides. From her perch, Iskvold could see the eastern and southern slopes of six different peaks that framed the gap, and she dutifully scrutinized each one from base to summit. No activity. Repeating the process somewhat robotically for several hours, it was only when the sun, having moved from overhead to begin pressing its beams annoyingly into her eyes, Iskvold realized something wasn¡¯t right. They should have been relieved by now. Normally, the beacon watch arrived by mid-afternoon with a couple of the acolytes in tow bringing food and firewood up to replenish what had been consumed by the outgoing monks on duty. It was well past mid-afternoon now. Where were they? She gave it another thirty minutes before rousing Tsuta from his meditation. At first, he resisted her alarm. ¡°How late is it?¡± he asked without opening his eyes ¡°The shadows of the foothills are already into the Gap¡± That was enough to support the credibility of her concern, his eyes snapped open. ¡°You¡¯re right, that¡¯s pretty late.¡± He exhaled audibly as he stood and stretched. ¡°Do you want to head down to the abbey and see what¡¯s what while I keep an eye on the gap?¡± ¡°That works. I could do with the change of scenery. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s nothing, but you never know¡± Tsuta nodded and reached for his staff ¨C not that it served much purpose on watch duty, but he felt comfort in always having it to hand. ¡°I might as well take my stuff, save another trip,¡± Iskvold said almost to herself as she slipped past him into the cabin. Tsuta yawned and stepped out onto the overlook. ¡°You didn¡¯t see smoke from any of the outposts to the south, did you?¡± he asked. ¡°Now don¡¯t you think I would have led with that if I had?¡± she chided over her shoulder. Tsuta chucked ¡°Fair enough. Sifu probably ran long in one of his lessons again. Wouldn¡¯t be the first time.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that the truth!¡± he heard her reply along with the sounds of rummaging inside the cabin. Iskvold grabbed her cloak and shouldered her pack. Returning to the overlook, she placed a hand on Tsuta¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll see you back at the abbey¡±. He turned his head, and they shared a nod before Iskvold strode to the northern end of the overlook and disappeared down the stairs carved straight into the rock face of the plateau. ¡°Tell them to get their butts moving will you please?¡± Tsuta shouted in her direction. ¡°Will do¡± came the distant response. Iskvold took the stairs down two at a time. Her muscle memory took over, her right hand dragging against the stone surface as she shifted her weight to the inside, her staff held in her left, parallel to the ground for balance. These stairs were not only the sole access point for the beacon, but a core component of training at the abbey. She must have done at least five hundred repetitions of this route as an acolyte. Gond was that painful in the early days! As she rounded the eastern side of the plateau and gained a line of sight to the abbey she stopped dead. The abbey was burning. There were no visible flames, but the mostly stone structure was heavily smoldering. She was still too far away to make out any detail, but she¡¯d seen enough. Flying down the few remaining stairs, Iskvold broke into a dead run through the high grass field towards what remained of the Luminarium. Chapter 2 A million thoughts tore through her mind as Iskvold raced towards the only home she had ever known. Had there been an accident? Were they attacked? How could attackers have gotten past the beacons unseen? What if the attack came from the east? Was everyone ok? Why had no one been dispatched to warn her and Tsuta? They could have helped. The Vault. Had it burned as well? All those books, all that knowledge. It took her almost ten minutes at a full sprint to reach the abbey¡¯s outer courtyard from the beacon stairs. As she got closer, she could see the iron gates were open. That wasn¡¯t unusual. They were always open during the day unless the alarm had been raised. From the level of smoke and occasional flame, she could now make out in the abbey¡¯s upper windows, this must have happened in the last few hours. While she had been idly monitoring the gap. Guilt stabbed at her heart, but it didn¡¯t last long. As she reached the iron gates and had a full view of the courtyard, Iskvold stopped in her tracks for the second time in less than twenty minutes. This was no accident. The courtyard looked like a battlefield. Drying blood stained the ground in overlapping patterns and four monks, four of her friends, lay unmoving on the ground. Not a single enemy corpse in sight. She rushed to the nearest victim, rolling him over to check for a pulse, she looked into the dead eyes of Brother Jellen, an elf she had known since childhood. They grew up together here at the abbey. There had even been a brief secret relationship back in their teenage years. Tears rolled down her cheeks. No pulse. Gone. Multiple parallel gashes crisscrossed his torso and face, and she could see the gaping wounds underneath his blood-soaked robes. His hands too were cut with his palms showing similar parallel slashes. His palms. Iskvold¡®s head snapped up as she looked around quickly surveying the scene. No weapons. Not a single staff in sight. Whatever had done this had given no warning, slaughtering the unarmed monks before a call to arms could be raised. She moved quickly among the others on the ground. Sister Karela, Brother Ren, and Brother Avil, all dead. The monks of the Luminarium were accomplished martial artists, more dangerous with their bare hands than most warriors with a sword. What could have cut them down so easily? Sorrow overcame her for a moment as she knelt next to Brother Avil¡¯s body, but then another thought occurred to the Drow ¨C what if whatever did this was still here? In that moment, something she had never experienced before overcame her. A white-hot rage started to boil deep in her guts. All rational thought abandoned her. With her friends dead and her home razed, Iskvold wanted retribution. No¡­more than that¡­she hungered for it. Jumping to her feet with her staff in both hands she let out what could only be described as an animalistic roar and charged into the main structure of the Luminarium. What unfolded over the next few seconds felt surreal, as if she was nothing more than an observer inside her own body, aware of everything going on but completely powerless to change it. Entering the cloakroom, she saw another body on the ground halfway propping open the swinging door to the mess hall. Another friend¡­can¡¯t stop. She stepped over her fallen ally, shouldering the door in mid-stride, rocketing it back against its hinges and the wall. The mess hall was heavily charred, benches and tables black from the fire, smoke still curling into the air. Three more charred bodies. Keep moving. Kitchen or main hall? Kitchen. She heard herself scream: ¡°YOU WANT BATTLE? COME AND GET IT! I WILL RIP YOUR LIMBS OFF AND FEED THEM TO YOU!¡± What was that? Where did that come from? She sprinted across the mess, and through the kitchen door. Its wood was also weak from the fire, this time her shoulder knocked the door entirely off its hinges as she burst through, sending it crashing into the high shelves to the right that were used to store the abbey¡¯s cookware. The collision dislodged a large soup pot from the top shelf launching it into her field of view. Her staff struck it in mid-air, sending it forcefully to the ground where the metal clanged off the stone floor. Before it bounced, she hit it again leaving a large dent. Just a pot¡­keep going! Two more friends down, the tatters of Luminarium robes barely distinguishable on the fringes of their charred remains. She heard herself scream again: ¡°WHERE ARE YOU COWARDS!?¡± She grabbed a smoldering freestanding shelf that had fallen and blocked the door to the main hall. The pain seared through her immediately but the rational passenger in her head observed that it didn¡¯t hurt as much as it should have. Not only that, but the pain seemed to reinforce the rage that had her in its grip like a kite being lifted higher by a passing gust of wind. She let out another unintelligible animalistic roar and pushed into the main hall. This was a large room, close to thirty feet long and more than twenty feet across. With four rows of benches to either side of a center walkway ending in a raised platform, this was where the monks of the Luminarium gathered when Sifu would deliver abbey-wide communications or lead them in worship. The benches had been reduced to smoldering rubble and black stains marked the grey stone walls where flames had licked their way higher. Four more badly burned humanoid forms lay in the open space between Iskvold and what remained of the benches all of them curled into a fetal position, perhaps from the fire, but there was also something else. Among the corpses of her colleagues was another creature. The rational passenger inside her head estimated it to be about seven feet tall, with gaunt musculature, its charcoal skin seemingly stretched over its bones. It had a long tail punctuated with several vertebrae sticking up at least three inches from the trunk and came to a sharp point at the tip. It had nasty-looking claws on both its five-digit hands and four-digit feet that were covered in dried blood along with four-inch fangs protruding from its maw. Most uniquely, there was a large bone hook protruding from the top of its head that came to a point about ten inches above its eyes. It was as motionless as the monks on the floor, but that didn¡¯t matter to the fury that was currently in control of her actions. She heard herself cry out ¡°FINALLY!¡± as she charged the creature. Her staff came down repeatedly. Ribs. Back. Shoulder. She felt her body draw on her Ki, the magical energy that all monks can tap into when needed, her hands glowed white in response and she rained down an additional flurry of blows. Head. Head. Head. The body of the creature absorbed each one, never moving, never flinching. Her last strike produced a sickening crack as the skull caved in. And then the rage left her. Regaining control of her actions, Iskvold looked down at the corpse of the creature, breathing heavily from her anger-filled rampage. What in Gond¡¯s name was that? After taking a moment to reorient and catch her breath, she flitted quickly among the fallen, checking for any signs of life. Nothing. She could tell there were two male and two female victims, but the bodies were too charred to identify. At least this group was armed, each one still clutching a blackened staff. That made at least fourteen of the Luminarium brethren that had fallen. Doing some quick math in her head, she calculated the abbey¡¯s full complement. There were thirty of them in total, twenty-four full-fledged brothers and sisters, plus Sifu Haft and six acolytes currently in training. They would have been in the Vault doing their studies. The Vault. Iskvold pressed on through the main hall and out the side door to the left of the dais into the dojo. Racks of weapons lined two of the walls framing a central heavy woven grass mat with a large painted circle in the center that served as the abbey¡¯s main sparring ring. In the circle lay a second of the hook-headed creatures surrounded by three more fallen monks. Oddly, none of these bodies were charred. Both weapons racks along with their contents had burned, leaving their telltale black soot marks on the walls, but the mat itself along with everyone on it showed no signs of fire. Iskvold was numb as she looked down into the faces of Kai, Lin, and Finnegan. Seventeen. Once again finding nothing but death, she moved across the dojo towards one of the two doors to the transcription room, which had access to the Vault. One of the two doors was ajar and belching smoke into the larger sparring facility. The transcription room was still burning. Under normal circumstances, this was the space where the abbey did their commissioned literary work. At any given time, there would be at least four or five monks researching, writing, and transcribing at the long tables with piles of texts or from the Vault below spread out in front of them. Tapestries and paintings adorned the walls along with shelves of supplies ¨C paper, binding, ink, and quills. As Iskvold poked her head in, the room was unrecognizable. All the tables had collapsed with two of them still actively on fire, the artwork was reduced to ash, with soot outlines on the stone walls testifying to its prior positioning. Shelving racks on two walls were also burning, though their contents had already succumbed to the flames. She couldn¡¯t get to the trap door that led to the Vault, as rubble of the room¡¯s contents, still flickering and smoldering defiantly, covered the access point.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Thinking quickly, Iskvold moved to the window on the other side of the room and smashed open what remained of the folding shutters. Looking out she could see the millpond about ten feet from her position. She reached into her mind and once again summoned her Ki, her hands again glowing white as she reached toward the water. Closing her fist and pulling it back into the room, a cylinder of water two feet wide and thirty feet long sprang through the window and crashed into the transcription room, causing a loud hiss as smoke and steam filled the air. Now dripping wet, Iskvold coughed and pushed her hair out of her eyes to survey the space, feeling quite satisfied with herself. Only a few stubborn tendrils of smoke wisped into the air and even they were rapidly surrendering. As she pushed the charred furniture out of the way, she ran her foot over the now sloppy ash covering the floor looking for the small stone that served as the release for the Vault door. Under normal circumstances, the door was usually ajar, especially if any of the abbey¡¯s residents were working down below. There were two different security protocols that Sifu drilled into everyone at the Luminarium to safeguard their knowledge repository. At any sign of outsiders, the door was to be closed making it all but invisible to anyone who didn¡¯t know it was there. At times of significant threat, the lock stone she was searching for now was pressed flush with the floor making the Vault all but impenetrable from either side until the stone was pressed again, and the lock released. The fact that the Vault was in a locked state gave her some hope that at the very least its contents were protected, and at best, there may be some survivors. Finding the stone initially unresponsive, Iskvold got down on her hands and knees and traced her short fingernails around the outside of its edges to clear away any debris that might be preventing its release. Prying out a piece of grit, she tried again, and the stone reluctantly popped up into its typical raised position. She hurried over to an otherwise unremarkable section of the wall a few feet to her right and gave it a push. Relieved to feel the familiar click, the stone receded to expose a simple staircase cut from the earth itself, descending about ten feet before turning to the right. As if on cue, the space at the bottom of the stairs was immediately filled with the figure of Sifu Haft, his staff ready to strike, eyes blazing. Not particularly tall among the humans, Sifu had flashing blue eyes, close-cropped hair, and a substantial mustache that stuck out from his lip at least an inch. ¡°Iskvold! Praise be to Kord! I thought we may never get out of here!¡± Haft turned over his shoulder and called back into the Vault ¡°It¡¯s all right, it¡¯s Iskvold!¡±. For a man of his advanced age, Iskvold was always impressed by Sifu¡¯s fitness. She was reminded of this as he bounded up the stairs two at a time while she took a couple of steps back to make room for him to enter the chaos previously known as the transcription room. Behind him, the six acolytes scurried up from the Vault as if afraid to allow too much distance to separate them from their teacher. ¡°I was giving the initiates a lesson when we heard what sounded like Tiamat crashing a tea party, and they closed and locked us in immediately.¡± His voice trailed off and his jaw dropped as he crested the stairs and surveyed the remains of the abbey¡¯s workspace. Regaining his composure Haft¡¯s posture went ramrod straight as he turned to Iskvold. ¡°Status¡± was all he said. She found his return to discipline somewhat settling, and the muscle memory of her training at the abbey took over. Iskvold delivered an emotionless and thorough accounting of what she¡¯d seen and experienced since arriving at the front gates (leaving out only her bizarre rage bender) while Sifu and the acolytes listened intently, the former furrowing his brow at several points during the debrief but never interrupting her. When she finished, he clasped his hands behind his back, raised himself to his full height, and turned to face the group. ¡°Right. I know this is a difficult moment for all of us, but we need to focus on protecting the Luminarium and our remaining brotherhood first and foremost. Later there will be time to mourn and time to try to understand what has just happened here, but only if we now act with purpose and clarity. He turned to face each of them directly as he fired off instructions. ¡°Iskvold - take Esmi and Jin, sweep the rest of the abbey, make sure the fire is completely out, and bring any injured to the gathering hall. Nori - you and How begin moving the dead to the outer courtyard. Usha - go and retrieve Tsuta and the rest still at the beacon outposts. We will need to pull back from our watch duties until we get things back in order here. Graver - I want you to ride immediately to the Abbey of the Crystal Dawn¡­¡± He paused as he walked to the window and stuck his head out, craning to his left. ¡°Scratch that. The stables have been burned to the ground. First, see if you can find any of the horses wandering about, maybe we¡¯ll get lucky. If you do, ride. If you don¡¯t, you¡¯ll need to head for Crystal Dawn on foot. When you get there, tell Sifu Aganon what has happened here and that we need to call on the Pact of the Brotherhood for assistance. See if he will also help spread the word to the other orders given our depleted state.¡± ¡°Yes Sifu!¡± came the chorus in response and they all moved quickly to their assigned duties. Sifu Haft closed the door to the vault and pressed the lock stone back into position level with the floor. ¡°The Vault stays locked until we have things better under control¡± Chapter 3 Tsuta was mesmerized by a hummingbird flitting among the blossoms of a large trumpet vine growing below the overlook when Usha burst around the corner, out of breath. ¡°Raven! What are you doing here? What¡¯s the matter?¡± Raven was the nickname Tsuta had given Usha due to her black glossy hair ¨C unusual for a dwarf. ¡°Abbey attacked...fire¡­many dead¡± she managed to spit out between deep gulps of air, her hands braced against her knees as she doubled over from exertion. In only her fourth week, Usha and the rest of the initiates hadn¡¯t yet completed the rigorous physical training that was a cornerstone of Sifu¡¯s curriculum. Tsuta handed her his waterskin and she drank greedily while catching him up between gulps on the attack, the situation at the abbey, and her instructions to retrieve those on watch at the beacons. She was panicked. Not surprising as it was likely the first time she had witnessed the violent death of those close to her, particularly at the scale she just described. He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s okay. Breathe. We¡¯ll be all right. Sounds like the immediate danger has passed. You have to keep your wits about you in these situations if you¡¯re going to master your Ki. Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll figure it out.¡± His calm tone and reminder of their core teaching helped Usha regain some of her composure as she drew in a deep breath, her cheeks ballooning in long audible exhale. Tsuta slung his pack over his shoulder and grabbed his staff but stopped short just before they turned the corner to descend the outpost stairs. Realizing he had stopped, Usha turned to see him drop his things and move across the yard area to the beacon itself. Reaching down, he picked up two logs and a blue sphere and tossed them into the fire. Holding her gaze he said:This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°We can¡¯t forget our duty to those who rely on us for early warning. Dangerous creatures have breached the pass, and they need to know¡± Her eyes followed as he raised his gaze above the beacon. Almost immediately a thick ribbon of blue smoke began to push its way skyward from the chimney. Though Usha knew how the beacons operated; this was the first time she had seen one of the flares in action. The column of dark blue rose rapidly, and straight as an arrow, somehow unaffected by the wind. It also seemed to light up the sky around it, giving off more luminescence than she expected in the late afternoon cloud cover. They watched in silence for a few seconds before Tsuta¡¯s voice brought her back to the moment. ¡°I always wondered how the flares could be seen at night. There is obviously a light spell included in the incantation ¨C see how the smoke glows?¡± He retrieved his pack and staff. ¡°Let¡¯s go get the others¡±. After following the stairs down, around the outcropping the beacon had been built upon, the elf and dwarf skirted the foothills of the Glimmerstone mountains for close to three miles as they made their way southeast towards the central outpost. Constantly visible in the distance on their left, the stone structure of the Luminarium still gave off a thin trail of black smoke. Tsuta probed the initiate for more information as they walked. ¡°Tell me about the creatures that attacked us. How many? Did anyone recognize what they were?¡± ¡°No one could name them.¡± Her voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes fixed on the path in front of them. ¡°There were two, and they must have been close to seven feet tall or more, slim build, almost like they were starving - skin stretched over bone, it didn¡¯t look natural¡­ and they had a big hook sticking out of the tops of their heads.¡± Her voice broke ¡°With wicked looking claws on their hands and feet, and a long tail that ended in a sharp spike.¡± ¡°You¡¯re doing great¡± Tsuta reassured her ¡°I know it isn¡¯t easy to think back on something so horrible. Did they use weapons or magic?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t see any weapons, so I guess magic since they also set the whole abbey on fire¡± Tsuta nodded almost imperceptibly in agreement before adding: ¡°There must have been more than two if no one was left alive to tell us about it, which means there are others still out there somewhere. So, the question is ¨C what were they after and where did they go?¡± Chapter 4 By the time they reached the base of the stairs leading to the central outpost, the late afternoon sun had broken through the cloud cover and Tsuta paused to wipe the light sweat off his bald head. Usha, however, was not in the same physical shape as the elf. After the brisk pace he had pushed to get here and running from the abbey and up the stairs to the northern outpost, she was spent. After plopping herself down on the bottom stair, she lowered her head between her knees and drew in several long breaths. ¡°Tell you what Raven,¡± he said. ¡°We don¡¯t both need to go up there. You stay here and catch your breath; I¡¯ll be back in a few minutes.¡± She gazed up at him and nodded gratefully as he moved past her and headed up the cut-stone stairway towards the outpost. Several other questions swirled around in his head as he rose towards his destination, questions he thought the better of speaking out loud given the fragile state of his traveling companion. How had these creatures reached the abbey without warning? Were their sponsor nations to the east already under attack and this was some kind of vanguard force pushing west and north? Why had no one warned the abbey? Or had they come from Siremiria through one of the passes? If so, why had no beacon flares been set off? Someone must have seen them coming. Although the outposts were identical in their construction, Tsuta noticed a stark contrast between the one he had just left and this one immediately upon rounding the corner onto the plateau. Wood smoke hung heavily in the air as the elf was confronted with the charred remains of the outpost shelter. To his left, he saw that the beacon too had been reduced to a pile of smoldering bricks and rubble. Adopting a much more cautious approach, he called out to the monks supposedly on duty. No reply. Stepping carefully around the front of the shelter¡¯s remains to the overlook, staff at the ready, he peeked into what had been the building¡¯s interior, fully expecting to find corpses, again nothing beyond the barely discernable shapes of expected object ¨C a blackened oil lamp, the remains of a meditation mat. Looping around the blackened hull he inspected the beacon area. No bodies, just the broken pile of bricks, mortar, and smoldering coals he saw initially. The wood pile had also been toppled, with logs splayed across the ground. He did note one peculiarity. The rear of the clearing behind the beacon was teeming with ladybugs. Hundreds of them, writhing and climbing over each other in reckless abandon, blanketed across the ground and the lower limbs of the trees that framed the outpost. The consistency with the scene Usha described at the abbey led Tsuta to conclude that the hook-headed creatures had been here as well, but where were the outpost occupants?This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Returning to the overlook, he quickly fell into the watch routine ¨C scan the pass, the mountainside, the peaks ¨C looking for any clue to help him understand how the outpost had been breached. That¡¯s when he saw them. Directly below the overlook, two bodies in the white robes of the Luminarium lay twisted into unnatural positions from the two-hundred-foot fall, blood splattered across the rocky precipice that became their final resting place. It was what he didn¡¯t see that the elf found most curious. Quickly returning to the footprint of the shelter he took a more thorough examination of the structure¡¯s contents and found what he was looking for, stepping out into the fading afternoon sunlight he examined the charred remains of two staves he knew to be the standard oaken issue of the Luminarium. Turning back to the overlook, Tsuta closely examined its stone construction ¨C both the patio stones and the barrier wall that protected the monks from the fall ¨C looking for any evidence of a fight. The stone was very forgiving, so unsurprisingly, he found nothing. Not a fresh gouge or even a scratch to suggest a struggle. Whatever had happened here had taken the monks entirely by surprise and something had either thrown them from the overlook or, and he didn¡¯t want to consider this, they had chosen to jump. Either way, he and Usha needed to get to the southern outpost immediately, before darkness fell. Bundling the two blackened staves of his fallen companions in his left hand with his own, Tsuta flew down the stairs back towards the resting dwarf below. Usha felt the vibrations of his return as she caught her breath, her dwarven senses finely attuned to stone and all its characteristics. Only one person and moving quickly - that can¡¯t be good. She rose and turned to face the stairs just as Tsuta came around the descending curve into view. ¡°We gotta go Raven!¡± he shouted as he closed the distance between them. ¡°Why? Where are the others?¡± She asked somewhat confused. ¡°Dead. We¡¯ve got to get to the southern beacon before we lose daylight. We¡¯ll need to run.¡± By this point, he had come to a halt beside her. Usha began to protest ¡°But I don¡¯t think I can¡­¡± Before she could finish the sentence, Tsuta began to mutter some words she didn¡¯t understand, and his left hand began to glow and crackle. He had anticipated her exhaustion. Placing his hand on her shoulder the dwarf drew in a sharp breath as the healing magic coursed through her. To Usha, it felt like she had just awoken from a full night¡¯s sleep. Instantly, the ache in her legs was gone, along with the burning in her lungs. Incredible! She had never been the recipient of magic before. ¡°Better?¡± He asked, holding her gaze. ¡°Wow. Yeah, I¡¯m good!¡± she nodded. With that, the two of them took off towards the southern outpost at a dead run disappearing into the lengthening shadows.