《To Steal From a King》


 Betraying Ones Kingdom

    Betraying the kingdom he had grown up in was the last thing he had expected to do this day, and yet here he was; riding to do just that.


    He had no warning, no time to plan.


    One moment he had been settling down for the night with a drink, and the next he was saddling his horse and racing from the castle. Now, his horse was heaving for breath as it trotted through the forest.


    The suddenness of it made his head swim and his skin crawl.


    He had everything and now had nothing. His uncle who raised him like a father would kill him on sight. If his uncle failed, his cousin or friend, Jaten, would be sure to finish the job.


    There was no going back, and nothing to hold on to.


    A low-hanging branch was within reach, and absentmindedly, he touched one of the ashen leaves. It crumbled to powder at his touch. The blight was ¡ª as far as anyone could tell ¡ª not toxic to humans, but lethal to plant life.


    When had it gotten this far? Almost a full day''s ride away from the castle?


    Venic took in a breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm his thundering heart.


    Everywhere he looked, grasses, brush, and trees were all gradually fading from their brilliant colors. Once it spread through the whole plant, the brittle leaves would drop and the plant would die. Before long, this entire forest would be ash, as if a fire had come and gone.


    Every treatment tried never worked because the problem seemed to be deep within the soil itself. The blight could starve out the whole kingdom, and it was spreading faster than he ever could have imagined possible.


    Movement caught his eye.


    The trees opened into a large clearing. Within it, a wide but shallow creek snaked through beds of rock and moss that, while once emerald, were void of saturation. Alongside the trickling waters, amongst a large set of boulders, was a group of people from another kingdom. Wylfaren ¡ª the neighboring kingdom to the east ¡ª had sent them in a last desperate attempt to save themselves.


    This kingdom was spreading its borders as far as possible, and Wylfaren was next and knew it. So, they were acting first, and Venic was their first move.


    ¡®This is it, then.¡¯ His hands went clammy in their gloves, and suddenly his armour felt suffocating.


    As he stopped before them, Venic made one last glance to the forest behind him. He was both scanning the area for any movement and wishing desperately that he could turn around.


    The landscape was empty.


    The king''s men had not caught up.


    Not yet at least.


    For now, as Venic approached the group, they were alone in the clearing in the woods. They had nothing but the sound of birds and the roar of a nearby river to keep them company.


    ¡®Just do what you came to do and get out,¡¯ he told himself, though he seriously doubted it would be that simple.


    The leader of the group, Veskitarm, sat atop one boulder and glared at Venic with an oddly disappointed expression. He didn''t bother to stand and greet him, just simply swished a wineskin in small circles.


    When Venic had last seen the man, he¡¯d been a young boy and Veskitarm had seemed much taller and far more intimidating. Now, all Venic saw was a slim, weasel-faced man that Venic wagered was shorter than he.


    ¡°As one,¡± Venic called as his horse came to a stop in front of them. It was the motto common in the Kingdom of Wylfaren.


    ¡°As one,¡± Veskitarm replied blandly, then nodded to a particularly large man who had moved to stand at Venic¡¯s horse¡¯s flank. ¡°My friend and I had a bet on whether you would show or not. Looks like I owe him his share!¡±


    Venic narrowed his eyes, reached into his belt pouch, and retrieved a scroll. It was so small it had been delivered to Venic¡¯s rooms waxed and pinned to the bottom of a wine cork. He showed this to Veskitarm who barely bothered to glance at it. ¡°I received your orders. Why wouldn¡¯t I show?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve done well for yourself since we sent you here, kid. Too well, even.¡± Veskitarm sneered. ¡°Didn¡¯t even have to come here to hear about you, Ironclaw Swordsman. Four years reigning champion¡­news of you has spread far.¡±Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    The men with Veskitarm positioned around Venic, blocking all directions.


    He did not trust where this was going.


    ¡°It was five years.¡± Venic corrected with a hint of a snarl. ¡°But you¡¯re making this sound more complicated than it is. I had my role to play in order to gain their trust. It was part of the job. I have never had the opportunity to choose what I do as a knight.¡±


    ¡°Oh! Five years, he says! Good for you, Ser Ironclaw. How lucky we are to have someone so dutiful in his role with us. My, you even helped kill the Queen of Palenwood!¡± The man''s face darkened. ¡°Who, I might add, just so happened to be a strong ally to Wylfaren; your true kingdom by birth.¡±


    A kingdom he barely remembered but was chained to all the same.


    Venic sighed heavily, pretending this was a mild annoyance even as his skin prickled with a sense of danger. A quiet sound of stretched leather came as his gloved hands tightened around the reins.


    ¡°I had no choice. I could either play the part, or gain the suspicions of the court. If I did not go all in, then the people would have sensed something, and it would have all been for nothing.¡± He could feel the tensions rising, so Venic pulled off his helm and ran a hand through his sweat-damp almond hair. People tended to find him less intimidating without the helm covering most of his face, so maybe removing it would help. Maybe. ¡°Besides, it is all over now anyway, so what are you so apprehensive for?¡±


    ¡°Over, is it?¡± Despite the change, the man''s ugly sneer stayed on his narrow face. ¡°Then you would not mind a show of good faith?¡±


    One of the men behind Venic chuckled. They had remained silent for their leader, but Venic could feel the intensity of their gazes.


    Venic felt his fingers twitch, eager for his sword. ¡°What do you have in mind?¡±


    ¡°First, if you please¡­¡± Veskitarm motioned to the ground beside Venic¡¯s horse. There really was no choice. Where did Venic have to go if he ran? All his options were gone the moment he decided to follow his instructions last night.


    Venic hesitated only a moment, his eyes darting between the men. He slid out of his saddle; his plate armor clinked with his descent.


    Standing beside his horse, Venic raised a brow expectantly and shrugged. ¡®Now what?¡¯


    Veskitarm put out a hand. ¡°Give it here.¡±


    Again, Venic hesitated. There was something in that expression, something in the way all the soldiers were so tense. Still, he reached into his saddlebag and brought out a round object that he had hastily wrapped in a tunic before his escape.


    This brought Veskitarm from his perch. He slid from the boulder, snatched the orb away, and opened the wrappings. His gaze fell upon the brass ball and his smile grew. The puzzle of the long past Queen Dallylyn. It was also something of which Venic was sure someone as dull as Veskitarm would never be able to even come close to solving.


    It had been in the king¡¯s treasury for centuries, and even those with a lifetime of education failed to discover its secrets. So, there it had waited on display within a glass case until last night.


    ¡°Good. Good,¡± Veskitarm cooed, then quickly covered it back up and slid it into a satchel on his side.


    Venic frowned. Veskitarm could have at least given back the tunic.


    ¡®Blasting ugly asshole. I have seen prettier things left in chamber pots than your face.¡¯


    ¡°Now for the test.¡± Veskitarm snapped his fingers, and the men closed in on Venic.


    ¡°What is this?¡± Venic asked, trying to hide the panic from his expression as he eyed the advancing men. ¡°I came here, didn¡¯t I? I followed every order. Every single one! I played King Guwarfen¡¯s game for years! Why are you doing this?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I assure you, it is nothing personal, pet,¡± Veskitarm said in a mockingly soothing tone. ¡°We are just taking precautions. Always err on the side of caution, and all that. You know how it is. You will remain bound until we reach the border.¡±


    Venic sucked in a breath, but resisted the urge to grab his sword.


    They pushed him to his knees and wrenched his wrists behind his back to bind them.


    ¡®Blast,¡¯ his mind whirled. ¡®I am dead if I run. They might kill me if I stay.¡¯


    Veskitarm moved to Venic¡¯s horse ¡ª the horse that had cost all his savings ¡ª and started loading things into the saddlebags.


    Again, his sword hand itched.


    ¡°What about the other pieces?¡± Venic said.


    ¡°What about them?¡± Veskitarm asked, disinterested while he worked.


    ¡°You expect me to remain bound while we climb the mountain? Then again as we visit Palenwood for the third?¡±


    The narrow eyes on that weasel face flashed dangerously, and that expression told Venic everything he needed to know. Veskitarm already knew about the other pieces.


    Before her passing, the dryad Queen Dallylyn had long outlived her husband and raised three sons until they too were grandparents. Then, deciding it was time, she split her kingdom into three, and gifted her sons with a kingdom each as well as a puzzle piece. Alecaven had the orb, Hyllpeak had the sword, and Palenwood had the key. The other kingdoms were now swallowed up into Alecaven, but the two pieces remained lost.


    ¡°You will not be climbing the mountain, and I can assure you that you will survive the walk to Palenwood.¡± Veskitarm waved. ¡°Tie him to the back of his¡ª¡±


    Before Veskitarm could finish, an arrow took him in the side of the face.


    Spooked, Venic¡¯s horse bolted, taking all his supplies with it.


    ¡°Willow!¡± he called, but the horse did not stop.


    Shouts called out and men poured in from the same direction on horseback and broke into a ¡°V¡± formation to overtake the invaders. The Wylfaren men panicked and ran in all directions.


    With his hands bound, Venic had few options in this situation, so he decided to go with the simplest.


    He played dead.


    Diving onto his belly in the mud of the creek, Venic watched as the small group of Wylfaren men either armed themselves or tried to escape. Arrows took out a few before they could touch their swords.


    Venic did not have to wait to know this would be a slaughter.


    He wormed forward into the creek, icy water entered the gaps in his amour and soaked him.


    Horses smashed into the Wylfaren men. Screams came as blood splattered.


    The horsemen split their enemies into isolated pockets to be torn apart in.


    A man stepped on Venic¡¯s back, pushing him deeper under the creek. He tried to push up, but the weight pressed heavily between his shoulder blades.


    Down and down it pushed him until his head plunged under the water.

 Consequences (Venic)

    The pressure lifted as suddenly as it had come and Venic burst to the surface with a gasp.


    Hooves narrowly missed his nose as he hacked water. He had somehow been spared the front hooves, but was now positioned under the horse''s belly.


    Venic rolled out from the path of the horse. A few steps away, one of the Wylfaren men fell into the creek and was speared by the horseman that towered over Venic.


    The horseman had not noticed Venic. Not yet, at least.


    Worming his way forward, Venic reached one of the fallen who had a sword still in hand. Not being able to see the bindings was difficult, but Venic flipped onto his back and pressed the rope against the blade.


    All around was a flurry of movements. Blood splattered the gray plant life and tinted the creek.


    Venic watched the red go by with growing dread.


    His gauntlet saved him from gashing his wrists as his hands were cut free.


    The swordsman burst to his feet and found he was being watched from across the battlefield.


    Jaten. He sat on his horse, and his back arched as he recognized Venic¡¯s armour, and the person wearing it.


    ¡®Blast.¡¯ Venic felt his stomach lurch.


    They locked eyes; he watched his friend¡¯s expression narrow with rage.


    ¡®Not you,¡¯ Venic took a step back.


    Jaten urged his horse forward, and Venic dashed for the forest.


    The creek fed into the roaring river, and reaching across it was a narrow bridge that was no more than three long logs lashed together.


    It was too narrow for a horse, but could he get there? The space between the slope he was on and the bridge was wide open. His limbs felt sluggish from the icy cold waters still weighing him down.


    He ran for it anyway.


    Brush nearly took his feet out from under him.


    If he could just reach it, then¡ª


    The spear blasted him in the back. Despite his armour, Venic felt pain surge.


    Venic dove to the side in time to avoid being trampled by the horse. His armor clicked as he hit the ground and rolled back onto his feet.


    The horse came back around. Both horse and rider faced him.


    Venic still did not pull out his sword.


    "Jaten, stop! We do not have to do this," Venic said, shaking his head. "Please don''t do this. Think of your wife! Think of your family!"


    "This was your choice!" Jaten yelled, pointing his spear at Venic. "This was your doing. I trusted you; we all did! When I heard what had happened, I did not want to believe it. I thought ¡®Venic must have some sort of proper explanation¡¯ and yet here you are, selling off our kingdom''s treasure to some peasants."


    There were no words that could change his friends mind.


    Venic moved into a fighting stance.


    Jaten adjusted his spear.


    They had both been instructed in how to fight mounted soldiers, and that was what Jaten expected Venic to attempt. Instead, Venic darted for the bridge again.


    Jaten¡¯s surprise only lasted a second. He spurred his horse back into action.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    The horse thundered closer.


    Venic dove onto the wooden bridge and the horse snorted and reared back from the wooden logs and the raging waters.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Jaten said, sliding from the saddle. ¡°Have it your way.¡±


    ¡°Jaten,¡± Venic stepped backward across the creaking bridge as Jaten stepped onto it. ¡°We do not have to do this.¡±


    His friend''s face twisted with pain. ¡°Do we not, Venic? Really? After you stole the king''s greatest treasure, and for what? Some money? Is it worth it, Venic? Is it worth betraying everyone?¡±


    ¡°You do not understand.¡±


    ¡°No! You are right! I do not understand!¡± Jaten yelled, stepping forward until they were halfway between the two riverbeds. ¡°Is this who you were the whole time? Was it all fake?¡±


    ¡°Listen! My sister¡ª¡±


    Jaten attacked in an instant. The spear lunged forward.


    Venic deflected it, but only barely. The spear bounced off his armour and Venic brought down his elbow against the shaft.


    The spearhead, and Jatan with it, tipped towards the river.


    The current caught the spearhead, and rather than be tipped further off balance, Jaten released it. The spear was carried away with the current. He grabbed his sword instead.


    ¡°Stop this!¡± Venic begged.


    ¡°I had you at my house!¡± Jaten screamed. ¡°I let you eat with my family! What? Were none of us good enough for you, Venic? You had to go and betray us? Sell us out?¡±


    ¡°It is not that simple!¡±


    Jaten screamed with rage and slashed at Venic again and again. They clashed, dancing on the thin bridge in a series of blows. The clangs of their hits on armor vibrated through the forest.


    ¡®Don¡¯t hurt him,¡¯ Venic¡¯s mind screamed, but his friend clearly did not feel the same.


    When Venic hesitated a hit, Jaten¡¯s sword bashed his armor in again and again.


    ¡°Stop!¡± Venic screamed as a blow crushed into his arm, cutting into it.


    Jaten had a crazed look in his eyes. He was not going to stop until Venic was dead, or near to it.


    ¡°I trusted you!¡± Jaten screamed. ¡°I trusted you!¡±


    Venic felt his chest clench with dread, knowing full well if this one-sided fight continued, it would be the death of him.


    So, he stopped holding back.


    Venic could feel himself slipping into a concentration that commonly came in tournaments. It was a numb sort of feeling as he gave into the movements.


    All pain and noise disappeared, it was just him and his opponent.


    Jaten started coming at Venic harder, faster.


    With light feet, Venic danced upon the logs. He deflected or dodged what hits he could and delivered his own blows.


    Jaten had always been stronger, but Venic was nimbler and clear of mind. It was a dance of blades, and Jaten wasn¡¯t in the headspace to know the steps.


    He slashed and slashed repeatedly, until Jaten stumbled, falling back onto his rear.


    Jaten¡¯s hand shot back to catch himself but hit only water, almost toppling sideways into the current. As he balanced himself, Venic put the tip of his sword to the other man''s neck.


    Both were breathing hard. Both had badly damaged armor.


    ¡°I do not want this,¡± Venic said, and he meant it. He lowered his sword and stepped back. ¡°I do not want to hurt you, Jaten. I will leave it at this. Go home to your wife. Go home to your little girl.¡±


    Jaten¡¯s eyes fell, his expression conflicted.


    Venic turned to leave and heard the movement behind him.


    Instinct had him whirl with his sword.


    By luck, his turn deflected his opponent''s sword blade off his breastplate.


    Venic, on the other hand, did not miss.


    Jaten stiffened.


    Venic felt an icy cold shock wash over his body.


    They both stood in a horrible moment of silence, balanced on the bridge.


    His sword had hit Jaten in the collarbone and had managed to slide up the space between his helm and his breastplate and it went deep.


    His friend''s blood slid down the blade, and Venic started to tremble.


    Gasping, he dropped the sword and it fell, balancing on the edge of the bridge.


    Jaten staggered, then started to fall sideways towards the wild torrent.


    Venic lurched forward, caught him, and somehow managed to stop them both from falling.


    ¡°It is alright,¡± Venic told his friend as he dragged him off the bridge to the riverside they had come from. ¡°You will be alright.¡±


    He lowered Jaten to the ground, and the blood on the armour almost made him freeze. There was too much of it. There was far too much blood.


    ¡°Remove his helm,¡± Venic told himself. ¡°Remove his helm and stop the bleeding!¡±


    Venic yanked off the helm, and Jaten¡¯s head rolled back. Venic reached for something, anything he could use to press against the wound, but the glassy eyes looking back at him made him pause. Jaten lay on the riverbank, immobile


    ¡°Jaten?¡± He whispered, but there was no response.


    No movement.


    No breath.


    ¡°Jaten?¡± he asked again, but this time it came out as a croak.


    Slowly, Venic looked from his unmoving friend, then to his own hands.


    He was covered in his friends'' blood.


    His trembles became violent quakes.


    Then the reality of what happened hit him like a wave.


    He screamed, then screamed again.


    His pain echoed throughout the forest as he clutched his head and rocked.


    ¡®No, no, no, no!¡¯


    This was not happening. This could not be happening.


    He was wrong. He had to be wrong!


    ¡°Jaten!¡± he screamed, desperately shaking his friends'' shoulders. ¡°Jaten! Wake up!¡±


    But his friend was dead, and Venic had killed him.


    ¡°Jaten!¡±


    The friend who he had rivaled with, the friend who Venic saw marry, the friend who Venic had fought alongside, was no more.


    Venic felt a sob catch in his throat right as he heard shouts approaching.


    He did not want to leave his friend, not like this, but he also could not stay.


    ¡°I am sorry,¡± he told Jaten. ¡°I am so sorry.¡±


    The apology did nothing to soothe his soul.


    He staggered to his feet and ran. The weight upon him seemed to grow with every step.

 A Puzzle (Valerlanta)

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    Rain slid down the length of her bow as she pulled the arrow back. From her vantage point on a slight ridge, she could see the boulders and creek.


    Cloaked by the tangled greenery, Valerlanta stood beside a tree with careful, measured, movements. As long as she moved slow, she knew her earth tones amongst the dense trees and brush made her all but invisible on this small hill.


    There were six soldiers looting the bodies of people who dressed as peasants. Oddly, those peasants were armed with weapons for soldiers. The bodies were bloody, some of which had wounds in the back from trying to run. Out of all those deaths, only one body was from the king''s army.


    While the peasants lay in the mud of the creek, the armoured knight was hoisted on a stretcher covered with someone''s cloak. A sign of respect, while for the others they gave none.


    Valerlanta wanted to think something like how typical that was for their kind, but knew she was not any more honorable.


    ¡°Hurry and finish. They will be here any moment,¡± one of the soldiers said as he and another hoisted the stretcher. The two disappeared from the clearing, and Valerlanta narrowed her gaze on her targets.


    The soldiers that remained overturned boots, patted down clothes, and out-turned pockets. They found coins and other valuable goods but left them scattered on the ground.


    What was happening? Why were they even here?


    To get to this spot, the so-called peasants and these soldiers would have passed the trees carved and painted with the branded hand. There was no missing them ¡ª a bright red in greying woods ¡ª so they knew exactly what they were walking into.


    They were trespassing, and for what?


    One of them grabbed the satchel of a man with an arrow in his head, but before he could open the clasp, her own arrow flew. She did not wait to see if it hit true, just knew that it would.


    Valerlanta swept behind the cover of the tree and took careful, steady, breaths.


    Over the rain, she did not hear the body fall, but shouts sounded out as the others took notice.


    Her eyes fluttered closed.


    ''Calm.''


    Calm her heart rate, calm her breath, calm her mind.


    By the time she turned the tree again, her heartbeat slowed to leisurely thumps, as if she were on a simple stroll.


    She released another arrow. It hit the man in the throat and he fell beside the other.


    One of the last two remaining locked eyes with her.


    The hiding game was over.


    Next play, then.


    She acted before they could gather their wits.


    The man raised his hand to alert his last companion. Her arrow took him in the leg. He shrieked and fell hard into the creek.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡®Blast,¡¯ a near miss.


    She reached for another arrow.


    The final moving one dove for cover behind a boulder. As he leaped for safety, her arrow struck him. This one hit true, and the man fell still.


    ¡®Three out of four, not bad,¡¯ she thought to herself. ¡®But not good enough.¡¯


    Now only the injured one still moved. He scooched backward into the creek and swung a sword wildly between them. Fear tumbled violently in his eyes, and his chin trembled.


    She could not help but wonder what he saw. Was the cloaked woman in a mask monster-like to him?


    ¡°Wait! Please! Wait! Do not kill me!¡± He begged. ¡°I am worth more to you alive! My family, they¡ª¡±


    ¡°You are worth nothing to me, alive or dead,¡± she interrupted, her voice cold. ¡°It is just that your death is far more convenient.¡±


    Her arrow hit him in the face, and he too fell back. His body landed amongst the people they slaughtered.


    By then the rain roared against the leaves. It moistened the earth and helped to rinse the blood from the surroundings.


    She had to be swift to keep from ruining her bow. Already, she could feel a damp chill on her feet and back. Soon she and her bow would be soaked through-and-through.


    The horses on the edge of the clearing stared at her cautiously, but when she ignored them, they returned the favor. They tugged at their reigns every now then, but they remained quiet witnesses to her presence.


    The soldiers she killed finished most of her job for her, so she pocketed money pouches, jewelry, and weapons. Finally, all that remained was the satchel the man never had a chance to open.


    Like a wild animal with a kill, she eagerly dragged the satchel into the shadows of a bush and flung it open.


    Reaching in, her fingers ¡ª though used to identifying things in the dark ¡ª found something even they did not recognize. She withdrew a round object wrapped in cloth...a cloth that turned out to be someone''s tunic.


    Brows pinched in confusion, Valerlanta unwrapped it. From under the tunic came a brass circular object with four bands of writing of some kind. When her finger touched one of the bands, it spun with clicking noises. Startled, she nearly dropped the orb.


    A perplexed smile crept onto her face.


    What was this? A puzzle? She certainly hoped so.


    One of the horses lifted its head, and another did the same. Valerlanta stiffened, eyeing the creatures through her leafy coverage.


    They pointed their ears in the same direction.


    Valerlanta crept from her bush further into the woods as more soldiers entered the clearing. This time, far too many for her to handle on her own.


    Time to go.


    She moved at a crouch, her steps silent on the soggy greying moss.


    The soldiers spread out in a search formation, and started through the brush. They moved in the direction she had shot from, but Valerlanta was not that way. The thief did not consider herself intelligent, but even she was not that dumb.


    She stalked upstream.


    Their shouts faded behind her.


    As she felt safe to stand and turn, she did so, and a man and woman waited there. Both wore equally annoyed expressions and appeared particularly miserable in their rain-soaked clothes.


    ¡°Gudwen! Opaklen!¡± Valerlanta whispered, smiling innocently. ¡°Fancy meeting you here.¡±


    Opaklen, a tall and thin man, was her father''s close friend and advisor. If her father sent him, that meant she was in serious trouble.


    Gudwen, a middle-aged and well-muscled woman, could locate absolutely everything in these woods. She could find rare flowers and rarer animals, and, it would seem she could also find Valerlanta.


    Their glares told Valerlanta what she needed to know. She wouldn''t be talking her way out of this one.


    Gudwen sent a cautious look behind Valerlanta, searching for any followers. When she saw none, she grabbed Valerlanta by her dripping hood and dragged the younger girl along.


    ¡°I was planning on going back myself,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Shh,¡± the woman lectured. Noise could carry in the forest and in unpredictable ways, and Valerlanta knew that.


    Still, could she help herself?


    No, she could not.


    ¡°This really is not necessary,¡± she said as she stumbled to keep up with the brisk pace of the woman pulling her along. Valerlanta did not try to fight the grip. She wouldn''t dare do that. Rumors said Gudwen could take on a bear with nothing but a knife, and you did not anger people like that.


    ¡°Shut your trap,¡± Opaklen said and received another harsh ¡°shh¡± from the woman that he winced at.


    Valerlanta shrugged with sympathy at him, but he only glared.


    Valerlanta did not have to see into the future to know this was going to be a long and awkward trip back.

 Thieves (Valerlanta)

    The forest of Avelynd held a vast history of human inhabitants that span for thousands of years. Towns and cities rose and fell with the passing of time, but people had their way of leaving their presence even long after they had gone. One of these such places was a mine that had been emptied of its treasures and abandoned.


    Abandoned, that is, until the thieves moved in.


    They took the long and dark shafts and dressed them with wood floors, painted walls, and stolen artwork. The end result almost looked regal.


    And Valerlanta hated every bit of it.


    They could try to cover it up all they wanted, but Valerlanta could not help but be bothered by what lurked under the wrappings. It was not just the way that sound carried down in the depths, or even the chill that the stone walls always seemed to hold.


    For her, it was the lurking of the shadows.


    No matter how many candles or torches they lit, shadows always lurked in the corners. Shadows that reminded her that if those flames happened to go out, she would be plunged into suffocating darkness.


    The grandest of all the pretty wrapped rooms belonged to Nymven, leader of the thief¡¯s guild.


    The office was covered in grand curtains, carefully detailed golden statues, over-brimming chests of treasures, and more weapons than an armoury. All stolen, of course, and now proudly displayed as trophies of his feats.


    He reminded her of a raven, in a way. Nymven was cunning, quick, and had an obsession for collecting shiny things that was a stronger draw for him than any drink or other pleasure the world could offer. These traits alone helped him climb the ranks of the thief guild, and earned him the respect of everyone who followed him.


    Now, however, he was at a loss for what to do.


    Nymven paced back and forth, his arms crossed in front of him and his fingers tapping irritably. The rage seemed to radiate from his body and create a horrible pressure of weight that threatened to smother her each time he passed by.


    Valerlanta dared not move an inch from where Gudwen and Opaklen left her. Not even as she shivered in her rain-soaked clothes.


    ¡°You disobeyed me again,¡± Nymven snarled lowly. It was clearly a statement, not a question, but she hesitated, wondering if he expected a response.


    When the silence lasted, she dared to open her mouth. ¡°I just ¡ª¡±


    ¡°You were supposed to stay here. You are never to go out alone.¡±


    ¡°Father, even the children go out alone. I am an adult!¡±


    ¡°The children,¡± he snarled, turning to face her. His finger tapped her on the bridge of her half-masked nose hard enough to make her flinch. ¡°Do not have to worry about the things you do.¡±


    No matter how many times he pointed that out, that always managed to sting like pinpricks under her skin.


    ¡°It has been years. Surely they¡ª¡±


    ¡°The older you get, Valerlanta, the more you will look like them,¡± he said the last word, them, with such venom, that again she flinched and felt a flush of shame.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    If only she was someone else. If only she was his daughter by blood. They both had green eyes, but that was pretty well where their comparisons came to a swift halt. Even his hair was fiery while her own was blonde; a fact she once tried to correct once as a child by rubbing orange foods in her hair.


    Her shoulders dropped. ¡°It is not like I have blue skin or bug eyes. Won¡¯t people just assume it is a coincidence?¡±


    Nymven sighed heavily, squeezed his eyes shut, and rubbed his temples. Her father often invented masterful plans ¡ª some of which took years to act out ¡ª yet with his adopted daughter he was overwhelmed. ¡°We have had this conversation many times. You know what my response is.¡±


    ¡°It is not worth the risk,¡± she said from memory, quoting him right down to his tone.


    ¡°Exactly so. It is not worth the risk.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°Enough! Tell me what you saw. Say it out loud what you saw in that room all those years ago.¡±


    Valerlanta opened her mouth and closed it again, hesitating.


    ¡°Say it.¡±


    ¡°I do not see why¡ª¡±


    ¡°Because clearly you need to remember, and maybe speaking it out loud and hearing your own words will make it real for you again! Say it!¡±


    Valerlanta suppressed the need to grit her teeth and instead took in a long breath. ¡°The room had people hanging by their feet with their bodies cut open and buckets to catch their blood.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. They were draining them! And do you want that to happen to you?¡±


    ¡°No, of course not! But I do not like being caged, either!¡±


    ¡°Caged! Ha! You are being dramatic. This is hardly a cage, it is simply a temporary inconvenience for you, Valerlanta,¡± he said. ¡°Once I am sure you know enough, once you prove yourself, I will not hold you back. Besides, I am not saying you must stay, you just can not leave alone.¡±


    She could feel herself deflating.


    For the first time, she moved, and that was just to slump down into the chair behind her. Despite her trying not to, Valerlanta turned a hand over. Upon her fingertips, many old scars marred her skin.


    A raw flash of anger burned at the sight of those marks, as if everything was somehow their fault. Both the scars and the past haunted her in the form of invisible chains. They held her in place, keeping all her dreams only just out of reach.


    Worst of all, the scars had another trick.


    As she stared at them, the shadows of the room squeezed closer.


    Her knee bounced as her foot tapped anxiously.


    ¡®Why does this place have to be underground? Couldn¡¯t they have built in the trees?¡¯


    Nymven knelt down in front of her and took her hands, squeezing them. His felt much warmer compared to her damp and chilled ones. Under his touch. she could feel his own scars, though his were more raw - more violent. The brand of a thief seared onto his skin when he was younger than her.


    ¡°It is not forever, Valerlanta,¡± He said. She looked into his eyes and believed them. She always did. Even as the years went by and his red hair started to grey, she still believed him.


    Valerlanta forced a small smile. ¡°Right, well. I suppose I will be punished, correct? What is the bad news?¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow you will go with Dyleik, Ruwen, and Tifale on a mission.¡±


    Valerlanta felt her mouth fall open. ¡°The children?¡±


    She tried to pull her hands away but he held them in place.


    ¡°They need guidance, and you need patience. Dyleik is in charge, and you must do what he says.¡±


    ¡®No.¡¯


    This could not be happening.


    There was no way this was happening!


    Her cheeks and ears burned impossibly hot as the shame hit her.


    Valerlanta felt a swirl of emotions, most of them dark and angry. ¡°A child will be in charge¡­of me?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said flatly, standing up. ¡°That is what happens when you disobey orders, Valerlanta. You never do as I ask, and you barely even try at the missions I give you, if you even go at all.¡±


    ¡°Because you never give me anything but the simplest tasks! I can do more, father! Let me try!¡±


    ¡°More? How can I believe that when you can¡¯t even do what you have now? You are behind on your quota! Do you know how that looks when my own daughter is behind? It reflects on me as bad as it does you.¡±


    Valerlanta reached for her bag. ¡°But father I¡ª¡±


    ¡°I do not want to hear it!¡± He snarled and her hand dropped, leaving the orb where it hid. ¡°Go on the mission, Valerlanta. Please! Just listen for once.¡±


    When she didn¡¯t say more, just sat there still as a statue staring at him in utter shock, he sighed. Leaning in, he pulled her into a hug, and held it even though her arms stayed at her side.


    ¡°Someday I hope you understand why I do all this.¡± He said softly.


    Someday.


    Someday she would understand.


    Someday she would be free.


    All things important were always pushed into her future and never in her grasp.


    ¡°Yes, well, I had better go,¡± Valerlanta gently pushed him away, refusing to meet his eyes. ¡°Mission to get ready for and all that.¡±


    She could feel him watching, so she went with a straight posture and a bland expression. Inside, she felt a war of emotions.

 Children (Valerlanta)

    As Lynness arrived, a flurry of movement rushed to greet her. The grand-dressed woman was helped out of her carriage as she trailed long flowing skirts behind her in waves.


    That was their target, and the woman was here for a reason.


    If you want to sell illegal wares, you go to Cireweald. It was something everyone knew, and it had nothing to do with the amount of people living there. In fact, in terms of the local population, the valley had barely enough people to be called a hamlet. Even the official market could only hold a maximum of fifteen stalls at one time, and the goods there were nothing special.


    So, the only main draw was what happened in the shadows, and it was in the ideal location for that. Cireweald was positioned at a crossroads on two major trade routes. On normal days the number of people living out of wagons and inns was greater than the actual population of locals living in the town.


    To accommodate them, the most usual businesses in Cireweald were inns and wagon repairs. Within the inns, there was the normal flare of traveling musicians or talent acts, gambling, and, in the back rooms, trade. That trade was exactly why Lynness was in town.


    While she was trying to convince someone to buy a silver bowl, they were supposed to steal it. There was a time limit, though. Once the bowl was in possession of the market, it was protected by guild laws. So they simply had to get it before any deal could be made.


    Valerlanta watched through her spyglass as Lynness was greeted by two people who bowed in respect. They turned and opened the doors to the grandest inn within the town; The Melted Leaf.


    When she disappeared inside, Valerlanta should have climbed from her tree. They were on a time limit, but she could not help herself. The spyglass tipped upward and stilled on the topmost window.


    No matter how complicated the organization was, they always tended to have a leader hidden at the top, and in this case, it was Askyel of house Lochsell. She could see him through the cloudy glass as he sat at his desk and worked on something there.


    ¡®My own personal target that I can see but can¡¯t go to.¡¯


    A pang of annoyance struck Valerlanta. She lowered the glass and swung from the tree with the grace of a cat.


    ¡°She entered the Leaf,¡± Valerlanta told the waiting group.


    ¡°So what is the plan?¡± A young bounced from foot-to-foot eagerly. She was small, and the youngest of the group, but was fierce beyond her years.


    ¡®What was her name again?¡¯ Valerlanta wondered as everyone looked to the leader of this mission, Dyleik. ¡®Rue? No, that is not right. Ah, Ruwen.¡¯Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Ruwen stood beside her twin brother, Tifale, who was equally as freckled but less than half as fierce. He looked scared even now, and the mission had not started yet.


    ¡°Um...,¡± Dyleik said, licking his lips nervously as his eyes shot to Valerlanta, to the town, then back to her again.


    This is how it had gone since the moment they left the mines. Dyelik would be given a choice to make, and would take an aggravating amount of time to answer. Yes, it was often the right answer, but the waiting drove her crazy.


    Valerlanta sighed and rolled her eyes. ¡°What am I doing here with children? Seriously.¡±


    ¡°You are on a mission.¡± Ruwen snapped. ¡°So pay attention!¡±


    Oh, so the kid had bite. Valerlanta had to admit she was a little impressed.


    ¡®Let it go.¡¯


    But she couldn¡¯t.


    Her irritation writhed and surged for years, and now it was boiling over.


    Valerlanta let her lips curl into a smirk. ¡°Is that an order, little brat?¡±


    Ruwen squared her shoulders and tried to raise herself taller. She was still a good head shorter than Valerlanta but balled her fingers into tight fists.


    Tifale jumped between them and pushed his sister back.


    Pity. At least a fight would have made things a little more interesting while she waited.


    ¡®Stop taking it out on the kids.¡¯


    They had done nothing to deserve her anger and Valerlanta knew that, but the anger was almost blinding.


    ¡°Do not start any fights!¡± Tifale urged his sister, his voice soft. ¡°We are supposed to be a team!¡±


    ¡°She is the one starting it! Do you see how she looks at us? She thinks we are useless.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t take it personally, I don¡¯t have a problem with you,¡± Valerlanta clarified, then tilted her head. ¡°Well, for the most part. What really annoys me is this mission. It is pathetic. A distraction, a grab, and an escape. It is child''s play!¡±


    ¡°So why are you here?¡± Ruwen hissed.


    Yes, why was she here? To please her father?


    Most likely. Valerlanta wanted that, even if no one thought she did. She wanted to become who he was training her to be, but there was a louder voice in her. A voice of greed and curiosity. It spoke of great adventures and mysterious puzzles. A life of freedom.


    And it was winning.


    Her eyes pulled back to the leaf and its topmost room.


    ¡°Good question,¡± Valerlanta said. ¡°You all do not need me. This is a mission I could do solo. Clearly, three of you should be more than enough.¡±


    That was no lie. This should be simple, even for the likes of them.


    There was no reason for her to be here. She could do it. She could leave in search of something bigger, and leave this confining life behind.


    The thought sent waves of goosebumps across her skin.


    Her heart pounded in her chest.


    Dyeleik opened his mouth to argue, but as usual, Ruwen spoke first. ¡°You are right! You are less needed than a burr on my sock, but here you are.¡±


    ¡°Well, then, I will remove that burr and be on my way.¡±


    Valerlanta knew she should stay. She should do her job, mentor these kids, and win back her fathers favor. And yet, as if in a trance, she felt her feet carrying her down the hill towards town.


    It was as if disobeying her father was a drink she could not get enough of.


    Valerlanta never used to be this way, she used to shadow her father faithfully. Lately, however, though she tried her best to make him happy, she found herself failing.


    ¡®I am weak.¡¯ Valerlanta thought as she weaved her way between parked carriages.


    None of the three thieves tried to stop her. They simply watched her go in bitter silence, and she did not look back.

 Walking With Shadows (Venic)

    The problem with the wild was not the wild itself, it was being in the wild and clearly not belonging there.


    All squires learned how to light a fire, how to hunt, and the basics of reading a map. That was, almost entirely, the encompassment of his knowledge of wilderness survival.


    Knights were supposed to have people with them.


    People to collect water.


    People to gather herbs.


    Even people to dig a latrine.


    That was the point of being a knight, he was supposed to lead people, not wander the woods alone.


    Venic did not blame his uncle Dwenden, whom he had squired under. Instead, he blamed this whole situation for not being one that he should have to deal with.


    It had been days since this horrible nightmare began. Days since he first left the castle, and days since he had set off into the forest.


    ''It is horrible out here.''


    Insects bit unprotected skin, branches grabbed hold and cut burning scratches. The berries that looked like food certainly were not trustworthy. He had learned that lesson the very first day after mistaking wild cherries for who knows what they were, which resulted in him sick and feverish throughout the night.


    Venic was sulking and he knew it, but he still could not help think about how unfair this whole situation was.


    Even the very air felt ¡ª


    He froze. A chill swept up his spine and his stomach tied into knots.


    Venic had cleaned his hands each day until they were raw, and yet there it was; brownish-red in his nailbed. They were the smallest of specks, and yet all over again he felt that spiraling pull of guilt-fueled nausea that near forced him off his feet.


    ¡®You have your friend''s blood on you.¡¯


    Scrambling over to the nearby creek he plunged his hands into the glacier waters. Venic scrubbed desperately. He had to get all the evidence off; he had to.


    His fingers numbing from the cold. He continued scrubbing.


    ¡®You betrayed Jaten then killed him.¡¯


    Turbulent emotions bubbled up in him.


    ¡°This is not real,¡± he told himself. ¡°This is not real.¡±


    And that had been his motto as Venic spent his nights shivering against the cold and nightmares, as well as during his days heavy with hunger and dread.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°None of this is real,¡± he whispered out loud, as if that would make it true.


    Venic wanted nothing more than to wake up in his feather bed that always seemed to smell of lavendar. He would open his eyes, and find that this all had been a horrible dream. Then later he would meet with Wilek and Jaten and ¡­¡ª


    He sharply yanked pulled his dripping numb hands from the creek and heard a soft clink against his plate armor.


    His necklace had gone loose from his tunic and was now dangling. The smoothed black stone caught the light reflecting off the creek hypnotically. It was nothing expensive; it was not even made with any sort of precious metals or jewels. The pendant was a simple beach rock with a natural hole through the center that a string had been fed through to fashion it as a necklace.


    He stared at it as if in a trance, and focused on the memory of it.


    As a young boy, he and his sister had been collecting rocks, and he had been so jealous when she had found this one that he threw a fit. Then, over a year later when he was being sent off, she gave it to him as a good luck charm.


    The horrible thing was that ¡ª while he had traces of memory from being with her ¡ª it had been so long that he was not sure he remembered her face. Would he even have any hope of recognizing her if they met again? He had barely been 6 the last he had seen her.


    He had the faint memory of hair that was almond and wavy like his own, but hers was long enough for him to recall comparing it to a horses tail. It was the silly thought of a child, but now it was a memory so rare he clung to it desperately.


    Time had a way of fading memories like dyed cloth left in the sun. Even the bad ones, like watching his parents be executed, were fuzzy beyond repair. Mostly, he just recalled the fear, the confusion, and how raw his throat felt from screaming for people who were already gone.


    Still, even after all this time, the past was tightly binding to that kingdom. All this ¡ª everything that was happening ¡ª was for a girl he was not sure he really remembered.


    She was waiting for him even now. Everything depended on him.


    ¡®Dafelis,¡¯ He thought, as he staggered to his feet. Whenever the dark thoughts tried to freeze him, he repeated that name. ¡®Dafelis, Dafelis, Dafelis.''


    One foot in front of the other; that''s all he had to do.


    Venic felt like he was in half a dream. He could feel the bruises and cuts from where the armour was crushed in and the weight of his weary feet and tired eyes, but the landscape went by in a cloudy blur.


    Just keep walking.


    He just had to keep walking.


    ¡®What am I doing here?¡¯ he wondered, and not for the first time.


    He wanted to go home. He wanted a full course cooked meal, ale, and a feathered bed. But he had given that all up.


    ¡®This was your choice.¡¯


    Every tree, every rock, it all looked the same to him.


    ¡®I am walking in circles. Why did I think I could do this?¡¯


    As Venic was getting ready to give up on the day and sleep it all away and try again tomorrow, evidence of a past avalanche lay before him. The snow and ice had long since melted, but the toppled trees and rocks remained, clearing a path.


    Venic almost cried out in relief.


    He had been going in the right direction! Even if it took longer than expected to get here.


    Mount Hyllpeak rose up high into the clouds, and he stood at the base of it.


    He did not know if he wanted to cry out in relief or panic over the daunting height of it.


    He started the climb.


    Once it became steep, Venic stripped all his armour that was steadily becoming too heavy and confining. He tucked it in a bush, meaning full well to come back for it. However, walking away from it still stung bitterly.


    Venic had worked almost his whole lifetime to become a knight, and even if it had all been for a lie, he earned the right to wear that armour and carry his title.


    Leaving it behind felt like he was parting with a piece of himself.


    ¡®It was never you,¡¯ he reminded himself. ¡®You are a spy; you always were. You just got caught up in your own lie.¡¯


    And it was a lie he very much wished he could have kept living.


    Instead, he didn¡¯t look back at his abandoned armour.


    There was no going back.


    Now, he had a mountain to climb and a castle to loot.

 Black Market (Valerlanta)

    The builder had been careful to use gracious amounts of plaster to remove many handholds, but they had doubted the skills of people like her.


    There were many things Valerlanta was good at. She could pick a lock. She could shoot a bow well enough to win tournaments. She could move silently enough to sneak up on her father. Her best skill, however, was climbing. As a child, Opaklen had taught her, and she had practiced in all her spare time. Then, when she had almost mastered it all, she practiced some more.


    If she didn''t climb, the memories of her past would creep up on her until she could not handle it.


    The obsessive training had a good side, though. It made reaching Askyel''s rooms almost seem like no trouble at all.


    Valerlanta pulled herself in the open window with the silence of a breeze.


    As expected, Askyel sat at his desk. At night he frequented parties; socializing and building clients. When the sun came up, he planned traveling routes or wrote to prospective customers.


    Askyel was a businessman through and through, and it helped him that he was both charismatic and handsome. It made it so that he was not only good at his job, but he was also very well liked. People trusted him even as he pulled strings to get his way.


    The businessman did not know she had crept behind his desk until the edge of her knife pressed against his neck.


    His whole body stiffened.


    Despite the danger, Askyel lifted the quill to keep the ink from ruining the page he had been working on. His other hand reached for the knife she had already spotted beside his left knee.


    ¡°Do not even think about it,¡± Valerlanta whispered in his ear, her voice heavy with amusement.


    His shoulders relaxed, but only the slightest fraction.


    ¡°Ah, Valerlanta. This is an unexpected visit.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that was the idea,¡± she said and the knife flicked away from his neck. Valerlanta sat on the edge of his desk and glanced at the papers. He reflexively scooped them up and tucked them into a drawer. Funny, since he knew very well that she could not read, let alone read anything in the strange code he wrote in. ¡°I need information on an item I acquired.¡±


    Askyel glanced at her dirty clothes then to his desk and a small twitch hit his eye. He was, of course, a man of tidy piles and sparkling stonework; while she spent her days amongst dirt and trees. Valerlanta had little doubt that he would clean the whole room the moment she left.


    Finally, his annoyed eyes lifted to her mask, then to her eyes. ¡°Is it really so hard to make an appointment?¡±


    ¡°I am busy.¡±


    ¡°So you always say.¡±


    ¡°Because I often am.¡±


    Valerlanta brought her pack in front of her, and withdrew the covered orb from deep inside it. She held it out to him with cupped hands, as if she held a delicate injured bird. Askyel took it equally as carefully and removed the wrapping with swift fingers. When they did, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open a little.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°Where did you get this?¡±


    ¡°You should know better than to ask that,¡± Valerlanta said with a mischievous smile. It was a rule. He would not ask where they got things, and those things would keep on coming for him to sell.


    He gave her a pointed stare.


    Valerlanta sighed in defeat, though she did not care either way. ¡°In the woods. I took it off a dead man dressed like a peasant. Some soldiers had killed him and his whole group.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Askyel eyed her for a moment, then went back to analyzing the ball. He let out a small laugh as he spun one of the rings. ¡°It is a puzzle.¡±


    Click, click, click, it went as he twisted the rings.


    ¡°Is it valuable?¡±


    ¡°More valuable than anything anyone has ever brought in this room,¡± he mused, flashing her a smile. The smile was innocent enough, but she knew him well enough to see what was behind it. His dark eyes seemed to question her, judge her.


    ¡®And he wants it.¡¯ Valerlanta realized. ¡®And he wants it without paying for it.¡¯


    Her father might have a business relationship with him, but it was not like that with Valerlanta. Their time together was always¡­complicated. Their feelings for each other were a mix of caution and fascination that often led to games like this.


    Valerlanta smiled back, daring him to play.


    The corner of his mouth curled a little wider, but he did not take her bait to fight. Instead, Askyel set the ball beside her on the desk.


    ''Just like always.''


    After all, last time they had fought, Valerlanta had left him with partially dyed hair.


    They had been younger at the time, and Askyel was just an apprentice for the current black market master. Her father and his master were having a meeting with them waiting outside, when Valerlanta and Askyel started arguing. She didn''t even remember what started it, and she ¡ª judging by the bruises she received ¡ª certainly did not win, but Askyel had not expected her to fight so dirty. The bottle of ink she dumped on his head caused him to wear a hat over his hair for a long time.


    Valerlanta smiled at the memory as she swiftly tucked the ball back into hiding. ¡°What does the script say?¡±


    ¡°That is a good question I can not answer."


    "What? Seriously? Well then. I''ll find someone else."


    "It is not a matter of education. This orb is an ancient artifact with a script much older than I ¡ª or anyone else ¡ª would have the ability to read. It is Dryad script; possibly one of the last examples of it in all of Avelynd.¡±


    ''Dryad?''


    Valerlanta paused, her mind whirling, planning.


    Dryad''s were long-living creatures that ¡ª according to story ¡ª could step in and out of trees as if they had doors. This ability gave them a deep attachment to nature, but with their long lives also came endless knowledge. When they cared to, they could create things beyond human understanding. The Dryads ¡ª like all creatures of magic ¡ª fled during the magic purge, and left little behind to show they had been in the kingdom at all.


    ''Except for one place.''


    Her head snapped up, looking to the window and the forest beyond. The vaguest beginning of an plan began unfolding in her mind, sending her heart fluttering with excitement.


    ¡°Valerlanta,¡± Askyel said in a measured tone, as if reading her thoughts. ¡°Perhaps it would be better if you sold the orb to me and left it at that? There is movement in the woods, and word is that Wlyfaren is planning on crossing the border any day now. The wilds will be full of war. It is often times like this where it is best to lay low.¡±


    ¡°I am flattered! Askyel, I did not know you cared!¡±


    Askyel snorted and leaned back in his chair. ¡°Care? I would argue that you dying would be an inconvenience. Although, without our conversations, I would certainly get more work done.¡±


    ¡°Please. I visit once a season, if that at all. You are so dramatic.¡±


    ¡°I would not expect a carefree wanderer to understand.¡±


    "Yes, well, this carefree wanderer has places to be." Valerlanta tossed him the money she had stolen from the men in the forest. ¡°For your information.¡±


    The bag bounced in his hand a total of three times. Knowing Askyel, he was likely able to tell the amount right down to the coin just from the weight. He nodded and tucked it in a drawer.


    ¡°You can leave through the door, you know,¡± he said as she crossed the room.


    ¡°I can,¡± she agreed, but did not even slow before sliding out the window.

 A Castle in Ice (Valerlanta)

    When Valerlanta reached the base of the mountain, a group of soldiers were setting up camp. Near them, hired climbers inspected ropes and other gear while gesturing at the mountain and debating the best path.


    Valerlanta watched them from hiding for a long moment, and a wicked smile came on her lips.


    The item at the top must be valuable if this many people were out to guard it.


    This was not even the first group she had come across. Small pockets of people were positioned at every climbable trail up the mountain. This was her last option up the mountain, which also meant she needed a way past them.


    There was no way Valerlanta could sneak by quickly enough to get ahead of them.


    So, Valerlanta went above them into the trees.


    Arms stretched out like wings, Valerlanta stepped foot-over-foot. The branches bent as she neared the ends, and she winced as they creaked and groaned. Her feet dodged young shoots, terrified of knocking a leaf loose. If she did, it would surely twirl right down to the men below.


    One leaf, one simple little leaf, could give her away.


    Luckily, her balance was as good as her climbing. Swift hands, great climbing and balance, and archery; those were her claims to fame. Without them, her father would never let her do anything at all.


    When she was past the camp, she dropped from the tree and let out a laugh.


    ''I''d like to see one of my fathers people try that.''


    Her head leaned back, taking in the whole of the mountain.


    It would be a strenuous climb, but she wagered she could make it up and back before dark.


    ''Time to go.''


    Valerlanta hiked at a steady pace until the incline became so steep the only option was to use hand and foot holds.


    She fell into deep concentration, and she found the task both thrilling and relaxing. Yes, climbing was a risk, but it was also a puzzle and she loved those. If you did not plan right, you could end up stranded with nowhere to climb. Grab the wrong area, and you might grab a rock that would fall and bring you down with it.


    For a moment when she was far above, she paused to catch her breath, pressing against the mountainside and looking at the view. The clouds obscured much of the forest floor from view, and what she did see looked tiny in comparison.


    If Valerlanta fell from here, there would not be much of her left intact to find.


    The thought momentarily made her stomach lurch.


    ¡°Alright, up we go,¡± she said, forcing herself to keep moving. ¡°You can take it easy on the way down.¡±


    When she saw the first snow, she knew she was close. It was no more than a patch between some rocks, but it fueled her determination. A chill crept into the air. Valerlanta could soon see her breath and her fingers numbed, but she could not risk climbing with mittens on.


    Higher and higher she climbed until, finally, she pulled herself onto a ledge.


    ¡®No,¡¯ she realized. ¡®Not a ledge.¡¯


    The smooth flat surface was the base of a staircase leading to a castle of stone and ice. It was built into the crescent-moon shaped mountain that formed a half-bowl shape. Within the bowl was a glacier. It was the middle of spring and just this morning she had seen flowers and lush grass, but up the mountain it was a land forever stopped in winter.


    Giggles of relief escaped her as she rolled onto her back and let her exhausted limbs rest.


    Valerlanta turned her head towards the nearest mountain to the one she stood on. The peek looked impossibly far, but long before Valerlanta ¡ª or even her father¡ª was born, great bridges connected this mountain to its nearest neighbor. From there, a spiral of bridges and roads led to the ground, but no longer. According to the story, after the queen died, it became too much trouble for the royals to justify the journey to the castle. It was too high and too hard to get to, so it was abandoned and the bridges destroyed to preserve the memory of it.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    And Valerlanta had climbed it without the help of those bridges at all.


    A tingle of thrill sent goosebumps across her flesh.


    She had done it.


    She climbed Hyllpeak mountain without ropes or guides, and had beat her competition as well!


    Valerlanta pushed to a seat and let her gaze follow a set of narrow stone stairs, up to the castle.


    Some of the structure was brick, but a vast majority was built into the mountain itself. The only indication of where the castle continued were the windows scarring the rocks.


    Valerlanta sat there, breathing hard and staring at the sky for a long moment.


    The air was thinner this high up, so it was taking longer than normal to regulate her breathing.


    ¡®I wonder how the kids did,¡¯ she thought then burst up and shook her head as if to shake the thoughts away.


    This had been her choice.


    Adventure awaited.


    The doors ¡ª huge enough for a giant ¡ª were open when Valerlanta reached them, and snow and ice had blown in.


    Valerlanta paused in the threshold.


    There were two sets of prints in the snow, as well as frozen blood smears and drag marks.


    The one print was clearly human.


    You could tell a lot from prints. Judging by the foot size, the length of the stride, and several other factors, Valerlanta estimated the prints belonged to a male of average height.


    The other prints were not human. Worst of all, it had been dragging kills into here, which meant that its den was likely somewhere within.


    She strung her bow and knocked an arrow before continuing.


    In the main hall, two large statues waited.


    One was a woman with large almond eyes and bat-like pointed ears, and beside her was a human man with a large beard. In one hand he held hers, and in the other he held a sword.


    The Dryad queen Dallylyn and her husband Rumleke.


    Valerlanta considered them and felt her hand raise to trace her own face, stopping on the cheekbones there under the leather.


    She shared none of their features, she thought, but it was their fault all the same that she had to wear the mask. Valerlanta supposed she should feel something looking at her ancestors, but her father had been all the family she had ever known.


    Her blood family were strangers to her.


    Continuing on, she found a large hall with stained glass windows. Some were broken, but others cast a strange rainbow of colors across the castle hall.


    Upon the glass, a man stood before a flowering cherry tree with an axe, and in the next panel that tree was an injured woman. The woman ¡ª who Valerlanta assumed to be the queen ¡ª was obviously not human. She had those strange pointed ears, petal pink skin, and black doe-like eyes that filled in the whites completely.


    The final panel showed them holding hands and standing with touching brows.


    ¡°Adorable,¡± she said dryly as she continued on.


    There was one benefit to the cold; the castle froze in time. It still had its lush blue carpets, and careful woodwork. When Valerlanta peeked into rooms, she found crates of storage, bedrooms, and reading rooms. All with the furniture intact, as if the residents of this castle could come out from a room at any moment.


    There was only one thing frequently haunting these halls, though, and she was following it¡¯s scratch marks.


    Along the way, Valerlanta found a bedroom unlike any other. It had long dead ivy clinging to the stonework of the walls, starting from pots on the ground or on furniture. The tangles crept along the roof to meet at the canopy of the grand bed. Little objects with gears hung from the window, and several more hung from strings on the roof. A few of the contraptions looked like birds, others like stars.


    According to stories, the Dryad were far more advanced than humans, and she believed it. They did, after all, live longer than humans so it only made sense to her that they would find talents to fill their long lives with.


    Every item in here would all be worth a fortune, but she had very little room to spare.


    Upon a table was a tree small enough to fit in her pack. It was silver, had dangling leaves of crystal, and a spent candle below the canopy.


    Curious, she tapped the canopy and felt a shock so strong it made a ¡°pop¡± sound.


    Valerlanta jumped back, whispering all the curses she knew and shaking her hand.


    ¡°What in the toad turd was that?¡± she snarled.


    The trunk sparked, and the candle flickered to life. The canopy spun in slow circles, and sent brilliant beams dancing across the room.


    Where she touched it, she saw a pinprick of blood.


    Her blood.


    It stole blood from her.


    ¡®Blast¡¯n tree,¡¯ she took a step back, an unsettling feeling sinking in.


    The tree played a tune ¡ª one she did not recognize ¡ª and there within the notes of music she heard a voice. A voice that sent goosebumps across her flesh and her heart slamming.


    ¡®Come closer,¡¯ the tree said and Valerlanta immediately turned for the door.


    ¡°Forget it,¡± she said as she went. ¡°I am not that stupid.¡±


    ¡®Come back,¡¯ it whispered.


    ¡°Not likely,¡± she replied.


    The thief hurried out the door and down the hall.


    ¡®Come back,¡¯ it said then. When she didn¡¯t, the words got louder and more desperate. ¡®Come back, come back, COME BACK!¡¯


    Valerlanta covered her ears, but it did no good. The sound was in her head.


    Instead of listening to a strange voice coming from a strange object in a strange castle, Valerlanta ignored it. It wailed and begged, and she pretended it was not there.


    Valerlanta moved from hall to hall, then stopped at the entrance to the throne room.


    Her goal, and, worryingly, the den of the dragon.


    The throne room had several small skylights on the steep roof with curved glass. Somehow, that glass helped to both heat and light the room.


    Perhaps that was what made it the ideal choice for the dragon.


    There were two thrones of equal height; one made of curving ivy-like wood, and one of stone. They were positioned between a circle of large pillars that seemed made to draw the eyes to those two seats


    In front of those thrones the dragon had deposited its large pile of treasure.


    ¡®Come back!'' The voice shrieked so loud it seemed to rattle her brain.


    Valerlanta held her temples, waiting for the pain to pass.


    When it did, the voice went silent.


    A sharp point dug into her back right below the shoulder blades.


    ¡°Do not dare move,¡± a deep voice said.


    ¡°Bloody blast¡¯n tree,¡± she cursed.

 The Girl and the Monster (Venic)

    Do not move,¡± Venic warned. ¡°Not an inch.¡±


    Venic considered the boy from behind with a hurried assessment. He was not wearing the clothes of a soldier, nor did he appear to have any with him. Instead, he had a slender build and was wearing woolen and fur clothes that had been died greens, browns, and other earthy colors. He had a hood up, and a fur trim blocked Venic from seeing his face.


    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Venic asked.


    ¡°Same thing as you, I would wager,¡± said a voice that was a little too high-pitched for what he expected.


    ¡°Lower your hood.¡±


    And the they did, and it turned out there was no boy at all. The top half of her face was covered by a brown leather mask, but it did not hide her full lips nor softly curved chin. She had a mischievous look in her emerald eyes that was far more curious than fearful, despite the fact that he had a blade to her back.


    That unnerved him.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± He asked, his voice coming out in a snarl. A glimmer came to her eyes.


    She was planning something.


    Before he could say anything else, with insane speed, she reached into her belt pouch and brought out the puzzle ball. Venic felt his eyes go wide as all the pieces came together. She had stolen it from the men he had left by the bridge.


    How? Did she sneak? Or did she kill them?


    ¡°Give that to me,¡± he snarled. ¡°How did you get that? You are not supposed to have that.¡±


    ¡°Oh, really? Well, I consider it mine now,¡± she mused, turning towards him and taking a step back. Back towards the light of the throne room. Back to the den of the dragon. ¡°You see, it was on the body of a dead man in the forest, and I found it, so that makes it mine now, I would think.¡±


    ¡°Stop! Stay there.¡±


    ¡°Stay where? Here?¡± She mused in an innocent tone before taking another step back.


    ¡°Stop!¡± He ordered, and she retreated once again.


    ¡°When? Now? Or,¡± another step back, this time into the well-lit throne room where he was sure a dragon would be waiting. ¡°Or perhaps here.¡±


    Even as light came across her, lightening her blonde hair and half-mask covered face, her mischievous smirk widened. She was not scared at all. Did she not know about the dragon? No, she had to. How could she not? The blood, the scratch marks, and the hoard were all obvious.


    No, she knew. She simply did not care.


    ¡®She is dangerous. Dangerous, or insane.¡¯


    Venic tried to wave her back over to him, and it only made her laugh. The knight had known people who fought dragons in teams for sport, and every time a great many of people don¡¯t make it. Yet there she was, her hands still up in surrender, walking backwards into the dragon den.


    His own feet stayed frozen in place, and she noticed. Her smile grew a little darker.


    She tucked the puzzle ball back into the pouch and scanned the area.


    Did the crazed woman even know what she was looking for? She couldn¡¯t have. There were only three written explanations of the puzzle, one given to each of the Dryad queens children. Now, they were closely guarded secrets; a single paper in each kingdom with no copies. The ancient kingdoms had all been swallowed up by Avelynd, but the ball had been the only piece found. Only recently did a man find the instructions telling where the one here was, and it was ransomed off the information to anyone willing to pay. That was, until, the king had him killed. Still, if their sources were right, only a small handful of people should know.


    Not her.


    Not some forest commoner.


    Venic hesitantly stepped into the room.


    It was a round throne room, and perhaps the most grand he had ever seen. Despite its age, the white carved stonework on all the walls remained perfect and white as bone.


    The floor had deep blue tile working that started at both the thrones, then swirled to the center of the room. It was likely to symbolize the connection of the rulers to the people.


    Now, it just led to a large pile of junk. Dragons, like ravens, enjoyed collecting things, and this one had everything from a shovel to a statue of gold. It was carefully piled in a ring. He had read once that dragons with an impressive pile were more likely to attract a mate, but right now it looked like a nest of mostly trash.


    The girl was searching the room as if examining it.


    ¡°Do you even know what you are here for?¡± He asked in a whisper. This whole situation was confusing him to no end.


    Who was this unexpected person?


    What was her stake in this?


    Who did she work for?


    ¡°Something of Dryad make,¡± she said without bothering to look at him.


    ¡°That is all you know?¡± He scuffed, trying to edge closer to her, but without even looking his way, she stepped equal movements away. ¡°You know we are in a Dryad-made castle, right?¡±


    ¡°It won''t be that hard, not really. I know this orb I have here is near priceless. If you are here and the men at the base of the mountain, that means there is indeed another one,¡± she said. ¡°So, where does a king put a piece of treasure that is too costly to use, but too precious not to display? You do not put it behind the king. No, the commoners are not supposed to look him in the eye, so that would be no good. Instead¡­you put somewhere both the king and commoner alike can see.¡±


    The strange girl swiveled on her foot so her back was to the throne and smiled triumphantly. Venic could not help but follow her gaze, and when he did, he held back several curses.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    She had found it.


    She didn''t even know what she was looking for, and she had bloody found it.


    The sword was above the door, chained with thin links to the wall and closed with a lock. The walls on either side were smooth and unclimbable.


    How was he supposed to¡ª


    Venic felt his jaw drop as he watched the girl use the carved vine designs on one of the pillars to climb it as easy as a ladder. The roof had beams reaching across, but none that led to the space above the door. Still, she leapt for the nearest beam, and somehow managed to hang by her only her fingertips. Her feet dangled. She still had several feet of open space between her and the sword. A fall from that height would easily be deadly, and yet, she started swinging her whole body forward and back.


    ¡°She is insane,¡± he said under his breath before she let the momentum of her swing launch her into the air. She flew, and hit the ledge above the door with a grunt. Despite how much that must have hurt, she pulled herself onto the gap barely big enough to fit her feet onto.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Venic whispered, shaking his head. There was no way he was doing that. There was no way he could do that. Venic considered himself athletic, but the way this girl moved reminded him of those groups of preforming acrobatics, and that was beyond his ability.


    With expert balance, the strange girl knelt at the sword and brought out lock picks.


    ''Lock picks?''


    A girl in forest clothes who had stolen the puzzle ball and had lock picks.


    ¡®So,¡¯ Venic reasoned. ¡®She is either one of those outlaws, or a cutthroat.¡¯


    Quicker than he would have ever expected, the chain fell from the sword, and the girl strapped the weapon onto her hip. She sent him a sly smile.


    ''Yes, I see you did it,'' Venic thought bitterly. ''No need to rub salt in the wound.''


    Before he could wonder how she would ever get down, she simply dropped onto the door frame by only her fingers, and let go. It had been impossible to climb, but the drop from that height was low enough to not kill. She landed in a roll, smiling wickedly at Venic.


    His whole body tensed with cold horror.


    ¡°Stop! Wait! Do¡ª¡±


    She ignored him, turned, and hit a bottle with her foot. Her shoulders flinched as the bottle clattered across the tiles, then stiffened as it rolled right to a claw long and wide enough to rip a person wide.


    Attached to that long claw was a dragon. It loomed high in the room, and grew in height as it''s long neck arched back to look at them down its nose. Lips curled back into a sharp-toothed grin.


    It lurched forward.


    The girl rolled right before teeth snapped the air where she had been seconds before. She scrambled away and slipped behind one of the pillars as the dragon advanced.


    Worst of all, she had both the sword and the puzzle ball.


    ¡°Blast,¡± swore Venic, drawing his sword.


    But what was he supposed to do? Fight a dragon?


    She reached for the bow slung over her shoulder. An arrow knocked as a spiked tail came her way. The woman flung herself forward, landing hard on the ground. The arrow rolled away from her, out of reach.


    The dragon snapped forward.


    Venic¡¯s sword took it in the jaw, the steal bouncing off rock hard scales. The dragon withdrew in surprise, and that was all the time she needed to jump to her feet beside Venic.


    The arrow knocked.


    The arrow flew.


    It hit the great beast right in the eye. A deafening roar shook the room as the dragon tossed its head this way and that.


    Beside him, the insane girl moved to shoot another arrow. Instead, Venic grabbed her by the hood and pulled her with him as he ran. Once it was clear she got the hint and was running along with him, he released her.


    Behind, Venic heard a stampede of steps heavy enough to rattle the nearby planes of glass.


    The smooth stone became slick with ice.


    The dragon snarled as it lurched forward.


    Venic and the girl both grabbed onto the nearest corner wall, and used it to pull them around on the slick surface. Teeth missed a meal as they turned the corner.


    The dragon skidded on the ice and hit the wall hard enough to send ripples of tremors. The ancient stained glass shattered. Shards of the story pelted them like rain, cutting at exposed skin.


    Gritting his teeth, Venic tried to shield his face as he kept going.


    Pictures, statues, and tapestries blurred by.


    They made it outside, down the steps, then Venic suddenly stopped.


    The sheer drop was in front of him now, with drifting clouds and tiny scenery impossibly far below.


    He had not thought ahead.


    ''Sard.''


    The girl, not paying attention, slammed into his back. Venic waved his arms to catch his balance, and swore wildly. She could have easily tipped him over, but instead he was lurched back from a yank to his belt. Venic turned just in time to see the dragon approaching. It was not running now, not with his prey facing them.


    That was the way of many wild animals; they preferred to attack from behind, and could often be made cautious if the prey turned to be face-to-face.


    It would judge them as a threat before attacking again.


    This was it. This was as far as he would go. That thought drew a cold feeling in his chest, but he let it out with a breath.


    ¡®Well, might as well make it a good death.¡¯


    ¡°Get behind me,¡± Venic said, stepping past her with her sword raised.


    A hand grabbed his arm. He tried to shake her off until he realized she had removed the sword. She pushed it into his chest, forcing him to grab it.


    ¡°Hold this, will you?¡± She asked.


    ¡°What are you¡ª¡± He trailed off as she ran towards the dragon with only a simple dagger as a weapon.


    Only then did Venic notice she was missing a glove and the bare hand was dripping red liquid from the wrist.


    The dragon snapped at her and she fell backwards, letting the ice carry her under the beast. As she went, she dragged her hand behind her, leaving a trail of blood that reacted violently. The ice under that red trembled and bubbled, as if eager to move.


    Her slide stopped under the dragon''s belly.


    Rolling out between its legs, she slammed her hand to the ground. The ice fractured upward into a barrage of large spikes that slammed like knives into the dragon. She was clenching her wrist to stop the bleeding as he ran up beside her.


    What had he just seen?


    Before he could think about it further, a large gust of winds hit as the dragon beat its wings. Icy shard pelted in every direction.


    The ice had not pierced the scales.


    It turned toward them. Heat waves barreled out of its nostrils.


    ¡°Blast,¡± The girl said, and he had to agree.


    ''My turn. Time for a new plan.''


    Before he had a chance, however, the ice under their feet groaned like an old man. That was followed by a series of pops. Cracks snaked along the ice, getting deeper and wider by the second.


    Both the knight and the girl exchanged looks of horror.


    ''There is no way.''


    How could he be that unlucky?


    But he knew he was. They before running towards the stairs. The dragon gave chase; leaning it¡¯s long neck to snap.


    The ground tiled as the ice folded heavily behind them in great sheets of tumbling ice.


    Venic jumped, landing hard against the stairs. The dryad sword he had been clutching clattered on the old stone. Venic whirled back in time to see the girl follow suit, but was too far away.


    Her chest hit the bottom stair. Her nailed tried desperately to dig into the stone, and found nothing to grab hold of. She slid downward.


    Behind her, the dragon unfolding its wings and squealed. The ice had not been enough to pierce the scales, but it had been enough to pierce the membrane of the wings. It flapped wildly, but it was not enough.


    The dragon fell with the ice.


    The girl would soon follow. Her body hung precariously over the ledge, pulling her towards the same doom.


    Clearly, whatever had happened with that ice and blood before would not save her now.


    Her fingers slipped over the ledge.


    Lurching forward, his hand slapped around her forearm. Venic grunted as he suddenly held all her weight.


    She gawked at him; confusion blending with the terror in her eyes.


    ¡°Do you know the forest?¡± He asked


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Do you know the forest?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°How about a deal?¡± Venic asked, letting her hang there. One slip of his hand, and she would be at the base of the mountain looking like flat-bread. Already, her weight ¡ª though not particularly heavy ¡ª was already causing his strained muscles to tremble. ¡°Swear to help me and I let you live.¡±


    She gave a nervous laugh. ¡°Not much of a choice then, is there? I swear to help you.¡±


    He did not know if he believed her, but Venic pulled her up.


    She gasped beside him, trembling but smiling.


    ¡°Well, today was not what I expected, but it was fun,¡± she said and Venic raised a brow at her.


    ¡°You and I have very different definitions of fun.¡±


    That settled it.


    She was certainly both insane and dangerous, and he just made a deal with her.

 Not A Witch (Valerlanta)

    When Valerlanta had killed a person for the first time, it had felt like this.


    She had been very young then, and the boy had been a little older than she, but he was jealous of her sudden relationship with her new father. The boy meant to smother her in her sleep, and nearly had, but her father had gifted her with her first knife that very night.


    It only took one impact of the blade, and he was dead. At the moment, she had felt almost nothing. It was the seconds after, once what she had done fully had time to sink in, that realization hit hard. Her body had gone cold, her head swum, her stomach flipped, and her breath came in gasps.


    Despite that being so many years ago that she could not even count them, that same feeling was surfacing again.


    After she and the knight finished their descent, Valerlanta had expected to have to sneak them past the camp. Instead, she found a mound of rocks, snow, and ice.


    Only two tent poles stuck through some rocks, now bare of any fabric. Did the people even have time to register what had happened? Valerlanta desperately hoped not. From the height and speed all this fell from, they should have died instantly.


    If not¡­ it had taken both her and the knight hours to descend the mountain. Had anyone lied aware of the weight pressing on them and suffocated under the¡ª


    The thief put her hands on her head, pressing her temples.


    No, she could not think of that.


    The forest was eerily silent.


    Knight and thief stood at the edge of the disaster, shocked into stillness.


    ¡°I killed them all,¡± The words came, and hearing herself say them out loud sent a pang of pain spiraling in her chest. Valerlanta had killed before ¡ª many even ¡ª but somehow killing people by accident, without a single cause, made her cold.


    Even the monstrous trees Valerlanta had climbed before lay fallen and broken in every direction.


    ¡°Yes,¡± the knight said, bitter rage leaking into his voice despite his blank expression. ¡°You did, witch.¡±


    ¡®Witch.¡¯


    The simple pang in her chest turned to feel like her very ribs were tightening like a vise. Valerlanta recoiled. ¡°I am not a witch.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± The man started stomping down the rocky terrain and back into the forest. ¡°I saw what you did with that ice.¡±


    Valerlanta hesitated, her gaze bouncing between those long beyond help, and the man striding away. She rushed to catch up with him. ¡°It is true! I am no witch.¡±


    ¡°Oh, is that so? You mean just anyone can control ice on a whim?¡±


    ¡°I did not say that. I just said I am not a witch. Witches draw power from the world around them, and left when the great purge happened. Within the borders of the king, they are powerless.¡±


    ¡°If not a witch, then what are you?¡±


    Valerlanta opened her mouth, then closed it again, hesitating. No one was ever supposed to know about her magic, but he had already seen it. Besides, she had to admit that a part of her was eager to tell someone. This secret ¡ª the very reason why it was so dangerous if someone discovered her bloodline ¡ª had been one that only she and her father knew. It was how things were; she was expected to lock her magic away within herself, and never use it and never speak of it.


    This felt like a small freedom. Hopefully one that would help distract her from the graveyard she created.


    ¡°You will not believe me,¡± Valerlanta warned.


    ¡°Try anyway.¡±


    ¡°Alright, but don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you,¡± Valerlanta blocked his path so she could watch his expression. ¡°My parents were lesser nobles, but they died, so I was raised by someone else.¡±


    He gave her a flat stare and waited, likely for Valerlanta to explain that she was joking. When she didn¡¯t, the knight crossed his arms. ¡°You were correct. I don¡¯t believe you.¡±


    Valerlanta threw up her hands in mock bewilderment. ¡°What? Well, I am shocked! Shocked, I tell you. I never saw that coming.¡±


    ¡°You honestly think I am dumb enough to believe a story like that?¡± He moved around her and proceeded on his path.


    ¡°Dumb enough? That depends. Where are we trying to go right now?¡±


    ¡°North. Towards Palenwood.¡±The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Valerlanta nodded, walking beside him. ¡°I see. I see. Can I ask a question?¡±


    The man let out a long, exasperated sigh. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Why are we traveling east, then?¡±


    That halted him. He turned to face her, and she could not keep the amusement from showing her face.


    ¡°We are not going east right now. We came down the east side of the mountain. Palenwood is that way.¡± He pointed, and Valerlanta raised a brow.


    ¡°What?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Point again.¡±


    Reluctantly, he did, and Valerlanta pressed a finger to his wrist, moving it until it was facing the correct way.


    ¡°You were doing fine, really, until we reached this valley,¡± she told him.


    A hopeless shift of eyes took in the thick trees and brush around him. Failing to find a landmark, he ran a hand through his wavy almond hair, looking exhausted.


    Valerlanta had heard stories of knights; everyone had. They were always the sort of tales spun with bravery, beast fights, and good moral judgment.


    Yes, she had to concede that he had done at least two of those things, but at the same time, he was downright pitiful. Blood and mud splotched his once grand embroidered silk tunic, and sweat matted his wavy almond hair.


    He might be able to fight a dragon bravely or even lead an army to victory, but he had been beat by trees and earth.


    Were all knights this pitiful with the wilds?


    ¡®There is a chance I can use that soon...¡ª ¡®


    ¡°You know, whoever is after you won¡¯t try to track us at night,¡± Valerlanta said. ¡°Even if they somehow find our tracks in all that chaos at the base of the mountain, they will wait until morning. This place is as good as any; we can make camp here.¡±


    The thief had expected him to put up a fight, but he deflated with relief onto a log with slumped shoulders.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°Do that.¡±


    ¡®Do that?¡¯


    ¡°By our deal, I am a guide, not a slave, knight,¡± she said. Though she was already zig-zagging around the small clearing; gathering what she needed. ¡°Just so you know, the only reason I am doing this is because I don¡¯t trust what you¡¯ll try to build.¡°


    And that was true. What would a pampered thing like him know about wilderness shelters?


    ¡°Whatever you say, witch.¡±


    ¡°Still not a witch,¡± Valerlanta called back.


    ¡°Why are you even bothering to build anything at all? We can just sleep under the stars.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Holding the ridgepole up against the tree, she lashed it to the trunk with practiced ease. ¡°You can do that if you want, but I am sleeping out of the rain.¡±


    ¡°It is not raining.¡±


    ¡°My, did you really crawl right from the arms of your doting servants? The humidity is rising. Can¡¯t you feel it? A storm is coming in.¡±


    ¡°This is ridiculous. Why am I even taking this lip from you? You should know your place.¡±


    Valerlanta raised a brow at him. ¡®You would have died on that mountain without me, you ass.¡¯


    And so would she without him, but Valerlanta refused to admit that bit.


    ¡°My place is no lower than yours. Besides, don¡¯t think that I am too stupid to make connections. You did something to be out here all alone. What did you do? Abandon your post?¡±


    His face flinched as if she slapped him. ¡°You know nothing.¡±


    Valerlanta shrugged as she worked; weaving pine bows into the structure with the same method one would use for shingles. ¡°Suit yourself, don¡¯t explain. I don¡¯t care either way.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± he said with apparent doubt. He was working his shoulder in small circles as if it hurt. Immediately her mind thought of herbs she had to help with that. Instead, she continued working.


    ¡®Let him hurt. Perhaps a little pain will knock down his arrogance a few pegs.¡¯


    ¡°Can¡¯t you just conjure up a lantern, witch?¡± His brows pinched as he tried to keep track of her movements in the fading light.


    ¡®Or, perhaps pain will not be enough for this entitled brat.¡¯


    ¡°Just like before, and the time before that, I am still not a witch.¡± She threw her flint stone at him, and his eyes narrowed dangerously as it bounced off his sore shoulder. Pretending not to notice, Valerlanta turned her back on him to hide her satisfied smirk. He did, however, set to work on building a fire. ¡°Besides, magic does not work like that. Not the kind I have, at least.¡±


    ¡°What does it work like?¡±


    ¡°It is blood magic, but it is not all powerful. I have to touch what I want to manipulate with my blood, and the magic in me makes a connection. It is like the magic is the middleman; I send out orders through will, and somehow the magic sends the message outward. It is a little like lifting an arm, I suppose. I can not explain to someone how my thoughts can lift an arm, but my arm lifts all the same.¡±


    The roof of her lean-to completed, she moved to one side and started building a quick wall. It was always oddly relaxing, this work. Valerlanta did not know if it was the smell of disturbed earth or pine from the bows, or maybe even the work itself. Whatever it was, she could feel the tension leaving her. ¡°I can make water wave or even encourage a gust of wind, but the longer I do magic, the more blood I lose. Also, the more pliable it is, the easier it is to work with. Manipulating something like rock, for example, is impossible. I could move one if it is not too large, or even split one along a crack, but I can not change its shape like dough. Even with that ice, it looked more impressive than it was. I was not changing the shape of the ice. I put pressure on cracks already there and the ice did the rest.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± The skepticism in that simple sound was sharp.


    ¡°I understand it sounds strange, but it is not that hard to grasp. I have to have an open wound, I have to will the magic to work, and then the magic does the rest. The harder or heavier the object is, the higher the chance of me dying from blood loss.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± He said while trying to light his fire.


    Valerlanta paused in her work to turn to the knight. ¡°Why ask all this if you are not even going to try to believe me?¡±


    ¡°I thought it might pass some time.¡±


    And that was it. That was all he said. Now that whatever entertainment he had been gaining from the conversation had ended, he concentrated fully on building his fire.


    ¡®Seriously?¡¯ Valerlanta blinked at him. The heat of irritation was heating in her chest, and she struggled to stamp out the flames of it to stay calm. ¡®What a privileged ass.¡¯


    ¡°Somewhere out there, a village is looking for their idiot. Found him,¡± Valerlanta muttered.


    ¡°What was that?¡±


    ¡°Oh, nothing.¡±


    Valerlanta finished the lean-to shortly after and sat inside it. Now it was her turn to get entertained by him. He was stubborn, that was clear. Again and again he struck the stone, then called out in a cheer as the sparks took.


    The flames danced to life at the same moment rain started splattering upon the earth. At first drops came in a light sprinkle, then it fell in great sheets.


    His hard-earned fire sizzled as it struggled to stay alight.


    The knight joined her in the shelter.


    ¡°I thought you were sleeping under the stars?¡±


    ¡°Oh, go step in dragon turd,¡± he snapped.

 A Trick Gone Wrong (Valerlanta)

    For two complete strangers that were leaning towards enemies, laying beside each other made sleep a fleeting and delicate thing. Valerlanta woke with every sound with her knife ready, and she imagined he was doing the same.


    He had no reason to attack her¡ªnot if he wanted out of here alive¡ªbut Valerlanta did not want to be too cautious.


    So, when they finally gave up and rose, he looked as tired as she felt. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he squinted at the first glimmers of the sun as if it was an unwelcome visitor.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± the knight yawned, scratching at the stubble on chin as if unused to not having a shaved face.


    ¡°Good morning, knight,¡± she replied flatly. They sat together in the shelter as Valerlanta struggled to get the motivation to get moving. Every bit of her was sore from the events the day prior, and she was not looking forward to the ground she would have to cover today.


    At least the rising sun was pretty. It danced between the leaves of the branches and cast the forest in an enchanting, golden glow.


    ¡°Venic.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°My name. It is Venic, from house Elfailden¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Valerlanta blinked at him. ¡°We are sharing now, are we? Someone woke up in a better mood.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me for trying to make things less awkward.¡±


    ¡°Ha! I don¡¯t think there is much we can do about that. We come from different worlds.¡±


    ¡°Not from what you tell me about why you have your magic.¡±


    Valerlanta winced. She could not help it. This was a weapon Valerlanta had given no one, and so was not expecting the blow to happen so soon. He just had to pick out the very thing that bothered her most.


    The thief turned her back to him as she gathered her things. ¡°My father who adopted me raised me out here, and¡ªas far as I am concerned¡ªthis is who I am and who I ever want to be.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Venic grunted, the disbelief still obvious. ¡°And do you remember your birth parents?¡±


    ¡°I vaguely remember my mother, but only at the end,¡± she said, feeling distant. He waited for her to continue, but Valerlanta kept silent. She did not want to relive those memories.


    The smell.


    The feel of cold that seeped right into her bones.


    The darkness.


    ¡°My name is Valerlanta,¡± she said instead, then burst out of the shelter. She started taking down the camp, carefully tucking the pine bows back into the tree. Eventually, they would discolor, but it might give them extra time if anyone started tracking them.


    The knight, Venic, started mirroring her actions. He pretended not to catch her surprised expression as they both worked in silence.


    Soon, the camp had disappeared, and they were on the move again.


    They walked.


    And walked.


    Both moved tired silence; not wanting to put the effort into words.


    The sun reached the highest point in the sky.Then he caught on.


    ¡°Stop,¡± He ordered. ¡°That mountain was on our right just a moment ago. I know it.¡±


    They were on the top of a ridge with the forest layout beside them for as far as the eye could see.


    ¡°No, it wasn¡¯t.¡±


    It was.


    ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me! I recognize it. That mountain looks exactly like an old man¡¯s nose.¡±


    Valerlanta hid her panic behind a roll of the eyes. ¡°Well, sometimes I have to change direction to go around dangerous terrain.¡±


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


    He would keep on it, and she knew it. A cloud of anger darkened the brown of his eyes. That meant it was time.


    Valerlanta reached into her sleeve and brought out a tiny scroll. ¡°What is this, anyway?¡±


    The distraction worked. The knight stuck his hand in his belt pouch, and, not finding the scroll there, snatched it from her hand. ¡°You stole from me?¡±


    ¡°Oh, calm down. I can¡¯t read, anyway.¡±


    ¡°That is not the point!¡±


    ¡°I was only curious. It is not like I stole your coin or ¡ª¡± Valerlanta paused and raised a hand. A murmur of a voice floated in the air like a dandelion seed; delicate and gone in a moment. Nothing she could make sense of, but she was sure it had been there. Sure it had been a human voice.


    Valerlanta heard the wind. Birds. No voice.


    Goosebumps rose on her skin.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Venic asked.


    ¡°Must be nothing,¡± she said, but was not so sure.


    ¡®I made a mistake.¡¯ That was a thought that was booming.


    This trail was popular for smugglers, thieves, and hermits alike, so had she had simply heard one of them? Could she be so lucky?


    Her hand snatched her bow, and she strung it.


    ¡°Just in case,¡± she told him.


    ¡°Just in case what? What did you hear?¡±


    ¡°I thought I heard something.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Venic demanded, but she was already on the move at a swift pace. Just ahead was a cliff with a sheer drop.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it!¡±


    ¡°How can I not when you clearly are?¡±


    Venic grabbed her arm and turned her to face him.


    ¡°What did you hear?¡± Icy serious eyes glared down at her. His fingers squeezed painfully into her arm.


    ¡°Alright, alright! Fine, I get it! Let go!¡± Valerlanta trashed her arm and his hand released her, only to rest on the hilt of his sword. Valerlanta was good at many things, but close-combat was not on that list. ¡°I heard a voice¡­ I think.¡±


    His eyes went wide, then he hissed in frustration.


    ¡°I am uncertain, though!¡± she said as he paced in front of her. ¡°If we just keep moving ¨C ¡±


    ¡°This is a disaster. This has all been a disaster since the moment I left! Blast!¡±


    ¡°Venic, listen! Listen to me! We have to get across that. Once we do, we can throw off whoever is on our trail.¡± Valerlanta gestured to the cliff-side and the bridge there; if you could call it that. The truth of the matter was that it was really just a log wedged between two cliffs over a horrendous drop, but it served the right purpose.


    The knight looked and froze in his pacing. His face drained of color. ¡°You can¡¯t mean to cross that.¡±


    ¡°Why not? Are you ¡ª no way! Are you scared of heights? How in the toad turd did you climb a mountain?¡±


    ¡°No, I am not scared of heights! I fear falling off an old log and splattering on rocks below,¡± he snapped. ¡°Why can¡¯t you thieves build a normal bridge? One with planks, maybe even some railings?¡±


    ¡°They have to blend into the surroundings from a distance,¡± Valerlanta explained, motioning again to the bridge to get him moving. ¡°And some, like this one, have secondary uses.¡±


    He cast her a weary gaze. ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡®What do you think? Isn¡¯t it obvious, you sword-brained oaf?¡¯


    Instead, Valerlanta sucked a breath and tried to look patient. ¡°It is a¡ª¡±


    Venic¡¯s head whipped back, and his whole body stiffened. ¡°Did you hear that?¡±


    The voice had been clear enough to remove any doubt. It was human, and they were being followed.


    They exchanged worried expressions.


    ¡®Smugglers,¡¯ she reminded herself. ¡®It could still be smugglers.¡¯


    ¡°This way! We have no choice now.¡± Valerlanta rushed forward.


    She cut the lines on their side, then stepped onto the bridge with cat-like ease. A section of bark shifted under her foot, but the log itself held firm. As Valerlanta lifted her foot, the bark came free and spiraled down the far drop.


    It hit the rocks below and bounced to pieces on the rocks.


    Hardly paying it any mind, she put one foot in front of the other in easy steps.


    Valerlanta jumped off the other side.


    ¡°Hurry!¡± she called back.


    Venic had stepped onto the log, but was edging across with the smallest of movements.


    This was not good. It was the people who over thought their actions that made mistakes.


    Her gaze flickered to the sword ¡ª her sword ¡ª currently strapped to his back. If he fell, there would be no retrieving it.


    ¡°I thought knights were brave? You can do better than that!¡± She chided.


    ¡°Oh sard off,¡± he snapped, his arms wavering and his face paled even more.


    Valerlanta glanced back to the trail behind him. There were no signs of movement at the moment, but Valerlanta would not see them until they crested the ridge.


    ¡°Stop looking down!¡±


    ¡°How can I both look where I am stepping and not look down!?¡±


    ¡°Look further ahead and plan your next steps.¡±


    ¡°You are not helping!¡±


    ¡°You are close enough! Just jump off.¡±


    The boots of the knight hit solid ground, and Venic gasped with relief.


    ¡®About time!¡¯


    Valerlanta cut the ropes. The log did not fall. That was the whole point of the bridge.


    ¡®Why didn¡¯t it fall?¡¯


    ¡°Blast¡¯n toad turd!¡± Valerlanta grunted, slamming her shoulder against it and digging her boots into the dirt.


    It did not move. The rains the night prior had sunk the edge of the log into the mud.


    Two more hands appeared beside her.


    Both knight and thief pushed. The log groaned, then tipped over the edge.


    Valerlanta watched it fall and break into several pieces against the rocks. The sound of it echoed down the valley.


    ¡°That will slow whoever it is, but they would have heard it,¡± she said.


    Venic did not respond. There was a new sort of dark expression on the knight''s face. He was staring at that mountain again and doubt shadowed his features.


    ¡°Come on. We still have to hurry. They could find another way across,¡± she lied, rushing away from the ledge.


    He followed in grim silence.


    The path opened to a downward slope of loose shale, boulders, and scarce trees. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the dismantled bridge protected their backs. Despite all that, a pin-pricking feeling shot across her skin and her heart slammed.


    Something was still not right. Her eyes darted back and forth, eying the shale and the small brush. Beside that brush were several small piles of greenery that should not be there. There was no reason for such perfect piles of pine bows and other leaves.


    ¡®Forest blinders.¡¯


    ¡°Wait!¡± Valerlanta screamed, putting out an arm to stop the knight from passing her.


    A blast of heat slammed into her and knocked her off her feet.

 A Dash of Chaos (Venic)

    A ringing alarmed in his ears and rattled his mind.


    He was on the ground, but not sure when he had gotten there. Venic rolled over and wiped the debris from his eyes. As his movement grazed his temple, he found it sticky with blood.


    Confusion clouded his mind as he blinked at the world around him.


    A cloud of dust was still settling.


    Steps away from where he had been standing, a small crater bit into the shale. If he had been closer, he would have been blown to bits.


    Valerlanta was near to him, but was blinking at the sky.


    ¡®The wind is knocked out of her.¡¯


    Was she injured more than that?


    There was no time to tell.


    Venic pushed himself to his feet and unsheathed his sword.


    Soldiers burst from the ground from where they had been laying, covered in foliage.


    ¡®No, not soldiers.¡¯ They had the build and the weapons, but not the garb. ¡®Mercenaries.¡¯


    Mercenaries with bows.


    Venic felt his eyes go wide as he dove behind a rock. An arrow clattered against it.


    Despite everything happening, there was a small part of him that flooded with relief.


    ¡®Finally,¡¯ that part of him said. After so many days of confusion, he was back to something he knew how to do.


    Over the ringing, he heard the crunch of boots on rock.


    Venic whipped around his cover. His sword sliced down.


    The blade bit into the mercenary''s neck. He wore a helmet, but no neck guard, so his head rolled.


    The body dropped and Venic flicked his sword to remove excess blood.


    Another mercenary let out a scream with his axe above his head.


    Venic was not wearing armour, but could not hesitate. They would expect him to be cautious, so he had to be the opposite.


    He sidestepped, and the sword swept past him harmlessly.


    Acting a miss, Venic sung wide.


    His opponent gave a cocky smile. He lifted his sword high overhead.


    Venic twisted his sword around and drove his pommel into the man''s nose.


    His opponent stumbled back.


    The knight¡¯s foot slammed him in the chest, knocking the mercenary onto his back.


    Venic flipped his sword in his hand so the blade tip faced downward. His sword came down between the armour, and another man was dead.


    Pain flashed across his arm as an arrow grazed by.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Cursing, Venic scrambled back behind the same rock as before and carefully peaked around it.


    There were three archers behind the approaching line.


    What was he supposed to do? Wait until the line came in so close that they could weed him from his hiding place?


    He had to ¡ª


    One archer dropped limply.


    Valerlanta.


    The crazed girl was back on her feet, and was bringing arrow after arrow to her bow. When she fired, men died or dove for cover.


    This was his chance.


    He climbed up the rock that had been protecting him this far, and lept.


    A mercenary that had been trying to avoid Valerlanta behind a shield looked up just as Venic¡¯s shoulder smashed into him.


    They both tumbled. The knight¡¯s roll brought him back to his feet, and he lept onto the other man blade first. The opponent grabbed the blade with his hands, stopping it inches from his skin. They both struggled against the others strength, but Venic won in the end.


    The blade slid downwards, and the man died.


    He rose to face the rest.


    ¡®Just like the tournaments,¡¯ he told himself before taking in and releasing a slow breath.


    His mind cleared, and Venic struck.


    The knight hit them with flurries of hits while dodging theirs best he could.


    He tried not to notice the pain when one grazed him. Instead, he focused on them dropping.


    One dropped, then another one.


    He found himself circled by a good 10 men calling to lower spears. No matter how strong a fighter he was, Venic knew he could not best the reach of this many spears.


    There was no escape.


    Flashing a gaze at Valerlanta, he watched as she and another archer raised bows at the same time and released. Both dropped.


    ¡°Blast,¡± he swore.


    Why hadn¡¯t she used her magic?


    ¡®There goes my last chance.¡¯


    Venic smiled bitterly and readied his grip on his swords.


    ¡°Go on! Come at me, then!¡± He snarled fiercely as the spears edged towards him.


    His muscles tensed as the circle shrunk.


    A shadow loomed over and a gust of wind caused the trees to groan.


    A heavy force thudded into the ground clumsily, spraying rocks all directions and sending tremors across the shale. Undeterred, the icy blue dragon with damaged wings flared its tongue, tasting the air.


    It was the same dragon from the mountain.


    As the great beast pulled its head back ¡ª taking in the mass of humans staring with dumbfounded expressions in its direction ¡ª Venic only just realized he had not noticed it in the mountain''s rubble.


    Apparently, dragons could hold a grudge.


    "You have got to be blasting kidding me," Venic snarled. "For fates sake!"


    Heat waves twisted from its nostrils.


    Venic dropped to the ground. He pressed his cheek into the dirt and covered his head as a wave of heat went over him.


    Men screamed.


    The heat disappeared.


    ¡®Now!¡¯


    Venic shot up and leapt over the charred remains of several unlucky men.


    Chaos ensued. There seemed to be no understanding on if the mercenaries should fight the beast or run. Some stood their ground while the rest ran in all different directions.


    The dragon tracked the flurry of movement with snake-like eyes.


    A mighty swing of its tail knocked a man right off the ledge. The poor soul wailed as he fell.


    Venic reached Valerlanta. She was sitting, but an arrow stuck from her leg. Her shaky fingers clutched it, but she was failing to stop the blood.


    ¡°Is that...¡ª¡± Valerlanta trailed off, staring at the dragon as it grabbed a man and the entire top half of his body disappeared between a clamp of teeth.


    ¡°Yes, which is precisely why we have to leave right now,¡± Venic confirmed. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. She hissed in pain, but held her complaints. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you use magic?¡±


    ¡°Too many people,¡± she replied with a grimace of pain. ¡°I can¡¯t risk someone living and telling about it.¡±


    Perfect. The one advantage that was with him had stage fright.


    The dragon squealed as a spear found a tender bit of flesh in the beast¡¯s armpit. A thrash of the tail knocked the attacker into a rock so hard he did not rise.


    Rocks pelted the thief and knight as they skidded down the loose shale of the slope. Rock cliffs rose on either side in a funnel, leaving only one path out.


    A man blocked their path. His eyes darted between them and the dragon, clearly conflicted.


    One more came up behind the other.


    Valerlanta whistled in amazement. ¡°Just how much do you lot get paid?¡±


    Before they could answer, Valerlanta pushed off Venic and knocked and fired an arrow faster than Venic thought possible. At this proximity, the arrow went deep into the man¡¯s chain-mail. He stumbled.


    Venic shot forward.


    Three sweeps of the sword were all it took. He killed them both.


    Grabbing Valerlanta again, he forced her to hurry down the slope.


    The dragon did not follow as they reached the tree-line and through the brush. The beast seemed content with enacting its revenge on any human that had been with them.


    Branches and smacked into them.


    Venic shot a glance at Valerlanta. Her face had drained of color and though she was still moving without complaint, her teeth were gritting with pain.


    Valerlanta tripped on a root and fell towards the ground.

 Troublesome Choices (Venic)

    All knights worth their merit have seen or experienced firsthand the dangers of blood loss. It started with a seemingly innocent bout of mild nausea and pale skin, then continued to rapid breaths, disorientation, and a heavy tiredness that weighed down your very soul.


    The moment Valerlanta tipped sideways, he knew hope for her was fading. Once you reached the symptom of passing out, it meant that immediate and serious treatment was necessary.


    Venic caught Valerlanta as she fell and eased her back upright. There was a dazed look in her eyes, but she had not lost conscience entirely. Not yet, at least. However, even after she was back upright, she dug her feet in with the stubbornness of a mule when he tried to continue.


    ¡°Stop,¡± she said in a gasp. ¡°Please, stop. Stop!¡±


    Venic hesitated, looking back to where they had come, then the path in front of them. The sounds of the fight had long since faded, but dare he stop?


    His skin still prickled with warnings of danger.


    Still, even he had limits on cruelty. He would not drag her to her death.


    Venic settled her down in the meadow. They were far enough away from the blight that a pleasant array of grasses and flowers grew in bursts of colour. Nearby, he thought he saw wild raspberries, but he could not be too sure.


    The sight reminded him how tired he felt by tempting Venic to sit for a time. Unfortunately, he could not stay that long.


    Venic searched for a landmark he could use to walk in the correct direction.


    ¡°I need to remove the arrow,¡± Valerlanta said. ¡°Will you help me?¡±


    The knight flicked his gaze back down to her, feeling ice form in his chest.


    Her hand gingerly prodded the site where the arrow had entered, and her fingertips became wet with red.


    When he did not answer, a violent shudder visibly quaked up her whole body. She swallowed hard.


    ¡°Are you going to leave me?¡± Valerlanta asked, her voice void of emotion.


    Again he said nothing, and her face somehow grew paler than it already was.


    ¡°We had a deal.¡±


    "Deal?" He shook his head. "You dare even bring that up? You dare pretend you were honoring your end of the deal?"


    "I ¡ª"


    ¡°Yes. Yes, we had a deal. A deal you did not even try to follow,¡± Venic hissed. ¡°Tell me, witch, how did those people find us? Where did you lead us?¡±


    ¡°Just¡ª¡±


    ¡°I swear if you lie, I will end your suffering here and now under my blade,¡± he warned, and she believed it. A flash of fear showed in her emerald eyes.


    ¡°I did nothing you would not do yourself in my shoes."


    "What?"


    "Come on. A stranger shows up, threatens you, then blackmails you, and you would trust still them?¡± she asked. ¡°You were really just going to let me go after I brought you where you needed to? I doubt that. You were going to kill me for knowing too much.¡±


    ¡°What did you do?¡±


    ¡°I was trying to ensure my safety.¡±


    He brought the sword-point of his sword to her chin. The blade drew a dot of blood. ¡°What. Did. You. Do?¡±


    ¡°I circled back south,¡± Valerlanta admitted.


    He had suspected as much, but had to hear it for himself. All that traveling, all that wasted energy, and he had covered almost no ground at all.


    Panic flared within him. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°My father¡¯s territory is in that direction. It was the best idea I had.¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ''Father?''


    She had to mean the thieves.


    That meant her plan all along was to walk him until they happened to bump into people who would help overpower him.


    All the blood drained from his face in a cold rush. Fear kindled into rage that flared in his chest.


    Venic felt the sudden urge to sink his sword into her throat. It would be easy, and at this angle, she could not stop him.


    Valerlanta stayed perfectly still, waiting to see what he would do. Without him, she would surely die. In her condition, there was no chance of her traveling to help in time to save her.


    He should kill her.


    He should leave her.


    Hopeless green eyes stared up at him. Her breath came in rapid gasps, looking all too much like a scared cornered rabbit.


    Venic adjusted his grip on the sword. The tip hovered above her skin.


    He gritted his teeth.


    Then he stepped back with a scream of frustration. Before he knew it, he was pacing back and forth by her feet in rapid and heavy stomps.


    ¡°I have washed more brains off my sword than there is in your head!¡± he snapped.


    ¡®Sard!¡¯ Why everything happening this way? Why was absolutely everything going wrong?


    ¡°If you help me, I will give you my word. I will take you where you need to go,¡± she said faintly.


    ¡°Ha! Like your word means anything.¡±


    ¡°I never gave my word before. I simply swore to help you and you never specified the details about for how long. If I gave my word, however, that is entirely different. The word of a thief means everything, or no one would ever hire us.¡±


    ''Thief.''


    Venic instinctively reached for his money pouch, and it was not there. Whirling back at her, he found her smiling sheepishly with the pouch dangling by its drawstring from her bloody fingers. ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s a habit.¡±


    He did not move to take it. He simply stood there, staring at the pathetic girl. She was so desperate. So small.


    ¡®What is wrong with me?¡¯


    He should leave her, and he knew it. He knew it with absolute surety. Yet, he could not bring himself to leave. What was worse than all of that was that he had made up his mind, although Venic acknowledged it had to be the worst idea he had all day.


    ¡°Give me your word now,¡± he said.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Give me your word right now that you will take me where I need to go.¡±


    The hand with the pouch dropped as if she no longer had the energy to hold it. ¡°You have my word that I will guide you through the forest to where you want to go.¡±


    Venic stared into her eyes, but saw no hint of a lie.


    ¡®Kill her,¡¯ the voice told him. ¡®She just admitted to being a thief. What else could she be?¡¯


    Instead, he knelt beside her and snatched his pouch back.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°But I am no surgeon.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever¡ª¡± she trailed off with a wince.


    He used the water from his water skin to rinse his hands


    ¡°Removed an arrow?¡± He finished for her, his face grim. ¡°Yes.¡±


    Venic had only been on one major campaign, and that was helping to take Palenwood castle. Most of those injured were by arrows, and there were far more wounded than surgeons. Once the war was done, many, including Venic, volunteered to fill the gaps.


    ¡°Can¡¯t you use magic?¡± Venic fished out his needle and gut from his kit on his belt.


    Her eyes squeezed shut, but Valerlanta shook her head. ¡°Maybe to heal it, but only partly and only with the arrow gone.¡±


    And she could not remove the arrow herself without risking falling unconscious or causing more damage.


    ¡°Here,¡± He said, pressing a stick to her mouth. She willingly clamped her teeth down on it. Using his knife, he widened the opening in her pant leg then poured water on it so he could get a better look at the injury.


    The arrow had hit bone, and that had stopped it from causing further damage to anything too troublesome.


    Venic took in a slow breath and let it out again.


    ¡®You can do this.¡¯


    He gripped the arrow-shaft.


    This was not the recommended practice. He could almost hear the surgeons lecturing him in a panic. They would have been careful to not cause more injury when the arrow was removed, but he had no time.


    ¡°Ready?¡± he asked.


    She shuddered from head to toe, but nodded.


    With his knee on hers just below the injury, he hoped that would keep her partly in place. ¡°Just try to stay still.¡±


    He pulled.


    The stick only partly muffled her scream. Her back arched, and she gripped handfuls of earth.


    Blood flowed.


    Luckily for her, the arrow missed the artery. If it hadn¡¯t, she would have died very quickly.


    ¡°You are almost done,¡± He lied.


    He stuck the needle into her flesh, and her leg flinched. Judging by her fingers digging small holes into the soil, she was doing her best to remain still, but there was only so much someone could do.


    Venic did an ugly job of it, but when he finished, the stitches held.


    A dazed, almost drunken, look danced in her eyes as he cleaned and bandaged the wound. Her eyes fixated on the forest canopy, watching the swaying leaves.


    She would need rest, but he could not offer that.


    His hands were bloody. An uncomfortable chill settled over him as the feeling flashed the image of his dear friend, dead.


    The knight stood sharply and hid the tremble in his hands by washing them and taking several steady breaths.


    ''Just keep moving. I just have to keep moving.''


    ¡°Get up,¡± he snarled.


    Valerlanta did not move. She might not have even heard him.


    ¡°Get up,¡± he said again. ¡°We need to leave now.¡±


    And, surprisingly, she got to her feet.


    It took time, and the help of a tree, but she stood. When she gingerly took her first step, she stumbled. Venic caught her and pulled her arm around his shoulders.


    ¡°Do not get used to this,¡± he shot. ¡°I simply don¡¯t want you to pull your stitches.¡±


    ¡°Do not worry, your need for a bath takes any enjoyment out of this,¡± Valerlanta said, and despite how pale she was, despite how shaky, she smiled.


    ¡°Are you ever serious?¡±


    ¡°Not if I can help it,¡± she looked around slowly, blinking hard at her surroundings. A trembling hand pointed to the left. ¡°Head for that mountain over there.¡±


    He cast her a doubtful look.


    ¡°No tricks, promise.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± was all he replied, not believing her for a second. Still, that was the direction he went.

 Nightmares (Valerlanta)

    ¡°We should stay here the night,¡± Venic said, gesturing at the space before them.


    ¡°We most certainly should not,¡± Valerlanta wheezed.


    ¡°Look at you. You can barely stand. We need to stop.¡±


    He was not wrong about that. Her legs trembled, threating to collapse right from under her. Was she desperate enough to stop in this place, though? No. No, she was not.


    ¡°Not here, we don''t.¡±


    ¡°It is raining.¡±


    ¡°Brilliant observation.¡±


    Sighing in irritation, he all but dragged her into the cave with him. The rocky hole did not go very far in, but it was large enough for a camp that would be safely out of the rain.


    And she hated every bit of it.


    ¡°See? It is perfect.¡±


    Valerlanta huffed. ¡°I am sure the local wildlife agrees with you. Do you like bears? If you stay here, you had better. They might be visiting here tonight.¡±


    ¡°Oh, stop being difficult.¡± He lowered her to the ground in the center, clearly not taking no for an answer. Despite how Valerlanta wanted to stomp out and demand he follow or be left behind, she knew she did not have the strength. He certainly was not going to help her. The knight was already arranging the camp. ¡°A bear will seem like nothing compared to a dragon, and we already faced one of those twice now.¡±


    ¡°True,¡± she said. Valerlanta crossed her arms, refusing to let her fingers touch the stone floor. ¡°But there are more than just bears to worry about in these parts. There are wildcats, sprites, even mimics. Have you ever come across one of those? They can mimic a person perfectly. What mimics say is nonsense, but most people don¡¯t think of that when they hear a child screaming.¡±


    If she was getting to him at all, it was not showing. He was setting out what little things he had and marking a spot for a fire.


    ¡°The fire has to go to the back or it will blow in at us,¡± Valerlanta said, then cursed herself for it. Maybe the fire would have smoked him out.


    He corrected his mistake and attempted to spark a flame in the correct spot. He was failing, miserably. Even though he had been stuffing firewood into her pack as they walked, the sticks were still damp and refused to catch.


    While he worked, Valerlanta called on magic and pressed her hands onto her wound, wincing against the pain. Healing wounds was incredibly tedious. She could feel the muscles and cracked bone knitting back together with a pain that equaled when they had been injured, and if she did healed wrong, she did not want to know what would happen.


    Valerlanta barely had enough energy for a few moments before she was gasping and dizzy. Had she healed it at all? It barely felt like it.


    ¡®Will I improve if I practice?¡¯ Valerlanta wondered. Perhaps magic was like a muscle, and the more she used it, the less energy it would take from her. She had been forbidden from using her magic before, but what about now? Her father too far away to stop her.


    Frustrated swears broke the silence.


    Venic had gotten nowhere with his fire, and it was almost pitiful to watch.


    ''Honestly, how did you survive out here as long you have?''


    ¡°Let me try.¡± Valerlanta scooted across from him and held out her hand.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    He stared at the thief for a moment of hesitation ¡ª either not wanting to admit defeat, or not trusting her with the steel ¡ª then handed them over.


    She repositioned some of the kindling and grabbed a good amount of the lichen that she kept in her bag for situations like these.


    ¡°Cheater,¡± Venic complained and Valerlanta snorted.


    ¡°It is called being prepared.¡±


    With her little bundle of dried goods in front of her, she struck flint to steel and a rainfall of sparks settled upon it.


    "Can I ask you something?" Venic asked.


    "You can ask anything you want, I just can''t promise I will answer."


    ¡°Why do you wear that?¡± he asked, tapping his cheekbone.


    Valerlanta flinched so hard that her blade missed the flint completely. Steadying herself, she struck again. This time the sparks caught, and she lifted the bundle to her mouth and blew gently. It started smoking, and she placed it under her pyramid of small wood.


    ¡°My father has had me wear it since I was a child,¡± she as she gradually added supplemental twigs to the flames. ¡°He is paranoid that someone will somehow recognize me. Well, not me exactly, but recognize my features, or something.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Venic replied.


    She reached for a twig, but it was too far from her reach. Pain flared, and she winced from the movement.


    Venic snatched it up and held it out for her. She nodded in thanks and added it to the fire.


    It was still young, but with care it should be stable enough.


    ¡°There,¡± she said.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he replied, but his tone said he was not thankful in the least bit. He glared at the fire for lighting for her and not for him.


    It was not his fault, not really. In a town, city, or castle, if your fire went out, you simply borrowed some from a neighbour.


    ¡°I light a fire at least once a day every day, though sometimes more,¡± she explained. ¡°It is just a skill you learn out here.¡±


    ¡°Trust a peasant to be good at lighting fires,¡± he said, settling down. ¡°Oh right, sorry. Not a peasant. Princess, right?¡±


    Valerlanta rolled her eyes, too tired to be irritated. ¡°Not even close. My mother was Seneen of house Groveiw. Did you know of her?¡±


    He shook his head.


    Valerlanta knew she should have expected that. Her mother died when she and Venic were still children, so he had no reason to have heard of her. And yet she felt a pang of disappointment.


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember her much, but there was a time when I cared enough to do some digging. According to letters my father gained, she was a lesser-noble who was an embarrassment to her class. She had me out of wedlock and people said she was a drunk. So no, I am no princess. It is just that my mother barely had enough bloodline for magic to pass down to me.¡± Valerlanta frowned. ¡°It is not something you are even supposed to know. The only other person who knows is my father.¡±


    The knight said nothing in return, giving no sign on if he believed her or not. He simply set his damp boots and cloak as near to the fire as he dared.


    When he finished, they ate what small amounts of dried meat and berries she had left in her bag.


    Sunlight faded out like a dying flame, then snuffed out completely.


    Her uninjured leg started tapping rhythmically.


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother keeping watch,¡± Venic said as he lay with a relaxed sigh. ¡°You said so yourself that they won¡¯t look for us at night.¡±


    Without replying she lay on her side, trying to ignore the feel of how familiar the cold stone was, and how it seemed light the icy darkness was creeping in. All she could do was stare at those flames and not dare look away from them.


    ¡®Why a cave?¡¯ she wondered. ¡®Why did he have to find a cave?''


    Since that moment of her past, she had not slept underground; not even in the outpost when everyone else did. They assumed it was because she thought she was too good for it, but Valerlanta would never correct them. If she did, they would ask questions, and with questions came memories.


    ¡®It was so long ago. Stop being so pathetic.¡¯


    The flames danced, and Valerlanta focused hard, letting the fire be her anchor to sanity.


    Without her knowing, her eyes closed sometime later.


    Sleep hit her in restless fits.


    The dark was strangling.


    ¡®The fire is going out.¡¯ Some distant part of her warned, but she was in that space between waking and nightmares and could not fix the problem.


    Her breaths became rapid.


    ¡®No, not again. Please, not again.¡¯


    Memories were dragging her down, drowning her


    The stone floor.


    The smell of waste.


    The only light source so far above it seemed to her like a faint, glimmering star.


    Heart beats thudded so hard in her chest it was painful.


    Then abruptly spiraling darkness dissipated as light washed over her. A log was added to the fire and gentle breaths coaxed it back. Glorious light filled the cave that she wanted to cry with relief.


    Without a word, the knight lay back down.


    Valerlanta squeezed her eyelids tightly shut and tried to silence her breath.


    ''I woke him.'' She realized with shameful horror.


    Had she screamed? Valerlanta desperately hoped she had not.


    Pride stung like a knife, but the light again acted like a faint shield to the darkness until sleep carried her off again.

 Sprites (Valerlanta)

    Within the earliest edges of morning ¡ª when the sun had still not crested but had the very beginnings of color hinting the horizon ¡ª Valerlanta woke to a sound.


    The fire was still popping faintly beside her, but she knew that was not what had woken her. It had been something else. Something in the cave with them.


    Scratching and rustling sounded again from the back of the cave.


    Valerlanta shot up to a sitting position, gasping as she jerked her leg and caused a flash of pain from her wound. It felt like the arrow was still in there, moving when she did.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Venic asked groggily.


    She hesitated, waiting. When she didn¡¯t answer, Venic sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stilled when the sound came again.


    They exchanged a glance then Venic put up a hand, telling her to wait where she was. Not that she would be much help with her injured leg.


    Venic grabbed his sword with a silence she did not know he could manage, and approached the back of the cave where a large pile of rubble lay.


    Venic peaked over a particularly large boulder.


    Valerlanta heard a ¡°peep¡± warning sound, and all too suddenly she knew what it was.


    ¡°Run!¡± She screamed, but it was too late.


    The nest of sprites burst from the rocks like a storm. At only a hands length in size, one alone was not particularly threatening, but they always attacked as a hive. They swarmed Venic; biting, pulling hair, and swept in from all sides.


    He tried to bat them away, but they were everywhere.


    A cloud of the nasty creatures poured from the rocks.


    Valerlanta dove for their things, but her leg gave out. She fell hard, her shoulder smashing into the stone floor. The bag tumbled from her grasp, and out rolled the puzzle ball. It hit the cave stone floor and the light of the fire danced across its metallic surface.


    ¡®Just my luck,¡¯ Valerlanta thought as the sprites saw it, and their love for shiny objects drew them like moths to a flame.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°No!¡± Valerlanta screamed.


    And they were upon her.


    Pulling, scratching, and sinking in teeth.


    A sprite bit her hand, drawing blood.


    She called on magic.


    The fire flared up and burst in all directions in a flash of light and heat. The startled sprites dropped the ball.


    Valerlanta pounced.


    Her fingers wrapped around it.


    The ball felt her magic, and reacted by stabbing her with a needle.


    The cave lit up in a horrible red glow as all the markings upon the ball lit up.


    Pain flared in her temples so violent, it felt as if her brain was splitting in two.


    As she felt herself falling, the cave twisted and folded in on itself.


    The cave, Venic, and even herself, were all gone.


    She was a woman, but not herself. This woman had soft petal pink skin, and eyes that saw the world in colors that were so vibrant, they almost seemed to glow.


    When she moved, she did not feel just the air around her or the ground under her feet, but every single thread of mycelium, every root, and every blade of grass. The world was alive, and she could feel that life.


    She was the dryad Queen Dallylyn.


    The queen smiled sadly at the people in front of her, and some of those people sobbed heavily or yelled at her to reconsider.


    Many were adults with slightly pointed ears that would gradually become less so over time. They were her children, her grandchildren, and even great grandchildren, and she had looked over them long enough.


    It was time to fulfill her promise, even if it twisted her heart to do so.


    Her eyes looked upwards to the rooftop of gears and the artificial sunlight she had helped design.


    Everything was working as it should be.


    It was time.


    Dallylyn stepped into the opening in the tree, and turned towards the crowd, and said a last goodbye.


    One of her grandsons tried to reach for her, but it was too late.


    The bark closed around her.


    There was darkness, yes, but also that tingling that came from merging with a tree.


    If the tree felt a gust of wind or the warmth of the day, so would she.


    Fear hammered her heart, but Dallylyn silenced it by thinking of her late husband.


    The curves of his face.


    The brilliance of his smile.


    The touch of her fingers crazing his chin.


    ¡®Rumleke. I am coming.¡¯


    With a blast of energy that felt like being drenched with icy water, the spell began. Never had this magic been attempted before, and  never had she ever used so much magic at once.


    She was spreading herself thin.


    It was killing her, but she knew it would.


    Even after she was gone, the spell would continue, and her promise would be fulfilled. The world would enter a time without magic, and humans would lose a great power that caused many of their wars.


    Without it, would they enter a time of peace as Rumleke imagined?


    Honestly, Dallylyn was not sure if she cared. It was just what he had wanted, and so she would see it done.


    The tree''s roots dug deep and spread out, taking what she needed from the soil. Taking the magic.


    When such a vast well of magic had gathered it felt like she might split apart, the spell burst outward.


    As it went, The queen''s last thought was that she could feel something was lost. An important piece had been stripped from the land that was somehow essential, but the regret was far too late.


    She was fading, and she welcomed the end.

 The Hound (Venic)

    She had fallen the moment the ghastly red overtook the dark of the cave. One moment she had been fine, and the next she was limp; unmoving even as sprites yanked at her hair and tried to pry her fingers from the glowing ball.


    It was unnerving, but he knew he had to help.


    Swearing, Venic covered his face and pushed through the storm of sprites. They were determined little beasts and drew pinpricks of blood, but he was stronger and waded through their chaos.


    With one hand he grabbed their things, and with the other he grabbed Valerlanta by her the clothes of her tunic and lifted. She was limp, but he did his best to drag her along as he held their gear in front of them like a shield.


    By some miracle, the sprites gave up their pursuit as soon as they exited the cave. The sun was nearly up, and so instead the nasty creatures sped off into the forest to catch bugs; or whatever it was they did with their days. Perhaps they had other people to go harrass.


    He set Valerlanta and their stuff down, and thumped down to a sit beside them. Little bitmarks covered his skin, and he was sure he was missing tufts of hair. Even his clothes had little chunks taken away to be used in their nest.


    Whatever had dazed Valerlanta seemed to be passing, but he did not take any chances. He sucked in a breath, and pealed back her fingers. The glowing ball did not hurt him like it had her, and fell onto the soil. A tiny needle withdrew into the ball.


    It took every bit of his nerves to not kick the creepy thing into the forest.


    Valerlanta blinked, her brows pinching in confusion as if no longer sure where she was. Gingerly, she sat up, wearily eying the ball beside her.


    ¡°It is only fair that you know that I agree now,¡± Venic said as he touched a sore spot on his brow and found his fingers red with blood. ¡°Caves are bad.¡±


    Valerlanta let out a choking laugh. ¡°Told you so.¡±


    ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    A tremble came over her body. ¡°I believe so...just give me a moment.¡±


    He could see why. Whatever that thing had done to her, it had shaken her to her core.


    ¡°What did it do?¡± He asked, though he was not entirely sure he wanted to know.


    ¡°It stole some of my magic.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    She hesitated, her gaze flicking to the ball before she nodded.


    Disbelief flooded Venic but he pushed it down. This was not the time. By the looks of it, she was in no state for more dramatics. ¡°Is it safe?¡±


    ¡°For you, it should be.¡±


    ¡®Well, that is hardly reassuring.¡¯


    He bent down at tapped it with a finger. Nothing happened.


    Cautiously, he picked it up, and found it cold in his hand but vibrated with a soft hum.


    The king had a clock in his thrown room that worked by a complex set of gears and weights. Was the same hiding in this orb? Had her magic somehow powered tiny gears hidden below the brass?


    ''She activated it.'' The realization made his heart jump.


    This was it; this was the reason why not a single of the top academics could figure it out. It needed her.


    It needed magic.


    As he carefully stashed the orb away, sun finally trickled in through the trees with brilliant gold. When he finished fastening the straps on the bag, he found Valerlanta scrunching her nose and scrutinizing the cut on his brow.


    Reflexively, he wiped the blood away with the back of his hand. "It is really not that bad. It is just a cut to the head."


    It did not hurt any more than any of the other bites those horrible creatures gave him, but for whatever reason, cuts on the head seemed to bleed twice as much as anywhere else, even from a tiny scratch. She, however, seemed unconvinced.


    ¡°Wait,¡± she said, though her tone was reluctant.


    He paused, curious, then was startled as she went to where he knelt, took his chin, and tilted it in the light.  Her emerald green eyes studied the wound, then she let out a sigh.


    ¡°Sit down,¡± she ordered.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think¡ª¡±


    ¡°Sprites eat a lot of rotting meat. Do you want an infection on your face?¡±


    Venic immediately planted his bottom on the ground, and she set to work cleaning the wound. Valerlanta moved with a reassuring practiced ease, but was also uncomfortably close. Venic found himself looking anywhere but at her.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°I believe you now.¡± He said.


    ¡°What?¡± She asked, clearly startled from whatever it was she had been thinking.


    ¡°You just gave me proof of your claim.¡± He winced slightly as she dabbed the wound. ¡°It is a well-kept secret, but the king''s magic is fading with his age. He once did shows of power every year at the summer tournament, but the last few years he has faked sickness.


    He told me in confidence that only someone of royal blood can charge the ball, but he had hope that one of the other pieces might still hold enough magic to share with the ball.¡±


    Those green eyes paused on his for a long moment, the cloth hesitating.


    ¡°Oh,¡± was all she replied.


    ¡°Why not go to the king?¡± He asked. ¡°Why not tell him you are of the same blood?¡±


    She took out her salve that smelled suspiciously like moss, and dabbed it on the wound and any other she saw. Her touch was featherly light on his skin and he couldn''t ignore the fact that she smelt like pine needles and fresh-dug earth.


    ¡°Do you want the real answer? I do not think you will like it much. The reason no one can know my blood parents and the reason I hide my face is because I saw with my own two eyes what happened to the royals during The Red Gathering.


    Do not make it out to be some sort of tragedy, though. I want no part of that world even if I could join it. Castles, riches, and servants do not make all types happy, and I know in my soul it would drive me mad. That is not a life I want.¡±


    That stumped him. Who wouldn''t want a life safe from the elements? One where every luxury was at your fingertips? ¡°And what do you want if not that?¡±


    ¡°I want to travel. I want to adventure, to see new things.¡±


    ¡°I thought all people wanted money, and here you are happy with sticks and mud.¡±


    ¡°Ha! Do not get me wrong, I would love a pile of gold as much as the next person, but while for some people it would fund a farm or help start a family, that money for me would be an invitation to see the world."


    Perplexed, he finally looked at her, and her emerald eyes met his.


    They were from two different worlds, and yet, if events had unfolded differently, would he have met her at the castle? Would they have grown up knowing each other?


    She shoved his chin away. ¡°All done. Now you will stop bleeding on everything.¡±


    He snorted. ¡°Says the person with an arrow wound.¡±


    Valerlanta motioned to her bandage leg.  ¡°Yes, well, that seems handled now. Good job, by the way.¡±


    "Don''t praise me yet. I make no promises in regards to the quality of my stitches."


    "Ha! Well, I haven''t bled out yet, so I am calling it a job well done."


    Whatever had been bothering her earlier seemed to have faded, and her determination came back. Still, she was pale as a summer cloud and limping badly.


    ¡®I am softer than I realize,¡¯ Venic thought as he very nearly suggested that she rest for a while longer. Nearly, but he didn''t. The logical part of him still won control, and before long they were on the move again.


    The thief walked with a confidence that baffled him. Not once did she doubt her direction, as if she knew every river, every mountain, and path they came across. As they went, she gathered herbs, and he was lucky if he recognized even half of them. Still, if he asked, she could tell him the name of each one, and the common medical uses.


    ¡°This is a willow tree,¡± She told him. ¡°It is good to collect what you can to have on hand in case you need it. It is a powerful medicine against pain.¡±


    Then just moments later. ¡°This lichen here? This is old mans beard. It will help keep wounds from getting infected.¡±


    "Is that what is on my cuts?" He eyed the stringy green tangle suspiciously.


    "Yes, but with yarrow to help stop the bleeding."


    The knowledge was passed to him with a sort of mild irritation, but she still answered every question, and questioning her was something he definitely did. Anything she so much as lingered a gaze on would lead to an onslaught of inquiries.


    Venic had learnt his lesson with his time alone starving in the woods, and now he was determined to never feel that way again.


    He had thought that she had finally grown tired of his questioning when she held up a hand to silence him, but when she tilted head, he knew she was listening for something.


    Venic strained his ears but heard nothing but the breeze through leaves and birds.


    When she put her fingers to her lips and let out a series of whistles, he understood.


    Icy panic flooded his veins.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± He snarled, grabbing her by her arm and putting his other hand onto his sword.


    ¡°Relax,¡± she said, trying to wiggle out of his grip, but he held firm. ¡°They are just passing on information.¡±


    ¡°Who? Information? What sort of information?¡±


    ¡°Where there are traps for smugglers on the roads today, if there are storms coming in, and even people selling goods,¡± she said with a shrug. ¡°There are people living all over these mountains, and they communicate over the distances using whistles.¡±


    Venic frowned, realizing that this girl could have called for help at any moment since they reached this altitude. So why didn¡¯t she?


    ¡°What did you say to them?¡±


    ¡°They were talking about movement in the forest. I asked for more information. Relax, they are mostly hermits passing time.¡±


    Before he could ask more, she put up a hand again.


    Her head quirked like a bird, sending strands of loose blond hair streaming across her face. He tried to listen too, but all he heard was birds amongst birds. How was he supposed to tell the difference between a bird from a person pretending to be a bird?


    Valerlanta limped back, startled. A curse escaped her lips.


    ¡°What?¡± He asked. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°They said they are tracking us,¡± Valerlanta said, baffled. ¡°And The Hound is leading them.¡±


    ¡°The Hound?¡±


    ¡°Jerstain of house Elfailden. We call him The Hound. He is the personal hunting dog of the king.¡±


    Venic frowned and felt his stomach lurch.


    He had never met the man, but everyone had heard of Jerstain.


    Jerstain was once caught funneling tax money from the king, but the king gave him a second chance. With the thief guild gaining strength, Jerstain was ordered by the king to take his infantry to root them out. If he managed to do that, he could keep his position.


    With the forest so large, most people said it was a fool''s chase, but Jerstain took it seriously to the point of obsession. One winter he even led a winter expedition that killed five of his men, and just left them in the snow. Worst yet was that their lives were lost all because of the chance of catching one thief guild member who still managed to get away anyways.


    Why would they send him? Because of Valerlanta? How would he know about her?


    ¡°He knows the forest relatively well, from what I hear,¡± she said, as if reading his mind. ¡°But not this well. If they are as close as they are saying, he has help.¡±


    She whistled some more, and this time she did not stop her. After all, what power did he have?


    Without Valerlanta, he was lost. Without Valerlanta, the puzzle would not work. Yes, he had her word to help him, but that would only go so far. Venic had to trust her and hope she would respond the same.


    So, both knight and thief stood side-by-side and waited.


    He only knew a reply came when her head once more tilted towards the sound.


    ¡°They relayed a message from my father for me,¡± she said casting him an odd expression. ¡°He says that you are not who you say you are.¡±


    Venic felt the blood drain from his face. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°After you left, it seems the king proclaimed he has evidence that you are a spy for Wylfaren.¡±

 The Forgotten (Venic)

    The silence stretched painfully long for one simple reason; he was unable devise a lie. Him! Of all people, he could not think of a lie.


    From the moment Venic set out on his mission as a child, he had been lying. Every casual mention of his falsified past, every excuse he made for disappearing to send letters, it all created the man he was today that wove fabricated stories on the spot without even wavering a smile. Yet he stood before Valerlanta, mouth open and no tales spinning out.


    ¡®She¡¯d know. Somehow, she would sense the lie.¡¯


    In this world there were the mass majority of folks who would eagerly listen to him weaving tales with simple acceptance, but then there were the dangerous ones. Those rare, strangely perceptive, types would notice his lies no matter how simple, even if he used the exact same tone and body language as the truth he spoke no more than a sentence before.


    When catching a lie without any proof, most people simply feel uneasy for a reason they cant quite place. As the lies continue, that unease takes root as a seedling of suspicion that could undo everything. Venic realized this instinctually at a young age, and developed a method of indirectly lying to them. The rare people could tell that he was lying, but if the words came out of the mouth of someone who believed them to be true, Venic was safe. So, he simply had to spread the lies and wait for the right ears to hear them.


    He was unable do that here.


    ¡°Is it true?¡± Valerlanta asked bluntly when he failed to answer.


    ¡®Get control of yourself!¡¯


    Sucking in a breath, Venic forced his shoulders to relax. ¡°Yes. Yes, it is true.¡±


    Her eyes widened slightly, but that the extent of her reaction. No part of her expression showed signs of horror or anger, there was just¡­interest. As if he had just dropped an interesting sliver of gossip, Valerlanta raised a brow, waiting for the tantalizing details. The unexpectedness of her reaction threw him off and he blinked several times before continued.


    ¡°A long time ago, my parents faced punishment for betraying information to King Khon. They had passed over information on the current status of imports and exports, that was it, but the laws are the same no matter what the sensitivity. It was proper grounds to have my entire family line killed. Instead, only my parents faced the rope while they kept me alive and sent me to live with my uncle as a spy. They called it an act of mercy for an innocent, given my young age, and everyone believed it. I have been sending letters ever since. Well¡­.until these last days, at least.¡±


    Emerald eyes searched his own, perhaps hoping to read the truth. Whatever Valerlanta found must have satisfied, because she gave a casual shrug that again made him gawk at the normality of it. He had admitted to being a betrayer to her kingdom, and the crazed thief was acting like she was disappointed the story was not exciting enough.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Valerlanta said, ¡°Well, let¡¯s go.¡±


    The thief walked away, and and the flurry of confusion grew to a blizzard bouncing around in his head.


    ¡®It is a trick. It is a trap. Somehow, something must be wrong with this.¡¯


    He rushed to catch up with her, which admittedly he did easily thanks to her limping. Valerlanta was favoring her leg more and more as the day went on, but they had no option that involved a slower pace.


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± he asked, baffled.


    ¡°Yes, that about covers my curiosity.¡±


    ¡°Seriously?¡±


    ¡°Yes, seriously,¡± Valerlanta said, with obvious amusement dancing in her voice. ¡°The king or Wylfaren; what does any of it matter to me? Neither is my ally, so I do not see why this changes anything.¡±


    Venic had expected anger, maybe even violence; but not this. Never this.


    Someone caring so little about the betrayal to their own kingdom? He was the one doing the betraying, and even he felt a flare of offence.


    ¡°They are enemy kingdoms! The king plans to invade Wylfaren later in the year, and Wylfaren knows it! They will do anything to protect themselves. Anything. It is even rumored they are planning a final stand, which means this kingdom ¡ª your kingdom ¡ª will soon be invaded!¡±


    ¡°Right, and how is that any different from normal?¡±


    ¡°What? What the sard does that mean?¡±


    ¡°If it is not war with a kingdom, it is a war against the poor. If it is not war against the poor, it is a war against some lord unwilling to pay taxes he can¡¯t afford. No matter the reasoning, it is always rich people finding some reason to fight over something, and the innocent get dragged along with them. No matter who becomes ruler, nothing will really change. There will still be rich. There will still be royals. There will still be everyone else just trying to survive under their rule.¡±


    Venic frowned deeply, an unsettling feeling hitting his chest. Guilt? Or denial? Whatever it was, it was impossible for him to name.


    ¡°You are a strange person.¡±


    She cast him a cocky smile. ¡°Says the spy.¡±


    He flinched, which caused her to laugh and look more relaxed. Why did it seem like she was warmer to him now that she knew he was...¡ª


    A criminal. He was a criminal. A criminal on the run, causing trouble for the upper class?


    ¡®Oh sard,¡¯ he realized. ¡®Am I just like her now?¡¯


    No, not exactly. He was not the one with royal blood preferring sticks and dirt and choosing to chase treasure for the adventure of it all. Venic was not crazy like her.


    ¡®Not yet, at least.¡¯ I thought, as if the infection of a crime would clearly lead down her path.


    ¡°So, why are you alone?¡± Valerlanta asked.


    ¡°Hmm?¡±


    ¡°Why isn¡¯t Wylfaren helping you? I am assuming the reason you have not run there yet is because you need to get these items for Wylfaren, correct? So, why are you alone out here?¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Venic tried to pick his words carefully. ¡°They came to help, and we had a set meeting place, but soldiers from the castle followed me. They attacked us at the meeting location, and the people from Wylfaren were killed while escaped.¡±


    Valerlanta nodded, as if that added up, and he was reminded of how she got the ball. The thief must have seen the battle and made some connections from it.


    He was still waiting for something more from her, but she just kept limping onwards.


    Did he want her to get mad at him? Why?


    ¡®I deserve it.¡¯


    A short steep ridge blocked their path. Venic reached out to grab the trunk of a thin tree, only for his hand to get slapped.


    ¡°What are you doing? Don¡¯t touch that!¡± She said.


    Venic looked at her, then at the tree. On it was a simple enough looking ivy with shiny leaves in the shape of hearts.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°That is corpse ivy! Get too much on your skin, and it will kill you.¡±


    He took a sharp step away. ¡°Are you joking? Is this one of your tricks to scare me?¡±


    It had happened once before already. He had mistaken a juniper berry as a blueberry, and she had let him think they poisoned him for hours before admitting junipers are edible as well.


    ¡°Do you really not know about it?¡± She raised a brow at him, a perplexed expression pinching her features. ¡°No. I am completely serious. The oils on the leaves get through your skin and poison your blood. Yes, there is a cure that grows right by it, but let¡¯s not test fate, shall we?¡±


    The knight stepped wide around the tree. ¡°And here I was just having the inkling of the idea that maybe the forest is not so bad.¡±


    ¡°Ha! It is just experience. I grew up out here, so it is normal to me, but I actually have the same confusion around people. Every time I go into town, people give me looks, and I know I am doing something strange or something rude, but my upbringing did not teach me to know what. Once, I found out the looks on one day were because I looked a rich man in the eye, and apparently that is rude for my status.¡±


    ¡°It is about respecting your superiors.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, we don¡¯t have that out here. You listen to your leaders, but we are still all equals.¡± Valerlanta winced as she stepped down from a rock and had to put weight onto her injured leg. ¡°My point is that we both have learning to do. Luckily for you, I know what areas to go to avoid the worst of things.¡±


    ¡°Dare I ask what things you are speaking of?¡±


    ¡°You know. Giants, griffins, and kelpies, that sort of thing¡±


    ¡°Giants?¡± he scuffed. ¡°Those don¡¯t exist.¡±


    Her head snapped in his direction, and those eyes lit up with anticipation. ¡°Oh really? Shall we go see one?¡±


    That challenging gaze made him wince. If giants were real, Valerlanta would indeed be crazy enough to go up to one just for the sake of a bet. ¡°No, perhaps next time.¡±


    She let out a huff of disappointment. ¡°Pity. It would have been fun to see your face.¡±


    Crazy. She was absolutely insane.


    He was in the forest with an insane person.


    Venic was about to tell her just that when they passed by a stack of stones that caused him to blinked in confusion. The pile was blackened and toppled on all but one side, but the shape the stone made was unmistakable. It was the rough outline of a house.


    Then one house became several, and Venic realized they were walking through what had once been a village. Before, this mountain community would have looked out over the valley and woke to crisp air this altitude offered. Perhaps they were primarily miners, perhaps they were loggers, but all that was gone. Now, the dirt roads had blankets of thick brush, and only the odd home had roof beams still standing.


    There was an eerie stillness in the air.


    ¡°What is this place?¡± He asked as they stepped past a well.


    ¡°Pinebury,¡± she said.


    ¡°The traitor village?¡±


    ¡°If you believe that.¡±


    ¡°Oh, please don¡¯t tell me you have some country belief about that too.¡±


    Valerlanta shot a sharp look at him, and confirmed his suspicions. Of course. He should have known.


    Next she would try to convince him that rubbing garlic on his toes would keep away death, or perhaps that the ghost of a sailor frequented a pub and would haunt you unless you bought him a drink. Why did country folk have to have such strange beliefs?


    Her arms crossed, as if uncomfortable.


    ¡°There is a story about a boy whose parents died young, leaving him to care for his siblings. He did well at it until royals hunted his siblings through the forest like boars. The royals killed them for sport, but never punished. After all, the royals had magic when no one else did, so were almost gods. The boy grew bitter and poor, but so did the rest of his village. Being this close to Palenwood, enemies constantly raided them.


    Then, one day, the boy came up with a plan. Through whispers in the ears of all the villagers, he started feeding the flames of their rage. Often, he lied, but he was so charismatic that everyone believed him. They started spreading his words to other villages, and he continued fanning the flames.


    The hate had spread far and wide by the time they conspired with the castle guards. They picked the night when the royals had gathered for their yearly celebration and would spend the night drinking. So, in the early morning, before the sun rose, the villagers and the castle guards ambushed the sleeping royals and killed them.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like the story I know, with many extra details,¡± he confirmed.


    ¡°Well,¡± she looked at him grimly. ¡°The ending will be different. The boy ¡ª their leader ¡ª had a plan of his own. While the others were killing, he would linger behind and drain the blood of the royals. In that blood, he found the key he needed to absorb magic and drank what he could before having the bodies burned.


    That magic gave him proof of royal heritage, so after things settled, he took the title of king. He had those in his own village killed for remembering his true origins and became king of a throne that was not his.¡±


    Venic was silent, a torment of emotions flooding for him.


    How dare she? How dare a lowly girl like her spread lies about the king like that?


    When he finally spoke, the anger leaked into his words. ¡°I could legally kill you for spreading a story like that.¡±


    Disappointment flashed across her face, as if he had just failed some sort of test.


    ¡®That¡¯s why we are here. She is trying to convince me of something.¡¯


    There were likely dozens of different paths Valerlanta could have chosen, and yet she picked this specific one. Why? What was the point of trying to convince him?


    What did she have to gain from this?


    The thief shrugged. ¡°I admit, I do not know if that story about his past is true. It is just something I have heard from others who had family in the village. I can say, however, that I was in the castle during the Red Gathering and saw his evils.¡±


    ¡°Lies!¡±


    ¡°It is true. I was young, so I don¡¯t remember all the details, but I do remember there was a royal hanging upside down from his feet with a bowl under his head. That is kind of hard to explain any other way, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°Enough.¡±


    ¡°Why? You said you believe how I have magic, so why don¡¯t you believe this?¡± Valerlanta stepped towards him, her eyes a violent storm of green. ¡°I speak the truth. You just don¡¯t want to hear it. You pretend to be a spy, but I can hear it in your voice. The fake-king charmed you just as he charmed those villagers.¡±


    ¡°I said enough!¡± His hand went to his sword and hurt flinched across her face.


    ¡°Fine.¡± She threw up her hands in surrender, but continued her glare. ¡°Fine. Keep living in your world of lies. See if I care.¡±


    The thief stomped off, or at least as much as she could given her limp.


    ¡°Coinless filth,¡± he muttered under his breath, anger still swelling within him.


    He moved to follow, and his mind flashed back to the time he and the king were chatting at a party. It had only been months ago, and the king trusted Venic enough to confide in him that his magic was fading.


    ¡®With magic that was not his.¡¯ Valerlanta had said.


    No.


    ¡®No.¡¯


    What did she know? Nothing!


    She was just an uneducated thief. A thief that was kneeling and looking down at patch of dirt.


    ¡°What is it?¡± He growled.


    She shot him a glare, as if angry at him for even daring to speak.


    ¡°Tell me,¡± he said, then added, ¡°Please.¡±


    She released a long breath, but her shoulders relaxed in defeat.


    ¡°Did you know that no two blacksmiths make horseshoes the same way?¡± Her finger traced the shape imprinted into the ground, and only then did Venic realize the shape of a print. There were more tramping the brush flat so solidly with boot marks, hoofprints, and wagon marks, that he could not even guess the number of them. ¡°There will always be slight differences, so you can tell where a shoed horse came from just from the print. This print is not from our kingdom.¡±


    ¡°Hernthorn?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    They just stumbled upon the tracks of the first advance of the Wylfaren army.


    They followed what he could only imagine to be the main street of this village and continued westward.


    Before he could contemplate this, an arrow hit his sword sheath with a solid ¡®thunk.¡¯

 Tracker (Valerlanta)

    The arrow missed flesh only by inches; lodging in his sword sheath.


    Instinct had Valerlanta roll behind stone ruins, and Venic moved with her. They both pressed their backs against the cold, crumbling wall and swore in unison.


    Behind her, both shouts and the sounds of quickly approaching horses steadily grew louder.


    How had Valerlanta not heard them until now? It was true she was not in her normal mind at the moment, but this was a fool¡¯s mistake.


    Pain was shooting up and down her leg in pulsating heat from the strain, and clouded her mind.


    ¡®Blast. If we don¡¯t act quick, we won¡¯t get away.¡¯


    ¡°Can¡¯t you tell them to not kill us?¡± she asked.


    ¡°You know,¡± Venic snapped. ¡°They did not seem to care about my wellbeing much when they nearly shot me.¡±


    That was a valid point.


    Pulling out a knife, Valerlanta used the foggy reflection to glimpse over the top of the wall. The platoon was not overly large ¡ª maybe twenty or thirty men ¡ª but that still left them grossly outnumbered.


    ¡°Its not Wylfaren,¡± she said. ¡°They have Alecaven colors.¡±


    Which certainly should not be. How could they both be tracking her and knowing the terrain so clearly? She had underestimated her opponent¡­or worse, overestimated herself yet again. The thought sent a pang of pain in her chest.


    ''You have got to be kidding me!¡± Venic screamed. ¡°Am I cursed? That must be the case. Why can I not have a moment¡¯s luck? I can¡¯t even get a decent sleep without being attacked by ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh, please! Do you really think this is the right time for this?" Valerlanta strung her bow. "Stop complaining!¡±


    ¡°I will gladly oblige if you get us out of here! Use your magic!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t risk that! You know why.¡±


    If just one of them survived and told the king, that would be the end of her.


    ¡°Then what do we do?¡±


    ¡°Just give me a minute to think!¡± She snapped back.


    Again, she looked into the foggy reflection. As she moved along the ranks of people nearing every second, just one of them caught her eye.


    A person who dressed in earthy colors.


    A rope of panic suddenly tightened around her torso; lurching hers stomach and restricting her breathing.


    ''No. It is just the dagger. It is not a clear image.''


    Risking the danger, Valerlanta tilted her head over the top of the ruins. The answer to how they were tracking her was standing right there.


    Those ropes of panic pulled her so deep into icy depths that her body froze with the cold and not a breath could escape her lungs.


    The boys face was so swollen with bruises, she nearly did not recognize him. Both tattered clothes and hair looked weighed down by either mud or blood. His hands were bound behind him while one around his neck dragged him like a dog.


    Dyleik.


    ¡®The kids...¡ª ¡¯


    The heist had gone wrong.


    The call to adventure tempted her, and the kids faced the punishment.


    Frantically, she searched the lines, but did not see the twins. Maybe they got away¡­or maybe¡­¡ª


    A hard yank pulled her back under cover as arrows clattered overhead.


    ¡°Are you tying to get an arrow in the face? Wasn¡¯t one in the leg more than enough?¡±


    ¡°My fault,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°What?¡±


    A pressing feeling squeezed her chest until all she could muster was brief gasps.


    ¡®My fault. My fault. My fault.¡¯This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    It took everything in her to not crumple.


    Venic looked at her face, and dread sunk over his expression. ¡°Sard. Just...don''t move. I will try to think of something.¡±


    They had maybe a few good seconds before the platoon realized the two had no backup, and that it was safe to surge forward.


    The knights eyes scanned frantically around them for any scrap of a plan. As he did, Valerlanta reached a trembling hand to her quiver and grabbed an arrow.


    ¡®I do not want to do this,¡¯ her mind screamed out. ¡®Please, something make it so I don¡¯t have to do this.''


    Venic grabbed her wrist.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± he snapped. ¡°We can¡¯t fight them. There is too many!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t intend to.¡±


    With a whirl of movement, she pulled from his grasp and swept around the wall at a crouch. The arrow released.


    The platoon raised shields and called out in alarm, but the arrow was never intended for them.


    It hit Dyleik and his whole body lurched back. The youth crumpled on the ground and lay there, unmoving.


    Beside him, still holding the rope, the leader¡¯s eyes went wide and narrowed on to her with obvious rage. Jerstain of house Elfailden. Valerlanta did not have to know his face to recognize him.


    The commander was a man of bulky muscles, a jutting chin, and a broad forehead. All combined, he was intimidating in size and appearance even before adding in his cold, deep-set eyes and many scars. Greying blond hair sat in a wavy mess on his head, and dark circles were under his eyes as if he had been up every night planning how to catch them.


    Had he heard of her? Had he heard of the mask-wearing daughter of the guild-master?


    It was a possibility.


    So, despite her stomach tying knots, Valerlanta gave him a smile and a little wave and watched as the older mans face contorted with unbridled rage.


    Then she was back behind the wall as arrows pelted where she had been.


    ¡°There!¡± Venic pointed to the rotted side of a wagon, barely holding together and partly stuck in the soil. There was no guarantee the wood would even lift from the ground, and there was certainly a high chance of the rotted wood being too soft to stop an arrow.


    "This is a bad idea." Valerlanta told him, but she did not have a better one.


    They exchanged nervous looks.


    She nodded.


    Venic rolled out into the open towards it. Soldiers cried out in alarm at sudden appearance. Swiftly he hoisted the wood from the ground; ripping up moss and dripping clumps of dirt and rotted wood.


    The very moment he had lit lifted, arrows slammed into its surface and broke through the other side. Sharp points stopped inches from Venic¡¯s flinching face, but went no further.


    ¡°Come on,¡± he screamed.


    Valerlanta rushed forward and knelt behind him.


    Both thief and spy stood behind a piece of rotted wood, facing a platoon of at least thirty trained and well-armed soldiers.


    Venic edged backwards, towards the forest, and the platoon stalked persistently.


    The arrows had stopped, and the sound of boots and hooves thundered.


    Within the thorny tangles of a rose bush, the wood shield was snared. Venic yanked at it, but the bush held tightly, catching between the planks. Venic abandoned their cover in a great toss and ran. Swearing, Valerlanta followed.


    Branches and thorns bit at their skin.


    Her leg ached as the movement straining the stitches.


    Suddenly, the ground gave out from under her.


    The earth swept sideways, and gave her no time to react. Valerlanata and Venic fell with it.


    The world spun as she tumbled down rocks and dirt, then slid to a stop at the bottom.


    Valerlanta quickly sprang back to her feet, but Venic was not so lucky. He was blinking at the sky; the wind knocked out from him. Her bow lay near him.


    Archers appeared on the cliff side.


    Her gaze flickered to the forest ¡ª her escape ¡ª then back to Venic.


    The enemy arrows loosed. They arched and fell towards them in a deadly rainfall.


    The blood from her many fresh scrapes and wounds snaked into the palm of her hand and magic burned into a gale of wind.


    The force knocked her backwards. Above, the arrows wildly off course. They clattered against the muddy in all directions; much to the confusion of the archers.


    ¡°Come on!¡± Valerlanta screamed at Venic as she yanked at his clothes. "I can barely carry myself, right now! I am not going to try and carry you!"


    He staggered to his feet, his breath returning. She snatched her bow, and the running continued.


    ¡°This way,¡± Venic said, leading them into the thickest of the brush. ¡±The horses won¡¯t reach us!''¡°


    Branches bit at their skin, but even Valerlanta did not question the logic. They were in a tangled maze of branches and trunks so thick that Valerlanta couldn¡¯t see more than a few paces ahead. They ducked, crawled, and wove through the maze as quick as they dared.


    Curses shouted out behind them as people tried to follow on foot through the vast network.


    Thief and knight stumbled out into a meadow but kept moving. They passed more brush, more trees, across a stream, then finally¡ª


    ¡°Stop!¡± Venic wheezed.


    Stop? No. She couldn''t do that.


    Gasping, limping horribly, and trembling head to toe, Valerlanta took a step. Then another.


    They had to keep going. She had to keep moving.


    Venic grabbed her. ¡°Valerlanta, stop! We have to stop! You have to stop¡±


    Valerlanta pulled out of his grasp, but fell on all fours.


    Staring at the ground, the tears welled. Just as she feared, stopping allowed her emotions to catch up and they were threatening to smother her with their force.


    Her bow was still clenched in her hand. The bow that she had used to ¡ª


    Valerlanta had killed before, but never a kid. Never someone she knew. Never someone that was supposed to be her responsible to look after.


    Dyleik had already given her up, and Valerlanta had to protect what secrets of the guild were left. She had to do it.


    She had to.


    ''I should have been there with him. I should have protected him.¡¯


    Instead, she had abandoned him and the twins for her own selfish drive for adventure.''


    A sob threatened to escape but she forced it back down.


    ¡°Val?¡± A voice asked and a warm hand set softly on her shoulder.


    ¡°I killed their tracker,¡± she said with her back to him, hating the raw emotion leaking into her voice. ¡°They should be slower to follow us now.¡±


    ¡°The tracker...was it someone you knew?¡± Venic said carefully, and when Valerlanta did not answer ¡ª could not answer ¡ª he received his answer. ¡°I am sorry.¡±


    And it sounded like he meant it. Looking back, she saw equal pain of a man who understood.


    ¡°I''ll be alright,¡± she lied. ¡°I just need a moment. Please...just give me a moment.¡±


    He waited in respectful silence as she stood with the steadily growing voices telling her of her guilt.


    ¡®Murderer,¡¯ the voices told her. ¡®Children died for your selfishness.¡¯

 Puzzlement (Venic)

    In his life as a knight, he had lost people in many ways. Some died from sickness, some infections from wounds, and others in completely unexpected ways. Perhaps thanks to that hurt, Venic knew comparing tragedies would not help. So, he stayed quiet, but he thought he knew how Valerlanta felt.


    They set up camp and lit a small fire once the sun went down, but she still said nothing. The thief sat, staring at the flames, and her emerald eyes seemed duller.


    What were the right words to say in this situation? Were there any?


    Venic took turns glancing at her, then looking back to the coin he held. He wove the curved metal back and forth between his fingers, watching it rotate from a tree on one side to the king on the other.


    The coin was bowl-shaped, giving it the nickname petals. The shape made for easy stacking, but also distorted the images on the coins somewhat. On the inside of the coin, the tree looked squished, but on the outer, the king almost looked stretched.


    It was just the king¡¯s profile, but it was recognizable as him. It had his gold and velvet crown just above his broad forehead, his high cheekbones, and combed back hair. The expression was serious, but they had included his wrinkles and smile-lines.


    Tree, king. Tree, king. Over and over again he flipped it, a worry settling deeper and deeper into his chest.


    Venic stashed the petal away in the side of his boot to keep Valerlanta from stealing it.


    The thief in question was at least moving now. Valerlanta opened the bandages on her wrist and aggravated the wound to make it bleed.


    He watched as the blood seemed to be pulled against gravity, into her palm where it burned off into a pale white. It was like her blood was the oil of a lamp, and her magic was the flame. Venic thought it was a cruel cost, but even the king had a glove that would prick his fingers on command, so there must be no other way.


    Was it the same for magic users back home? It had been so long, he couldn¡¯t even remember.


    Venic had been a young boy when he was sent to this kingdom, and the only magic user he could recall from before then was in the hazy memory of a street performer. The performer would make things disappear or reappear, but was that even magic? It had seemed so as a child, but so did many things.


    ¡°That looks like it hurts,¡± Venic said, and internally cursed himself for stating the obvious.


    ¡°It does,¡± she agreed, but she just seemed to focus more.


    She winced, and Venic tore his eyes away, unable to watch anymore.


    But he also could not just sit. If he could not be training, working, sleeping or preparing for the next day, he had to at least keep his hands busy.


    It only took seconds before his foot started bouncing with building irritation.


    ¡®I should tell her sleep might help her. Or maybe I should say that I am sure she made the right choice?¡¯


    Venic decided he would go mad trying to think, but he also refused to retrieve the coin again, so instead he brought out the puzzle ball.


    It was black again, but he thought he could feel the faintest tremble under his touch.


    ¡®An orb from a long dead queen that steals magic blood to feed itself. Downright creepy.¡¯


    Venic spun the rings over and over, but he could find nothing new than any other time he tried. No answer to figure out the symbols suddenly showed itself.


    The knight might have been a swordsman at heart, but he also considered himself well-studied and quite good at puzzles. So, even though he knew many more better-educated professionals had tried and failed at his task, it still bothered him that the answers were somehow out of reach.


    He had the sudden urge to throw the orb into the forest and be done with it.


    Or perhaps hit it with a rock¡­¡ª


    ¡°Here, let me try something,¡± Valerlanta said, holding out her hand.


    Venic passed it over, and was startled to realize he did not even hesitate.


    How long had it been since starting this journey together? Days? And they went from flinching at each other''s movements to now sitting relaxed in the other''s presence.


    Valerlanta took in a breath before pressing her palm against the puzzle.


    Click.


    The orb illuminated with the lurid red and Valerlanta gasped in pain or shock, but did not seem to lose herself into it this time. Shadows danced in the scarlet light as she turned the ball this way and that.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Venic felt his heart slam, but then all startled feelings were suppressed by something stronger; fascination. There, within the orb, he noticed something. Venic moved in so close their brows nearly touched, and he placed his hands over hers and tilted the ball.


    ¡°It is not the whole of the markings glowing,¡± he realized aloud. ¡°The markings are a distraction.¡±


    The real puzzle was the glowing dots within those markings, which only a magic user could activate.


    Venic looked at her excitedly, and Valerlanta smiled back, but it was shaky and forced. There was something in those eyes that told him that she could not keep this up for long. It was draining her every second she held it.


    He twisted the ball this way and that, turning the ball so he could see all sides.


    There was a reason.


    There had to be.


    Just as soon as he thought he understood, he felt a tug at his mind. It was a strange tingle, as if drifting to sleep. It urged him to drift along with it, and as the surrounding forest faded away, he thought he saw a group of people?¡ª


    Realizing what was happening, Venic snapped his hands away.


    ¡°Blast.¡± He swore as the real world came back around him. Whatever that was, it nearly had him and he had only touched her hands, not the ball itself.


    Valerlanta still sat trapped, her body gradually leaning. Was this part of the puzzle or a trap? The ball needed her magic to activate, but it was bleeding her dry without her even knowing.


    ¡°Val, stop!¡± He said, grabbing her by her shoulders and shaking her.


    There was no response.


    Cursing, he ripped the ball from her grasp and tossed it. As it hit the ground, darkness filled the clearing as the firelight again became the brightest source.


    Valerlanta wavered as if to fall, but he held her upright as she came back to herself. Shivering, she blinked at him and that dazed look slowly faded into recognition as the vision lost its hold on her.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to do that again,¡± Valerlanta told him flatly.


    ¡°You won¡¯t have to,¡± he assured her. ¡°Are you well?¡±


    As if just realizing how sickly she must appear, Valerlanta straightened her back and raised her head. ¡°I am fine.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Venic said, disbelieving, but letting it go. ¡°Well, you should know your efforts paid off. We figured it out.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°The puzzle ball.¡±


    She sat a little taller, and he was startled to realize how close she was. That mask of hers that covered half her face was right before him, and within the center of the holes were eyes that were hopeful seas of green.


    ¡°We did?¡±


    His smile widened. ¡°Shall we make sure?¡±


    Valerlanta nodded eagerly, so he retrieved the ball and turned the rings over in his hands.


    ¡°When you fed the ball with magic, only spots on the markings lit up. They were the true puzzle, and they matched the stars; the constellations. If I remember right...¡ª¡± He pressed in two of the symbols on a ring, and both clicked into place and stuck there.


    They exchanged excited expressions.


    ¡°Well, don¡¯t stop now,¡± Valerlanta urged. ¡°Keep doing whatever it is you are doing.¡±


    He twisted the second ring.


    ¡°They were constellations I recognized,¡± he explained. ¡°I used to teach constellations and their stories to my friend¡¯s daughter, and this story was one of her favorites. The story of the fox and the raven.¡±


    It was a sad sort of story, starting with a piece of meat falling from a wagon heading to the king. It had a delicious smell that soon attracted the attention of a fox and a raven.


    Knowing the raven could easily fly away with the meal, the fox cunningly said, ¡°Oh dear, not a raven! Surely it will fly away up onto that hay pile over there where I cannot reach it as soon as I get close!¡±


    And so, overhearing the fox, the raven swooped over, picked up the meat and flew over to the hay and sat atop it croaking in delight. It was just after that when the farmer came out and tried to shoo the bird away. Angered, the raven fought for his perch. As it did, not only did the meat fall, but so did the pile of hay, falling over into a nearby fire. Much to the dismay of the farmer, the hay caught fire before he could stop it, and spread to his field.


    Uncaring, the raven turned back to get his food, only to find it in the fox''s mouth as it ran away.


    ¡°Woe is me!¡± The raven squawked from the air. ¡°The fox has caught my meal! Surely it will run into those bushes that are too tangled for me to fly in!¡±


    And it was no sooner after he said that when the fox hurried into the bushes that tightly weaved together like knots. Deeper and deeper, the fox ran into the bushes until it came to a cave. Curious, the fox went inside and felt it was very warm.


    ¡°This will be a wonderful place to eat!¡± the fox decided, settling on a rock; only it was not really a rock. He sat on it and the rook shook beneath him. Startled, the fox did the first thing he could think of and dug his claws into the rock to keep from toppling off. There was an annoyed screech. He was not on a rock, but had duh his claws into the eyelid of a dragon.


    Yelping in fear, the fox ran from the cave and was chased by the dragon. It smashed the bushes as it followed, nearing closer and closer. Then, just when the fox was about to be caught, the fox scurried down a hole, leaving the meat behind in its haste.


    Enraged that the fox got away, the dragon took to the air and released his fury on a nearby town, destroying the house of an old lady.


    When the fox emerged again, the meat was gone, and it saw the raven flying off again. The fox knew the raven would not believe his lies again, so instead, the fox ran into a field of archers practicing. Yipping excitedly, the fox waited until the archers turned his way, then ducked into hiding.


    The archers took notice of the raven and shot it down.


    Before the humans could find it, the fox quickly used his nose and found both the raven and the meat.


    ¡°Help me,¡± the raven said, an arrow through his wing, but the fox ignored the bird. Instead, the fox took the meat and went to leave, ignoring the bird¡¯s pleas. ¡°Help me! Help me! Help me!¡±


    The fox was only just about to get away when the raven¡¯s cries alerted something the fox did not expect; a group of hunters and their dogs.


    The moral of the story was supposed to be about how greed ruins the lives of those around you first, then ultimately comes for yours as well.


    The orb was clearly giving a final warning with these constellations, but there was no time to think of such things now.


    The fox and raven, the farmer, and the old lady ¡ª all those ruined by the greed for one item ¡ª lined up and clicked into place.


    The ball hummed in his fingers then split in half so suddenly, he nearly dropped both pieces.


    ¡°There!¡± Valerlanta called, pointing. There, Venic found a perfect keyhole in the flat of a half.


    He smiled so wide his cheeks hurt.


    ¡°Looks like we need a key.¡± Valerlanta said, and finally gained some of her mischievous sparkle back to her eyes.


    ¡°Good thing we are heading for one,¡± he said, and she lit up even brighter.


    ¡°Palenwood?¡±


    ¡°Palenwood.¡±


    And more and more, he wished it did not have to be.

 Palenwood (Valerlanta)

    ¡®What am I doing?¡¯ Valeralanta thought to herself as days passed by. Days of teaching Venic about foraging, and evenings of theorizing about the orb and healing her wounds.


    Venic was an eager student, and soon he was helping collect herbs and mushrooms to add to their meals. He even helped with the shelters, and instructions on how to do so no longer was necessary.


    It all seemed harmless enough, until Valerlanta realized the problem of it all. She was comfortable around him. No longer did sitting by him or sharing a shelter cause her to worry about protecting herself. In fact, it no longer crossed her mind at all, and that bothered her.


    Not only was he a knight who dined with the king, but he was also a spy. He built his entire life around lies, and yet Valerlanta sat with him, chatted with him, and slept soundly.


    ¡®What am I doing?¡¯


    Why was she getting comfortable?


    Valerlanta told herself that she had to stop putting her guard down. She would stop teaching him, and certainly stop whatever weakness was growing in her....but she would do so tomorrow. That tomorrow simply failed to arrive. The sun would rise and fall, and always those tasks she gave herself would always be rescheduled.


    Then, in what felt like the time of a blink, they arrived at Palenwood.


    The walled city jutted out of the graceful hills of the valley; and left a bare slice in the forest like a scar. Several small creeks exited from knee-high grates in the city walls, and filled a moat which, in turn, fed into a large river. Palenwood resisted the dangers of the wild, and the cold stone walls were a constant reminder of that resilience.


    As both thief and spy looked on at the city, Valerlanta pretended not to notice that Venic kept gripping and releasing his sword. Of course he was nervous; this was outside his expertise.


    For Valerlanta, her heart was beating only with excitement. She had grown bored of the heists tasked to her by her guild, but this...this was tantalizingly different.


    ¡°How are we going to get in?¡± Venic asked, staring at the gate in the distance. In front of it, a long line of people and wagons waited to be granted entrance.


    Valerlanta looked him over. Even though they were tattered and dirty, his clothes were clearly intended for a knight. No peasant could ever afford such grand fabrics and embroidery.


    Her own clothes were equally a problem. Made for traveling through the woods, they would surely draw attention.


    The mask could stay, though. Masks were common to cover scars, or even for fashion. Some royals even changed masks several times a day, depending on their mood. Or so she had heard.


    ¡°I will go trade some clothes for you,¡± Valerlanta said.


    ¡°Trade?¡± His brows shot up in surprise. ¡°Not steal?¡±


    ¡°Steal?¡± Valerlanta mocked offense. ¡°What do you take me for, sir knight?¡±


    ¡°A thief,¡± he said, and the corner of his mouth curled up into a smile.


    ¡°True, but only the worst kind of people steal from those just struggling to survive. There is one problem, though.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°We will have to stash our weapons somewhere out here. There is no way they will let us through with them, especially not the swords. They will bring up far too many questions.¡±


    He looked irritated, glancing between her and the castle, then nodded. ¡°We will hide them, then. I do... ¡ª I do think I have to ask. What if I went in alone?¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    She stiffened and a cold chill crept up her spine. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It is simply a thought, but what if I went in myself? You could wait out here and protect our things,¡± he smiled but it looked forced. ¡°My sword is worth a pretty penny, you know. I wouldn''t want anyone walking off with it. And that is just mine; what about the treasures?¡±


    A horrible sinking feeling spiraled down in her stomach, and she had to fight to keep her expression neutral. ¡°I will not hide them where someone can find them.¡±


    ¡°I also know more about cities.¡±


    ¡°And I know more about the forest, and yet here you are! What is your point?¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°Bu what? Stop making excuses, and tell me the truth! What is it? Why don¡¯t you want me to go with you?¡±


    Venic opened his mouth to tell her, but no words came out. Instead, a dark look settled over his eyes and he shook his head. ¡°No... ¡ª no, you are right, I am overreacting.¡±


    Valerlanta felt a flash of pain in her chest at the obvious lies, but pushed no further. ¡°Alright then, disarm.¡±


    When both their weapons lay in small pile, she felt very naked even with all her clothes.


    Had she ever been without that bow since her father had given it to her? She doubted it.


    ¡°I will be back shortly,¡± she told him. ¡°I can hide everything once I am back.¡±


    He raised a brow. ¡°You are leaving me here? Just after we specified I can not leave you here?¡±


    ¡°Oh, don''t be so dramatic. I won¡¯t be entering the city. I will be right back.¡±


    Palenwood stood as the largest walled city in all of Avelynd. Those high stone withstood countless generations of attacks, but that ended with King Khon. The castle had tried to hold out from his advance, but in the end the walls were breached by the kings magic.


    The marks were still around. Some had been repaired ¡ª the patch work obvious next to old stone ¡ª while others were still waiting. Above the gate, there scrape marks marred the surface from where the old family crest had been removed.


    Even the people still had a hollow sort of look, as if they were still healing from wounds that could not be seen. They lined up at the gates, waiting for entry to the morning market. Some with carts, others on foot with large baskets strapped to their backs. Valerlanta slipped among them, looking for the right target.


    ¡°Do you think there will be much to buy?¡± One old lady was saying to another. They both hoisted their empty baskets, ready to carry weight despite looking well into their elderly years.


    The other looked alarmed. ¡°Why wouldn''t there be?¡±


    ¡°I hear the Wylfaren troops are salting all the farms they can. They are trying to starve out the king, as if that would stop him. He is a king! He just started exporting food from overseas. All they are doing is starving us out, not him. We only just recovered from one war...must they pick on us for another?¡±


    Valerlanta felt her stomach sink, thinking of the visions she had seen when she held the ball.


    "It is not salt,¡± she murmured to herself, but so quietly she knew they would not hear.


    It was from the magic purge. She knew that now. While stripping magic from the land, there was something else that was being taken from the earth as well; something the plants thrive on.


    Forest walkers like herself had been noticing a change for several years now, but it had worsened ever since the king expanded his borders. There were less flowers, less foraging, and more attacks from hungry animals.


    Valerlanta walked away so she would not have to hear them any more.


    In the middle, the thief found what she was looking for. It was a simple covered wagon that looked innocent enough. A young boy with his sister sat on the bench, and the whole contraption was pulled by a large bull. Both children looked too young to be alone, but that was a common story. There were orphans everywhere, and most ended up hired by someone for cheap labour. In this case, these kids were given the wagon full of goods and were expected to sell them in a certain amount of time to get paid in full.


    By the looks of their clothes and skinny bodies, they did not sell much as of late.


    ¡°Hello, traveler. I am in need of two spare sets of men''s clothes,¡± Valerlanta opened a bag and tilted it only enough for him to see. His eyes lit up when, instead of petals, he saw a small collection of jewelry. ¡°Do you have anything you would part with by any chance?¡±


    The boy flashed a smile that was missing teeth. ¡°I think we can accommodate you just fine.¡± He nudged his sister. ¡°Go on.¡±


    The covered part of the wagon was barely hip high at best, but the little girl easily crawled on all fours inside; disappearing behind tattered canvas. Valerlanta stepped to the back, and the girl appeared at the opening of two ratty curtains.


    ¡°What sizes?¡±


    ¡°Mine,¡± She said, then put up her hand above her head, guessing. ¡°Then a man, about this big? Muscular.¡±


    The girl nodded and disappeared back inside. When she reappeared, the girl had just what Valerlanta needed. Well-worn peasants clothes.


    Valerlanta took each garment, inspecting for flaws. When she was satisfied, she nodded and reached into her pouch.


    ¡°We haven¡¯t even bartered yet,¡± said the girl in a short panic.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Valerlanta said, and held out her hand. ¡°I have never liked bartering much. It is far too too tiring to be worth the bother. Full price is fine with me.¡±


    Suspicious, the girl took it and opened her fingers out of sight and her eyes went wide. ¡°T-this¡ª¡±


    ¡°A gift between fellow guild members,¡± she said with a wink, and left them with a necklace that would easily feed them the entire winter.

 Final Tasks (Venic)

    Like many rivers crashing into one, the people of Palenwood maneuvered in lines of bodies meeting in the city center. There, the currents of people became a mass of chaos moving multiple directions until they filtered out again.


    Venic ignored the growing crowds best he could by following the waterways of the town. These stone gutters often led between houses with barely enough room for shoulder space and often caused wet boots, so he rarely saw anyone else taking advantage of them. Lucky, the city also had strict rules about dumping waste in the waterways, so it was one of few places that did not smell horrible. In his opinion, wet feet and narrow spaces were worth the lack of smells and crowds.


    It was strange being back, and Venic found himself struggling not to flinch whenever someone made eye contact.


    How many parents had he killed of those he passed by? How many of them still dreamed of days before being under the kings rule?


    How many of them had nightmares about him?


    None acknowledged remembering him, but the fear was still there within the knight.


    He kept his head down as they passed by a well of a Dryad spilling water from her eyes. The white stone body grew out of a carved tree, with her body arched and an arm stretched upward. Her face looked to the sky with a painful longing. The water that trickled down her face like tears filled the well which was sacred to this town. "Fae Water" they called it, and thought it could cure all ailments.


    He believed no such thing, but then again, he had doubted Valerlanta, and there she was; walking with him with magic in her veins


    A baby was dipped into the cold waters. He cried out in surprise, and wiggled in the woman''s hands, but she held him tight. The water covered the babe from head to toe. There was no magic light, no ripple or anything else to tell it was working, and yet there was such a gleam of hope in the mothers eyes that Venic had to turn away.


    As they left, the babe coughed but the mother was content her newborn was now in the process of healing.


    The water of the well lead downhill, past the houses of the lords and ladies, and into the market, where it met in a grand ring, then left off in many different directions, and in the center of the ring was a grand tree. Even though Venic had seen it before, he found himself gawking at its size. It grew taller and wider than any house in the area, and kept the market shielded with its large leafy branches.


    Fae water, the town said, was the cause of it growing so vast, and not to mention the reason why it supposedly shed golden leaves in the fall. Not real gold, of course, but the locals swear that they glimmer just as brightly.


    Valerlanta came up beside him and placed a hand on the bark, and looked tiny compared to the huge tree.


    ¡°You can¡¯t climb it,¡± Venic snapped.


    She looked at him a little guiltily ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to.¡±


    ¡°But you wanted to. I could see it.¡±


    The thief flashed a smile. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    He rolled his eyes and faced the market.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    There were so many people.


    No matter where Venic looked, every inch of the streets had people coming and going. Some had livestock, some had carts, and others were carrying everything they wanted in wicker backpacks.


    The buildings were several stories high, and down the alleys, cloths lines were stretched between buildings.


    The market square was a flourish of over-stimulation.


    ¡°Where¡ª¡± Venic started, but when he turned Valerlanta was gone. Immediately, Venic swore and looked up the tree, but by some luck she had not gone that way.


    He spotted her in between stalls, craning her head to see everything. People were stepping around her, annoyed, but Valerlanta didn¡¯t even seem to notice in her excitement.


    He sighed, but found himself smiling as he rushed to catch up to her.


    By her was an overwhelming combination to the senses. Venic was hit with smells of people selling cooked meat with strange spices, vibrant clothes in any color, and sounds from one selling sprites and squirrels.


    The thief was smiling widely.


    Venic raised a brow, amused. ¡°First time in a market?¡±


    ¡°First time in a city,¡± she corrected and he stared at her.


    ¡°You are joking, right?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Was all she said before rushing forward to inspect the stalls one-by-one.


    There was a person selling packs of any type, another selling shoes. It seemed like everything someone could want was all packed into this area!


    ¡°Not even once?¡± He asked as Valerlanta picked up a plate carved out of a strangely pink wood. The shop owner glared at her suspiciously.


    ¡°Not unless you count as a child, no. I have been to plenty of towns, but never anywhere with any royals,¡± she explained. ¡°Fathers orders and all that.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. Funny, you don¡¯t strike me as a type to do what you are told.¡±


    ¡°Oh I am not,¡± she laughed. ¡°If father had his way, I would never go anywhere alone. I would be in the forest helping manage the guild from safety without actually doing anything myself. I think I would go cra-¡± She trailed off, her whole body stiffening.


    There was a new statue of the king on the edge of the town square.


    He stood on a pedestal so he was far above everyone walking by, while looking off in the direction of Alecaven. He wore grand clothes that fit his muscular build, broad shoulders, and tall height.


    The king had a broad forehead, hair combed backwards out of the face, and a crown. His wrinkles around the eyes and mouth would normally make someone look kind, but it failed with him. Cold seriousness emanated from that statue. One hand was outstretched with a small sapling growing out of it.


    Valerlanta looked frozen in place, her face paling.


    ¡°Val?¡± he asked and that broke her from it. She turned away as if nothing had happened.


    ¡°There is someone I know who moved here that we can ask questions, but I don¡¯t know where he lives,¡± she said, pretending everything was fine. ¡°His shop is called The Healing Leaf.¡±


    Venic nodded slowly. ¡°Alright. Want to see something impressive, then?¡±


    She quirked a small smile. ¡°From you?¡±


    ¡°But who else? I can charm the right information out of anybody. Watch this.¡± He mocked a short bow before whirling away. Venic walked up to the nearest stall, now with a limp.


    The woman on the other side of the stall table looked up, and Venic flashed his most charming smile.


    ¡°Hello there,¡± he said, now using a thick northern accent. ¡°I was wondering if a kind looking lady such as yourself might be able to give directions to a lost soul.¡±


    The woman flushed as Venic leaned on the stall, towards her. ¡°That depends on where you are trying to go.¡±


    ¡°The Healing Leaf. I am supposed to meet someone outside of there, but I seemed to have gotten turned around. Your city is like a maze! Can you help me find my way?¡±


    The woman giggled and gave him directions. He thanked her kindly and bid goodbye.


    Content his acting had paid off, the spy turned back with a satisfied grin, but Valerlanta was staring at that statue.


    Frowning, he elbowed her lightly. ¡°You didn¡¯t even see.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± she smiled sheepishly. ¡°Sorry. See what?¡±


    "No, nevermind," Venic scuffed, shoulders deflating. ¡°The shop you are looking for is down at the end of fishers street, on the other side of a fountain.¡±


    She peered down the road, craning her neck. ¡°That way?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Can you get there yourself? I want to try asking around here a bit longer.¡±


    The lie bit at him.


    She nodded, but hesitated, her green eyes scanning his face. ¡°Is something wrong?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± His smile flickered, threatening to fall. ¡°Everything will be fine.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Valerlanta said hesitating. ¡°See you soon, then.¡±


    ¡°See you soon,¡± Venic agreed, and as he watched her go, he had to hold his own wrist to keep from reaching out to stop her.

 Information (Valerlanta)

    The shop the thief had scouted out was in the furthest corner of the city, where the tall grey walls cast an oppressive shadow. Although there was a valiant attempt at a garden, the only signs of life were the patches of vibrant moss that had grown over the thatched roof. They seemed to flourish despite the grim and dismal atmosphere that surrounded them.


    The door of the shop was marked with a red and white striped sign, promising both medical care and a fresh trim. Judging by the broken window patched with sun-bleached wood, business was slow.


    Her first reaction was to raise her hand to knock ?¡ª ?it would be easier, at least ¡ª but then she knew he would not answer, not for her. Not to mention there was no knight with high morals currently watching over her.


    A stray dog that was more interested in something splattered on the ground was the only movement she saw as her eyes briefly flickered around to make sure the street was clear.


    The lock clicked open with a few deft wrist flicks, and she entered.


    Crates lined the walls, and numerous dried plants were strung from the roof. There was a strange bed in the far corner, all metal and without a blanket, perhaps for his injured clients.


    The rich scents of moist earth, leaves, and pine needles smelled so similar to home that it was almost comforting.


    ''Look at you. You''ve only been here a day, and already you''re missing the smells of home.''


    She prowled around curiously, admiring some charms and inhaling strange herbs. When that got boring, the thief went into his kitchen, and made herself a cup of tea.


    It was when Valerlanta was lounging in one of his wicker chairs and sipping a hot beverage that the home owner finally noticed the intruder.


    "Who is there?" He said as he burst in, his walking stick held aloft like a sword, and his face white with terror. When he saw who it was sitting in his chair, the stick lowered, but he backed away two extra-large steps, as if to avoid something poisonous. "You? What are you doing here?"


    "Runen! It is about time, I was starting to believe you were going to sleep all day." Valerlanta said, smiling sly as a cat, "I need your help."


    "My help? Ha! The only thing I should do for you is scream for the city guards. How did you even enter this place? That was a new lock! You had better not have ruined it."


    Runen was still in his nightwear. Valerlanta supposed she should be embarrassed, but she found herself far more uncomfortable with how thin the man was. It made her wonder if he really ate at all.


    Noticing her pitying gaze, it was him instead who cringed away with a flush and grabbed a coat from the floor to make himself at least a tad more decent.


    "I see business is not as strong as it needs to be," she said.


    "I should call the guards." Runen huffed again.


    "Call the guards? Oh Runen, you tried that once before, remember? Besides, with all these tea leaves just sitting around, do you really think that is a good idea? This is the real deal; a unique blend created especially for the king in a valley where the soil produces leaves so delicious that the entire area belongs to the crown. Although having it is quite impressive, the guards won''t think so. It is extremely illegal to even possess these leaves without the king''s written consent; it is on par with murdering a person."


    Of course, the laws did not stop everyone. The right buyer would overlook the legalities just to look fashionable to the guests.


    The man''s eyes flicked to the tea, then back to her.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "What is it you need?" Runen asked.


    "Information."


    It was a known fact that Runen was a well-read man, and that was rare, even among nobles. Of course, he also realized that if she was coming to him, that meant Valerlanta had no other options. Foolishly, he saw that as an advantage and his face lit up. "Information? What sort of information?"


    "On things of dryad make."


    "That sort of information is not cheap, you know. Why should I give such valuable information to the likes of you? Just because of tea blackmail? No. I will tell them it is all yours! Even if the guards don''t believe me and we are both punished, it would all be worth it if I could see you hang first."


    "So dramatic. Runen, you are making it sound like I burned down your house! Unless I am remembering wrong, it was you who sold me out for a few measly petals."


    "And then I came back home and half my things were stolen!" The man shouted. "Half my things! All gone! Right down to one shoe there and one shoe gone!"


    "Half your things for me nearly being caught," she mused, a wicked smile touching her lips. "I would say that is more than fair. Actually, it was probably better than you deserved. Your items sold for a surprisingly low price.


    "Of course they did! Who would want one shoe?"


    "Everything can be sold," she replied confidently. "But not everything should be. Some things come back to haunt you when you try."


    Runen swallowed hard, then made an act of clearing his throat. "I paid my price. I moved and rebuilt myself, and I never crossed your kind again. "


    "As you say."


    There was a long silence as Valerlanta sipped her tea. Runen tapped his foot impatiently, but the thief simply drank  unbothered and let her dark gaze eat into him. Finally finishing her cup, she balanced it on the arm of the chair.


    Despite that, she made no efforts to lift the heavy silence.


    That was the tipping point for him, as she knew it would. Curiosity and desperation had control of him now.


    "What are you doing here?" he blurted. "What brings you this far north? Has some rich noble you are hunting for come this way?"


    Valerlanta reached into her bag and removed the ball.


    It was wrapped in a dirty cloth, but she could still feel the gentle hum it gave off from under her fingers. "This friend of mine here is missing its sibling, and I would really like the family to reunite."


    "And can I see this...friend?"


    "And have your greedy little gaze convince you to do something stupid? I think not. I can tell you all you need to know about it. The orb is of dryad-make, and once-upon-a-time, it was given to a king. You know the story.


    What I need from you is a clue; that is it. Just a quick nudge in the right direction, and I will be out of your path forever."


    "Why should I do that, exactly? Why would I assist someone who helped me fall into this life? Did you know I can barely afford food? Who in their right mind would run to the door for medical aid when I look half dead myself? I can''t even sell those teas because everyone assumes they are fake! I spent the last of my savings on them. I am ruined!"


    "You are blaming me for all this?" She gestured to the house and shook her head in disbelief. "Ha! You were digging yourself into debt long before you crossed me. You can blame me if you want, but you are still going to help me."


    Angry tears welled in his eyes. "Why? Why would I do that?"


    "I can get you a special selection of wounded people; people who do not want word going around that they need fixing or even that they are in the area. Secret clients who pay well to remain as such, and also have the proper networks to sell that tea. You help me, and I will see that you have clients."


    His grip shifted, his jaw trembled, and eventually he slumped against the wall in resignation.


    As Runen cupped his hands around his head, the stick dropped to the ground. ???


    Abruptly, the man was looking very small and hopeless, and Valerlanta quickly tore her gaze away; looking anywhere but at him.


    "There is a door, one lined with dryad script, inside the castle underground," he spoke through his fingers. "I have never been down there, so I can not confirm the rumours, but that is all I know."


    Valerlanta sat there a moment longer, but silence did not change his words, so she rose and went for the door. As Valerlanta was only just about to step out, she gave one last look over her shoulder. "Sell me out again, and I will kill you."


    Runen said nothing in reply, he didn''t even turn to see her go.


    As she walked back the way she had come, Valerlanta actually found herself feeling sorry for the greedy little man.


    ''Blast. If I didn''t know any better, I would say Venic is getting to me with his high-and-mighty morals.''


    And now she had to think of a way to convince that influential knight to let her sneak into a castle and steal. If only she had some sort of proof to ¡ª


    Over the wall, there was a hollow wail of a horn, indicating someone of importance approaching the gates.


    Freezing in her step, Valerlanta felt like the buildings around her were going to topple upon her.


    He was here.


    The gates would be shut since the sun was almost about to set. He couldn''t enter...could he? Would they let him in?


    Suddenly, she came to a crossroads with the castle on one side, and Venic on the other.


    At the second call of the horn, Valerlanta ran.

 Thief (Valerlanta)

    Within the shadows of the looming rampart, Valerlanta swung the rope, weighted with a stick, in wide, steady circles above her head. The arc grew wider, faster, until she released it.


    The stick soared out of sight, then hit stone with a dull thud. Valerlanta flinched, her breath catching, and waited for an alarm to be raised. But there was nothing¡ªno shouts, no hurried footsteps.


    She tugged on the rope, feeling it go taut.


    ''First try,'' she thought. A good omen, perhaps.


    The thief was at the lowest section of the castle rampart, where the stick was now wedged securely between two merlons. Coming to this spot had been a gamble¡ªwithin the walled city and likely less patrolled by guards¡ªbut she couldn''t be certain.


    Valerlanta hesitated.


    ''Am I really doing this?'' Stealing from a castle? She had never attempted a job this big, let alone solo.


    A voice in the back of her mind reminded her that Venic was waiting, maybe even searching for her by now.


    But there was no time to dwell on that.


    That horrid man was here, and he would ruin everything if she didn''t move quickly.


    The weathered stone was slick beneath her boots, but she found her footing and began to climb. The city sprawled out behind her, a sea of twinkling lanterns and the occasional flicker of light from passersby.


    Reaching the top, Valerlanta pulled herself up to her elbows, exhaling sharply¡ªonly to freeze as movement caught her eye. Instinctively, she dropped back down, clinging to the ledge with just her fingertips. The strain was immediate, biting into her muscles.


    A clink of boots approached, echoing off the stone.


    Her fingers began to slide.


    She glanced at the rope¡ªgrabbing it again would make the anchor clatter against the stone, a sure giveaway.


    Valerlanta held her breath, her body trembling with the effort.


    Her grip continued to loosen.


    Torchlight glimmered above.


    The guard paused, his heavy, raspy breathing betraying his age. She desperately hoped that the old age came with poorer eyesight.


    She bit her lip, every muscle screaming, as she waited for him to move on.


    After what felt like an eternity, the guard''s steps resumed, fading down the wall.


    Knowing her time was limited, Valerlanta heaved herself up. She kept low, eyes darting as she watched the guards patrolling the long stretch. With a swift motion, she tossed the rope down from where she had climbed.


    She had no choice now.


    Standing between two towers, she was completely exposed. If the sentries in the towers didn''t spot her, those in the courtyard below or even the great hall might.


    Keeping low, Valerlanta rushed into the nearest tower door.


    The interior was as black as any cave she had ever explored.


    Her heart pounded, her breathing quickening as she waited of her eyes to adjust to the darkness. A faint glimmer of light revealed itself further down the spiraling stairs.


    The steps wound downward in near-total darkness, save for the occasional torch casting flickering light against the stone. The light beckoned her deeper, and she descended as quickly as she dared, the dizzying spiral threatening her balance.


    One doorway passed by, but it wasn''t the one she needed. She continued without hesitation. There were no sounds of anyone else upon the stairs. It seemed everyone was either in bed or had gathered at the gate, drawn by the commotion.


    When the final doorway came into view, it was ajar. Valerlanta pressed her back against the cold stone, cautiously peeking around the door frame.


    Ahead lay a large courtyard, the royal gardens at its center. The scent of horse stables drifted on the cool night air.


    Darting to the cover of a nearby wheelbarrow, Valerlanta crouched low. From here, she could see a distant guard stationed at the gate.


    Training told her to observe the guards'' movements, to learn their patterns before moving. But there was no time for that. Lowering herself onto her belly, she began to crawl, inching forward with agonizing slowness. The carefully trimmed bushes loomed ahead, offering the cover she needed.


    Palenwood castle was -- likely thanks to it''s wild setting -- not large, and she hoped that also meant castle guards were too costly of a budget to have too many.


    Once surrounded by the foliage, she rose into a crouch, quickening her pace as the greenery shielded her. The main doors loomed ahead, but she ignored them, veering left toward a smaller, hidden door, its entrance masked by clever stonework.


    Inside, the air was warm, tinged with the smell of recent meals. The kitchen was empty, its cooking fire reduced to embers, plates neatly stacked in the corners. It was late, too late for dinner, but the kitchens were usually staffed at all hours. The absence of people made her pause.


    Could this be a trap?


    Her heart skipped a beat at the thought, but she quickly dismissed it. Not even she had known she would come at this moment. How could they?


    As an answer, she caught the sound of giggling from a nearby room and noticed a broom leaning against the door frame.


    An amused smirk tugged at her lips as she continued on.


    At the end of the hall, Valerlanta slipped into a narrow servant''s staircase, navigating it quickly. The exit was so tight she had to turn sideways to squeeze through. Beyond it, stone columns carved with ghastly creatures rose into a vast, shadowy space. The one nearest her depicted a commoner bravely wielding a fallen knight''s sword against a fearsome dragon. The story spiraled around the column, culminating on the opposite side.


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    This wasn''t just any hall, she realized with a caught breath. These columns recorded the kingdom''s past, etched in stone.


    Candles flickered atop a table still laden with the remnants of a meal, likely left by those seeking refuge from the days heat.


    She spotted three guards ahead, casually strolling between the columns as if they had all the time in the world. One even snatched a piece of half-eaten bread, munching on it as he patrolled.


    They had grown complacent in their safety.


    Beyond them was the doorway she sought, its frame etched with symbols matching those on her puzzle ball.


    The castle was not an overly large one, but she still mentally thanked whatever caused her to be lucky enough to end up exactly where she needed to be on the very first try. All she had planned was "go downwards," and....here she was.


    But the guards stood in her way, and she needed to get past them.


    Fortunately, the pillars cast long shadows, untouched by the candlelight.


    Valerlanta crept forward, darting from pillar to pillar.


    The last of her cover ran out, leaving her exposed with a guard directly in her path. He bent to retrieve his water skin, and she seized the opportunity, darting past him in a swift, silent motion.


    Valerlanta ducked inside, nearly running into a thin cord strung across the entrance. She halted just in time, leaping over it and narrowly avoiding the bells that would have sounded her arrival.


    Breathing a sigh of relief, she continued into the room.


    The interior reminded Valerlanta of a dragon''s hoard. Golden cups, weapons, baskets, books, and even a life-sized miniature pony made of gold crowded the space.


    ''A clever trick,'' she thought. ''Hide one item of value among hundreds, and only someone who knows what they''re looking for could find the right one.''


    A vise-like pressure gripped her chest, but she forced herself to move slowly toward the first table. Several items bore inscriptions in dryad script, but something about them felt wrong.


    It was too easy. All of it was too easy.


    The only explanation for a treasure room without a door was that some of the items were rigged to alarm.


    ''A room full of goods, but only one item matters,'' Valerlanta reminded herself, scanning every detail. ''Most would reach for the most expensive item; others, thinking they''re clever, would go for the least. Neither would be right.''


    A jeweled dagger? Too obvious.


    A golden codpiece? Amusing, but no.


    Her hand hovered over a small, simple toy box. It was unremarkable, save for a carved tree on the lid. If she had to guess, it was made to hold toy soldiers or something similar¡ªor at least it was meant to look that way.


    The fact that a simple toy box had a small lock keeping it closed was what struck her as peculiar. What was more was that the lock had the tiniest line of dryad script.


    Valerlanta swallowed hard and touched the box. Then, with one final breath, she lifted it.


    The box came free in her hand. Her body tensed, waiting.


    Nothing happened.


    Curiosity gnawed at her, urging her to pick the lock right there, but she slipped the box into her bag instead and took one last glance at the remaining items.


    She only had one chance at this.


    Hesitating, Valerlanta debated whether to trust her gut or risk grabbing more items, each one potentially triggering an alarm. After a few more breaths, she made her decision and left the rest behind.


    As she planned her escape, a commotion echoed from the grand staircase reserved for nobles. A large group was thundering down the steps.


    The guards in the room straightened, weapons drawn, as they edged toward the door. Seizing the distraction, Valerlanta padded out of the room and dove behind a pillar as the soldiers marched in.


    It was the hound''s men¡ªtheir uniforms gave them away immediately¡ªbut they weren''t alone. Palenwood guards, a nobleman, and someone whose presence sent a chill through her veins.


    Askyel of House Lochsell.


    The black market leader strode confidently, leading the group of men as if he were in charge.


    No, he was in charge.


    "Go fetch it," he ordered, and three men sprang into action.


    Valerlanta pressed her back against the cold stone, her heart pounding in her ears.


    Her hand brushed the hilt of her dagger, a small comfort.


    "It''s gone!" a guard shouted, rushing back into the room. "Someone has taken it!"


    "We should lock down the city," barked a raspy voice. From the arrogance in his tone, Valerlanta guessed it belonged to the young nobleman who''d recently been granted this castle by the king. "We''ll search every home, and burn down those who don''t comply!"


    ''What a charming leader. Pride of his people, I bet.''


    "No need for that," Askyel responded, voice laced with amusement.


    "Why not? You said the king himself requires it. If a commoner has it, we must retrieve it before their filth corrupts it!"


    "There''s no need. You told me yourself you ensured it''s safety before meeting us at the gate, and so if its gone now...that would leave dreadfully little time for the thief. In fact, I am impressed there was time to get in here and grab it at all."


    Valerlanta''s muscles tensed, her breath caught.


    "Why does that matter?" the brat asked, his irritation clear.


    "It matters," Askyel said, his tone darkening, "because she''s still here."


    The boy gasped, and before the guards could process Askyel''s words, Valerlanta sprang from her hiding spot.


    "There!" a voice shouted.


    The two guards by the stairs lunged at her, but Valerlanta ducked under their arms, narrowly escaping their grasp.


    "Stop her!" the brat screeched, his voice cracking with fear.


    Valerlanta took the stairs two at a time, but something caught her ankle, sending her crashing hard against the stone steps.


    A rough hand clamped down, dragging her back toward the waiting men.


    Desperation fueled her as she scrambled for a hold, kicking furiously with her free leg.


    The man grunted in pain, his grip unwavering, until finally, one of her boots connected with his face. His nose crunched under the impact, and he lost his balance, toppling backward and taking another guard with him.


    Valerlanta didn''t hesitate. She bolted up the stairs, her head spinning from the relentless ascent.


    Bursting out onto the ground floor and out the kitchen, she raced across the courtyard without slowing to check if anyone was there.


    The shouts of alarm grew louder, echoing through the grounds.


    No on blocked her path back up onto the rampart.


    The rope was gone, but perhaps¡ªjust perhaps¡ªthe trees below would break her fall.


    Her feet skidded to a stop as the old guard stepped out of the doorway in front of her, a bow drawn and aimed at her.


    "Halt!" He rasped.


    Valerlanta spun around, only to find the doorway there blocked by soldiers spilling out onto the stonework.


    She was trapped.


    "Give up," a familiar voice ordered; it was the one that sometimes surfaced in nightmares. "There''s nowhere for you to run."


    Valerlanta let a sly smile play on her lips as she removed her pack and swung it before her, back-and-forth, tauntingly.  "Aw, poor thing, so upset. What''s wrong, little hound? Do I have something you want?"


    Jerstain''s grin was wicked, his eyes crazed as they fixed on her with a disturbing intensity. Valerlanta had memories of him being impossibly tall as a giant, but had wondered if it was just her fear that made him seem like way. Now, however, she saw the truth of it. He towered over both her and his men, and had the thick muscles to match his height. "You are in no position to bargain. Look around you! You are surrounded. Surrender peacefully, or things will get very painful for you."


    Oh, she had no doubt about that. However...


    Valerlanta arched an eyebrow, letting the pack slip from her fingers. It sailed over the edge of the wall, disappearing into the darkness below.


    "Oops," she said with mock innocence.


    In an instant, the soldiers were upon her.


    Valerlanta managed to draw her knives, one in each hand, slashing and stabbing with desperate precision.


    She saw some men drop under her blade, but not enough. Not even close to enough. Their numbers overwhelmed her.


    Just as Valerlanta made the desperate decision to use magic, a sharp blow struck the back of her head, sending her crumpling down.


    Rough hands twisted her arms behind her back and pulled,  so she had to look up at Jerstain.


    He loomed over and cold fear hit her in the chest.


    "And so the forest finally loses one of it''s rats." He said, happily.


    Any hope of concentrating enough to use magic vanished as his boot slammed into her, again and again, each blow driving her deeper into the abyss of pain.

 Broken Ego (Valerlanta)

    something, but everything hurt.


    ¡®Get up. At least try to get up,¡¯ she urged herself, but her body refused to obey. The room was dim, but the fact that she could see at all meant that some manner of light was returning to the sky. She had lost the entire night to pain, to unconsciousness.


    you.¡±


    had warned her.


    ¡®Valerlanta,¡¯ he had said. ¡®Perhaps it would be better if you sold the orb to me and left it at that? There is movement in the woods, and word is that Wlyfaren is planning on crossing the border any day now. The wilds will be full of war. It is oftentimes like this where it is best to lay low.¡¯


    ¡®Valerlanta, if you don¡¯t hand it over, I¡¯ll sell you out and try to have you killed?¡¯ That would¡¯ve done it.¡±


    him. Then, it would be his curiousity that would bring him to me¡­not you. Then, all I would have to do is nudge his curiosity in the right direction so he would continue on to where we needed him to be.¡±


    father¡­?¡±


    all of it, but it was my requirement for aiding this little scheme. Why do you think that, out of the entire wilds, everything happened in your fathers territory?¡± Askyel explained, ¡°Then if Nymven didn¡¯t kill the knight upon meeting him, Venic would lead him towards Palenwood, where the third piece would be conveniently waiting with very little security, and your father would pick up the wrong one, set off the bells to alert the gaurds, and meet his end. To think you would grab the right one! That was a wonderful surprise.¡±


    never supposed to be you,¡± he said again, his face flickering over hers, and Valerlanta realized she did not have a mask and felt exposed as he took in her facial features for the first time. ¡°No, I had plans for you.¡±


    nothing.


    never on your side. He¡¯s a spy that turned his back on his home kingdom, Valerlanta.¡±


    king.


    ¡°I think,¡± she rasped, ¡°when I get out of here, I¡¯ll coat random things in your house with fenbane bark dust. You¡¯ll get a rash every time you touch something, but you won¡¯t know what¡¯s safe. I¡¯ll keep doing it, too, every chance I get, until you¡¯re too scared to pick anything up ¡ª even your own clothes ¡ª and slowly fall into madness until you wander naked in the streets.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Her scream echoed in the empty cell, but the footsteps outside faded away, leaving her alone, chained, and sinking deeper into the crushing weight of her failure.

 Goals (Venic)

    anyone.


    ¡®This is what you signed up for,¡¯ a voice in his head reminded him coldly.


    The plan had gone as smoothly as the king predicted. Venic had retrieved the artifacts, survived the whole journey, and delivered the member of the thieves guild. Everything should be over now; finished. He had done what he was meant to do.


    And yet... something inside him twisted, an unrelenting knot lodged beneath his ribs, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.


    Valerlanta stumbled again, collapsing into the dirt. Her legs had given out completely this time, her body crumpling like a puppet who¡¯s strings were suddenly cut. The soldiers didn¡¯t stop. They dragged her limp form along the dirt road as if she were nothing more than cargo.


    ¡®Think of Dafelis.,¡¯ he told himself. ¡®Think of all your plans; your dreams!¡¯


    Now, it was all done. He could live like a knight once more ¡ª enjoy the feathered beds and the lavish feasts ¡ª free from the filth and desperation. What was more, was that after the coming war was done, the King had promised his sisters safety and freedom.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    It was kinder than Venic deserved.


    ¡®Valerlanta is not your problem. She never was. She¡¯s just a part of the plan.¡¯


    Venic sucked in a sharp breath and turned away¡­or at least¡­ he tried to. Some force held him; a pull that yanked his gaze back to the west, to the hill where the platoon had vanished.


    ¡°Blast!¡± The word tore from his throat, startling a bird from the trees.


    He was a knight.


    He was a spy.


    He wasn¡¯t some forest-loving peasant.


    He wanted the feathered beds. He wanted the feasts. He wanted¡ª


    He wanted¡­.


    ¡°Oh, for fate¡¯s sake!¡± he snarled, making his way toward the forest, each footfall heavy with frustration.


    This was stupid. This was worse than stupid; it was suicide. He¡¯d be giving up everything for a thief, a forest folk who wasn¡¯t even meant to survive. It would risk Dafelis and destroy any hopes of piecing together the shards of his prior life.


    Despite all that, despite every rational thought in his head screaming at him to let her go, Venic found himself heading back toward the treeline, where his belongings waited.

 Brands (Valerlanta)

    And¡­" she sighed, "he likes apple-spiced stew."


    are in great pain, and for that I am sorry."


    everything¡ªher life¡¯s energy, her very essence¡ªsealing it within a tree to sustain the magic. What remains of her is only a fragment. A sliver of what she once was. I am that sliver."


    flattered you think I¡¯m capable of such a feat, but let¡¯s set aside the small problem of me being a battered, half-dead prisoner for a moment. Why me?" She crossed her arms. "Yes, we might be very, very, distantly related, but let¡¯s not forget¡ªyou¡¯re the one who stripped magic from this world, leaving it in the hands of one bloodline. And guess what? That little decision led to a king who discovered drinking blood could make him stronger."


    ''She really thinks I could do it.''


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    There was so much hope in those large eyes that a pang of pity and guilt pulled at the thief.


    Please."


    deserved to have hope again.


    <hr>


    ''Well.'' She exhaled, tasting blood. ''That¡¯s interesting.''

 Sneaky Knight

''Now.''


    ''There¡¯s the girl I know.'' A slow grin curled his lips.


    <hr>


    second time.


    Wrong direction.''


    Val.¡±


    my cloak.¡±


    inside?¡±


    you are.¡±