《The Heart of Anarand》 Prologue The legends of the Amni tell that in the distant past, Anarand¡¯aris was a wild, untamed world, unsuitable for life or the rise of civilization. It was then that the six Overlords, born from the Energy of Creation, descended from Elianno¡ªthe home of the gods. With the aid of a uniquely powerful artifact, they transformed Anarand¡¯aris into a vibrant, living world, rich with a diversity of species and home to three human races. Leading this new civilization, the Overlords worked alongside humanity, ushering in an era of prosperity, enlightenment, and wonders unseen ever since. The people called this artifact the Heart of Anarand. So vast was its power that the Overlords divided it into six separate pieces¡ªone for each of them¡ªknown as the Aledarani. Each Aledara held dominion over an Element of Creation: Fire, Water, Air, Earth, Life, and Death. With their Aledara in hand, each Overlord was more powerful than the other five combined. Only in times of great need were the Aledarani brought together by their keepers to once again reassemble the Heart of Anarand. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! These same legends speak of how the Overlords sacrificed the Heart of Anarand to seal the Do¡¯gaar Portal forever, thus ending the War with Aart¨®kh-D¨¢ggaras and saving their beloved Anarand¡¯aris from utter destruction in the insatiable maw of Chaos. Bereft of their source of power and no longer able to exist in physical form, they departed from our world and returned to Elianno. Yet, some romantic tales whisper that the six Aledarani still remain, hidden, sustaining the world and keeping it forever beyond the grasp of Morit¨¢n. Four millennia have passed, and the truth of this legend is yet to be unveiled. Chapter 1.1 - An Old Song Anarand¡¯aris, Year 4.310 in the Age of Last Hope 7th of Yumtal in the Windy Season D¡¯al Vorat, County of Amalay, Realm of Kiriador I sprinted toward the song, summoning all the strength I could muster. The distant, melancholic melody suffused the air with a heady blend of longing, fear, and temptation. Ahead, the nocturnal forest unfolded as a half-forgotten dream, its shadowy branches clawing at the air like the restless hands of nameless phantoms. A cold wind swept past, brushing my face with whispers of long-forgotten promises. ??? dan liadar tir sana k¡¯alano, ru sal radianoni¡¯mii ke¡¯vileno ??? ??? o atri sorono galati eleda esied¡¯iradanno ??? Come, beloved, and gaze into my eyes, the melody whispered. They hold the color of a sapphire sky. The words, sung in the ancient tongue, resonated in my mind, awakening forsaken memories. They carried a tender invitation, laced with a subtle yet irresistible command. The very air pulsed with their meaning, drawing me toward the song¡¯s source, tempting me to uncover its secret. Ahead, a dim scarlet glow pierced the darkness. The twisted silhouettes of the trees, where the light seeped through, resembled a blood-drenched gateway to Aart¨®kh-D¨¢ggaras. ??? dan liadar tir sana k¡¯alano, ru bao lansa¡¯mina ke¡¯binado ??? ??? o atra per¡¯innog enno asa ulani¡¯tamadol ??? The melody deepened, weaving a tapestry of ache and yearning around my mind. It felt both intimate and inescapable. Its words curled through the air like a lover¡¯s caress. It filled me with strength beyond my own. A final barrier stood before me¡ªa wall of tightly entwined branches and brambles. Careless, I plunged through. The forest fell away, and I emerged into a clearing steeped in otherworldly beauty. Across the dense carpet of moss, jagged stones and gnarled roots jutted out like ancient, weathered bones. The air was thick with the scents of damp leaves, tree sap, and freshly disturbed soil. Mist clung to the ground, catching the scarlet glow in countless droplets that resembled fresh-spilled blood. ??? dan liadar tir sana k¡¯alano, ru asa salisuni¡¯minani ke¡¯nasmao ??? ??? o atri bognu galati eleda alerid¡¯karidan ??? The melody was inside me now, resonating in my bones with a promise I couldn¡¯t ignore. As I could not ignore the light ahead. Its source was deceptively small¡ªno larger than a closed fist¡ªyet brilliant. It appeared motionless but within it, a core of scarlet pulsed like something alive. A crystal orb. It sat upon an altar at the heart of the clearing, its surface worn smooth by centuries of rain and wind. The colors of the world drained around the orb¡¯s glow. The trees, the stones, even the sky¡ªall of it faded to washed-out gray shadows. Only the scarlet light remained. It seared into my vision. It called to me. ??? sana azur¡¯din enno liadar¡¯min, ru kalit¡¯din enno ??? ??? sana meeru¡¯dina enno liadar¡¯min, ru roshta¡¯dina enno ??? ??? sana dan ree¡¯vedeo, este ¡¯moritan ran¡¯alano ??? The song whispered of life and death, of passion and pain. A tapestry woven from threads I dared not unravel. Because its meaning was dreadfully familiar, feeling as though it had always been there, waiting for me to remember. To remember her. With an effort, I tore my gaze from the orb¡ªto finally look at her motionless figure. She was kneeling before the altar, wrapped in heavy scarlet robes, the melody spilling from her hidden lips now reduced to a soft, wordless hum. Sensing my gaze, she rose with an ethereal grace and turned to face me. From the shadowed depths of her hood, unseen eyes locked onto mine. A force beyond reason compelled me forward. Every fiber of my being screamed for me to turn back. Yet my feet moved of their own accord, as though bound by invisible strings. I took a hesitant step. Then another. The closer I drew, the heavier the air became, burdened with unspoken promises. It was suffused with an overwhelming presence, suffocating in its intensity. I thought I almost saw the physical manifestation of it¡ªa moving web of ethereal crimson tendrils coiling around us. Then, somehow, I was a breath away from her. And, as if possessed by a will of its own, the robe slipped off her shoulders. For a painfully long moment, my heart stopped at the sight of the gorgeous, naked body unveiled before me. Her graceful curves and delicate forms radiated an otherworldly beauty, as though woven from the fabric of the most sacred of dreams. Stolen novel; please report. My gaze traced the entirety of her, lingering on the enchanting, luxuriant waves of the waist-length crimson hair¡­ only to halt in bewilderment at the white mask concealing her face. Not a single feature marred its flawless surface, and the small eyeholes, paired with the slightly larger mouth opening, only deepened its eerie blankness. My hand glided over her mist-dampened skin, toward the delicate hollow at the base of her throat. There, it lingered for what felt like a torturous eternity. The air between us pulsed, charged with desperate desire. Unthinking, I reached out. A voice screamed in my mind, begging me to stop. But something primal and unyielding had taken hold. It whispered that the answers I yearned for lay behind that featureless surface. My eyes sought her face even as I tore away the mask. And when they found it, the enchantment gripping my mind shattered, like a lumin-crystal struck by a lightning bolt. A scream reverberated through the trees. And it did not belong to me alone. Two voices intertwined in it¡ªone filled with abject horror, the other laced with hurt and fury. The sound echoed, raw and violent¡ªthen shattered the silence of my bedroom. For a fleeting, vertiginous instant, I hovered between realms. The darkness seemed to take on a life of its own. It swelled beyond control, ready to burst forth and spill its nightmarish shadows. My pulse thundered. Sweat trickled down my forehead, stinging my eyes. It was sheer madness, and yet I could almost catch a faint trace of her scent in the air. The melody of the song lingered in my ears like a fading whisper from the spirit world. ¡°By Azur¡¯s light,¡± I groaned, running a trembling hand over my face in a futile effort to wipe away the sweat. Even without the adrenaline surging through my veins, the night remained unbearably warm. The silk sheets clung to my damp skin, their texture smooth, clammy, and suffocating. The sensation was too familiar. It reminded me of her passionate embrace and more. Pain. Violence. Death. I could not bear it. I threw the wet sheets aside and rose swiftly. Still, the walls of the bedroom seemed to close in around me, heavy, suffocating. I needed air. Dizzy, I stumbled toward the balcony, ignoring the lumin-crystal lamp on the nightstand. Instead, I let Ria¡¯s silver moonlight, generously spilling through the wide-open windows, guide my steps. Outside, the night wind felt like salvation. Still unusually strong for the late Windy Season, it carried the faint scent of fish, the brine of lake water, the acrid tang of fresh tar, and the distant murmur of the northern harbor. It could not silence the lingering echoes of my dream, but at least it gave me something else to focus on. With my hands resting on the railing, I gazed at the painfully familiar lights of the city sprawling beneath the castle. From here, the entirety of D¡¯al Vorat lay before me, unobstructed, and even on ordinary nights, this view brought me inner peace. The sense of being home, where everything was in its rightful place, was a precious thing, a rare comfort indeed. Tonight, I found myself appreciating it more than ever. ¡°Ra¡¯maen.¡± The name left my lips unbidden, carrying with it a tidal wave of emotions: anger, hate, longing, and a bitter ache I had tried for a decade to forget. It sent a shiver through me, despite the night¡¯s warmth, leaving a bittersweet taste on my tongue. ¡°Ra¡¯maen¡­ why do you haunt my nightmares again now, after all this time?¡± No one answered, of course. Yet, for an agonizing moment, I couldn¡¯t suppress the need to hear her voice. It was a cruel reminder that some wounds never truly heal, despite the passage of time. With that thought, my fingers traced the scar at the base of my neck, only to withdraw, trembling. ¡°Why now?¡± I whispered into the empty night. The futile question hung in the air for an instant before the wind swallowed it whole. An acute need suddenly gripped me: to head to the study and pour myself a strong glass of di¡¯erae, though by my own standards, it was far too early for any alcohol. Ah, what harm could it possibly do? I thought, striding purposefully toward the door. The sudden flap of wings overhead made me freeze mid-step. §®y gaze darted upwards toward the night sky. The sparse stars left wide gaps in between, ample space for a predator to lurk and maneuver, hidden within the endless expanse. Years had passed since the last gah¡¯ardar attack, a vile mutant from the Faithless Lands, yet the chaos and destruction it wrought still made people glance warily at the sky. In my current state of mind, I half-expected to see the winged horror of twisted flesh descending upon the castle. After several tense moments, however, I finally spotted the vague silhouette of something high above. The source of my unease turned out to be a large bird. From what I could tell, it was heading straight for my balcony. Soon, the bird dipped low enough to catch Ria¡¯s light, its feathers igniting in cool, orange-yellow flames. An Amber Hawk! I mused, surprised. This was no ordinary bird, drifting through time and space; it was a viliehar, a messenger. The hawk descended toward the stone railing, its wings beating steadily to slow its momentum. The wind stirred by it brushed against my face, carrying the scent of wild air and distant stormfronts. It prompted me to close my eyes for a moment. When I opened them again, its sharp talons were already gripping the edge of the railing. Its wings folded gracefully, a faint shiver running through them. The hawk inspected me, tilting its head to regard me with one unblinking eye, then the other. A moment later, it let out a soft, expectant cry. ¡°Viliehar v¡¯alano (Welcome, messenger),¡± I said softly, extending my right fist toward it. The hawk eyed me once more, its amber gaze fearless, then hopped lightly from the railing onto my arm. Its talons gripped my naked skin without piercing it. That was part of its magic. A small black box was fastened to its left leg. ¡°Is this for me?¡± I asked, though it was merely a formality. Viliehari never err in finding their intended recipient. The hawk let out another cry, watching me with a hint of impatience. I smiled and carefully unfastened the box. ¡°Thank you. You are free to hunt upon my lands.¡± The hawk gave a final cry and, with a few powerful flaps of its wings, soared into the night. I gripped the box tightly. A sudden irrational fear surged through me at the impossible thought that the sender could be Ra¡¯maen herself. Sentimental fool, I chastised myself, staring at the small object. Absurd as it was, it took a surprising effort to open my palm and look inside. A moment later, I exhaled in relief. The seal bore the crest of my brother, Arin Vorat. Still, it was odd for Arin to send a viliehar. I hadn¡¯t even known he possessed one. Why hadn¡¯t he simply used a comm-disc, as he usually did? With a mix of curiosity and unease, I broke the seal with my thumb and carefully unrolled the note. The moonlight provided enough illumination to make out the writing. As expected, the text was encrypted, the handwriting unmistakably his. Yet, what truly caught me off guard was the cipher Arin had chosen. Both the dream and the thought of di¡¯erae vanished from my mind. Arin had used the most intricate cipher known to the Vorat Family. Unlike him, I required the codebook to unravel it, a task I knew would take considerable time and focus. I hurried back into the bedroom, seized the first robe within reach, and all but sprinted toward the study. Chapter 1.2 - Urgent Letter 7th of Yumtal The fifty or so steps up the spiral staircase seemed endless, each stretching as though conspiring to delay my arrival. Impatience burned within me as I finally burst into the spacious, oval room. The book I sought was secured in the small vault beneath my desk. With a sweaty hand, I unlocked the mechanisms and hauled open the heavy steel door. Lumin-crystals embedded in the vault¡¯s walls flickered to life, casting a soft, cool glow over the meticulously organized contents. Documents, a casket of gold anarandi, another filled with precious gems, several priceless artifacts, and finally, the Vorat Family codebook. I reached for it but something else drew my attention: a small, pale leather pouch, its strings hanging loosely where they should have been securely tied. Through the opening, I caught a glimpse of the object within¡ªa nearly transparent crystal orb, no larger than a hen¡¯s egg. A faint scarlet glow pulsed at its core. My outstretched hand suddenly went numb. ¡°By Kalit¡¯s oblivion, she awakens!¡± I breathed, the ground seeming to vanish beneath my feet. I was forced to lean on the desk for support, my senses reeling. The nightmare that had jolted me awake now took on a far darker and more sinister meaning. Still, surely, I could delay this problem¡ªjust for a while? A foolish hope, I knew, yet one I could not resist. ¡°Dan vis¡¯d¡¯amni ke¡¯stetto visnu¡¯vis (The d¡¯amni, one by one),¡± I whispered to myself. With a swift motion, I tightened the pouch¡¯s strings and reached for the codebook, intent on focusing on Arin¡¯s letter. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, I closed the vault door and finally settled at the desk, placing a solid barrier between myself and the orb. The embrace of my desk chair had never felt so comforting. For a fleeting moment, I was tempted to pour myself that coveted glass of di¡¯erae but quickly dismissed the thought. I would need a clear mind to properly decode the message. Besides, even the mere five steps to the drinks cabinet felt too far just now. Time to unravel this, I thought, flipping to the correct page. Minutes stretched into segments, segments into partitions, until the Blood Dawn crept across the world, its concentrated light pouring through the tower¡¯s windows, bathing the page in crimson. Even with the codebook¡¯s guidance, deciphering the message was a deliberate, grueling process¡ªjust as it was meant to be. I stared at my fresh handwriting, the meaning of Arin¡¯s words now clear. Kael, My extensive research has finally borne fruit, and we stand on the precipice of our childhood dream. But a grave matter has arisen. Someone has discovered my findings. I know not who, but they have already attempted to seize them, and matters grow perilous here. I am under constant surveillance. I wished to return to D¡¯al Vorat to prepare an expedition, but I fear I would not make it far from Westgate now. Your aid is urgently required. I have taken refuge at The Golden Nugget inn. Trust no one, save perhaps our mentor, and come swiftly! Arin P.S. Beware the comm-discs! They are compromised! I read the letter once more, then used the fire prism on my desk to reduce both the original and my painstakingly decoded version to ashes. My fears were justified¡ªArin was in danger, and this time, it was grave. I knew my brother, and he would not exaggerate such peril. He possessed a keen sense for his limits and when to seek assistance. Yet I still grappled with his meaning, despite a general understanding of his latest research. What had he uncovered that he dared not write plainly, even in code? And how, by Lanat¡¯s cunning, could the comm-discs be compromised? If Arin¡¯s instincts were sound, I could ill afford further delay. A discreet knock at the study door shattered my concentration, drawing my gaze from the ashes that were once two documents. ¡°Enter,¡± I called out, and moments later, Daaris, my s¡¯uldin, stepped inside. ¡°Lord Vorat, you are up early today,¡± he observed, forgoing formalities. ¡°Nightmares, both in slumber and waking, Daaris,¡± I replied, my tone dry. ¡°To what do I owe this visit?¡± He regarded me with genuine concern, though overt curiosity was not in his nature. Instead, he proceeded directly to the matter at hand: ¡°A matter of concern, My Lord. One of the patrols due back last night has vanished, leaving no trace of the three guards. Their comm-disc has remained silent, and neither the city nor the castle has sighted them since their departure. The likelihood of their return is grim.¡± When our eyes met, undisguised worry lingered in his gaze. ¡°This is the third such disappearance in the past two months.¡± ¡°By Morit¨¢n¡¯s ruin, of all times!¡± I exclaimed, glancing upward as the weight of mounting troubles settled over me. Misfortune rarely arrives unaccompanied. ¡°What was their assigned route?¡± ¡°The same as the last two, My Lord¡ªalong the Border with the Wastes.¡± The Wastes¡ªa designation for the vast, desolate territories that lie between the Enlightened Realms and the Faithless Lands. These lands were remnants of the partial merging of Anarand¡¯aris and Aart¨®kh-D¨¢ggaras four millennia past, and even now, they remain uninhabited. The Wastes were strewn with ancient ruins, shattered cities, and long-forgotten relics of the once-great Lir¡¯Anarand civilization. Roaming that desolation were often vicious Faithless bands in search of ancient loot, as well as a path to the prosperous lands of modern Anarand. This was one of the reasons for the constant vigilance along the Wastes Border. ¡°And did none of the guards stationed there witness anything?¡± I pressed. Daaris tugged at the collar of his tunic with his fingertips, a habit he possessed when deeply troubled. ¡°No, My Lord. Their final report came from Tower Two-Seventeen yesterday morning, precisely as scheduled. After that, they proceeded westward toward Mount Karaahar, and that is all I have been able to ascertain.¡± Stolen novel; please report. The nightmare¡¯s lingering grip, the awakened orb, the threat in Arin¡¯s letter, and now this crisis¡ªit all came crashing down on me like a battering ram. ¡°Three well-trained guards do not simply vanish, may Morit¨¢n take it!¡± I slammed my fist on the desk, scattering ashes about the surface. The pen stand wobbled precariously, nearly toppling over the stack of documents awaiting my review. Daaris didn¡¯t flinch at my uncharacteristic outburst. He knew me too well for such things to unsettle him¡ªa quality I secretly admired. ¡°This matter may not be connected to the previous two, My Lord,¡± he began thoughtfully. ¡°The first patrol vanished to the north of Tower One-Nine, and the second, to the northeast of One-Twenty-One.¡± ¡°Indeed. I must be a d¡¯amnos, then!¡± My tone was sharper than intended, yet I could still not restrain myself. ¡°My Lord, you should not jest about such matters,¡± Daaris said with a hint of disapproval, yet I waved his concern aside. ¡°What I mean to convey is that Tower Two-Seventeen lies more than two hundred kilometers distant. If this is the work of the same Faithless band, their reach would be exceptionally vast¡­ assuming, of course, that it is indeed the Faithless we are confronting,¡± he added cautiously. ¡°By Moira¡¯s serene grace, Daaris, must you truly indulge in such speculation?¡± I sighed, struggling to regain my composure. ¡°I am not claiming the rumors of the common folk to be true, My Lord,¡± he replied, his tone calm and unwavering. ¡°But you must concede, whoever is responsible for this is employing methods far from typical of the barbarians.¡± Inwardly, I had to acknowledge that Daaris had a point. The Faithless were known to leave gruesome and unmistakable signs of their atrocities in the Enlightened Realms¡ªflayed corpses with skin stretched over bone frames; the heads of women and children impaled on stakes; villages reduced to ash and livestock senselessly slaughtered. No, isolated patrols vanishing without a trace near the Border was not a deed easily attributed to our bloodthirsty neighbors. The rumors spreading through the villages and D¡¯al Vorat whispered of nameless, ancient horrors lurking in the night, feeding fear among my people. The fact that even Daaris had begun to heed them was troubling. It was imperative to address the matter, and swiftly. ¡°Dispatch an elite squad of twenty,¡± I commanded. ¡°Equip them with two comm-discs and ensure they report to their commander every partition. Should they fail to locate the missing men within ten days, see to it that their families receive due compensation.¡± ¡°Of course, My Lord. And what measures do you wish to take in regard to this in the long term?¡± ¡°For now, nothing drastic,¡± I replied after a moment¡¯s consideration. ¡°Once I have addressed the more pressing matters, I shall see to this personally. In the interim, augment the border patrols to five men and ensure they maintain vigilance at all times. From now hence, they are to report at every Tower along their route¡ªI know this has been neglected of late. Regardless of the Faithless¡¯ intent, we cannot afford to lose more men.¡± I did not believe the missing patrols were a harbinger of an impending invasion, yet even so, the Border Towers alone could halt, or at least delay, an army a thousand strong for days. Still, an added measure of caution was warranted. ¡°Furthermore, ensure all Border Towers are at heightened battle readiness, maintaining constant vigilance.¡± ¡°It will be done, My Lord.¡± For now, that would have to suffice until my return from Westgate. The sooner I extricated Arin from his troubles, the sooner I could address the Faithless¡ªor whatever else lay behind the missing patrols. The Wastes and their inhabitants have always been treacherous, but if these rumors held any truth¡ªif they were more than mere old legends spun into campfire tales¡ªthen it could herald grave troubles for the Realm in the times to come. And that was not a matter I could afford to ignore. With that, my decision was made. ¡°Daaris, compile a list of all pressing matters that require my attention. I expect to see it within a half-partition.¡± ¡°My Lord?¡± His voice carried a note of concern. ¡°I must depart for Westgate, and soon,¡± I stated. Arin had warned me not to trust anyone, but if there was one person absolutely loyal to the Vorat Family, it was my s¡¯uldin. ¡°So sudden a departure?¡± Daaris¡¯s expression soured. ¡°Unfortunately, yes. I shall have a comm-disc with me in the event of any urgent matters. Westgate is near enough that I can return swiftly, should the need arise.¡± I emphasized my next words: ¡°Ensure word of my departure does not spread, Daaris¡ªat least not immediately.¡± ¡°Am I to understand that you intend to travel without your usual retinue?¡± This was the prelude to a familiar, heated discourse I had no intention of engaging in at present. ¡°Indeed,¡± I replied, raising my voice to forestall the protest forming on his lips. ¡°And we shall not quarrel over this, Daaris!¡± He pressed his lips together, fixing me with a long, disapproving gaze. Fortunately, Daaris knew when to press a point and when it was wiser to retreat, even if only for the moment. ¡°Sustaining such a deception for more than a day or two shall prove difficult, My Lord,¡± he said, clearly displeased. ¡°If only you had informed me a day earlier¡ª¡± I cut him off with a shake of my head. ¡°Then devise a plausible pretext for my departure. A hunt in the northern Amalay outskirts, perhaps¡­ or an inspection of the Border Towers after the recent incidents. Yes, that should suffice.¡± ¡°As you command, My Lord.¡± My s¡¯uldin offered a small bow, disapproval practically radiating from him. ¡°If there is naught further, I shall begin preparing the list you requested.¡± I gave a nod, dismissing him, and waited until the door clicked shut before returning the codebook to the vault. Ra¡¯maen¡¯s orb awaited me there¡ªan ordeal I could no longer postpone. The issue was, I had no idea how to face it. Suppressing a tempest of emotions I had no desire to name, I drew the leather pouch from the vault and emptied its contents into my palm. The spark at the orb¡¯s core flared¡ªan ominous flicker before it softened into a familiar, almost eager pulse. As if it recognized me. Its power was but a shadow of what I remembered, yet even this faint trace was enough to set my skin tingling. The or¡¯dain¡¯s awakening to this extent could mean only one thing. She, too, was beginning to stir. ¡°Why now, of all times?¡± I murmured bitterly, not realizing I had spoken aloud. ¡°Why not five decades or a century hence? Why can¡¯t you leave me in peace, may Morit¨¢n take you! Why can¡¯t you simply remain dead?¡± I nearly shouted the last words, my voice raw. The spark within the orb recoiled, shrinking as if chastised¡ªlike a loyal hound bewildered by its master¡¯s sudden ire. The or¡¯dain, of course, bore no fault in this. It was merely a severed fragment of Ra¡¯maen¡¯s soul, bound by magic, with no more awareness than that of a common guard dog. I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to think clearly. Calm. Focus. Releasing the orb, I allowed it to hover a few centimeters above the surface of my desk. Its faint glow flickered, but it remained weak. How much time remained? Six months, if I was fortunate. Less than a month, if my worst fears proved true. I could not be certain. Not without seeing the body. Running a weary hand over my face, I steeled myself. The confrontation I had spent a decade evading was now inevitable. And I knew all too well that the longer I delayed, the harder it would be to descend to that place. The crypt below the castle¡ªher eternal prison¡ªbeckoned. With that, I seized the or¡¯dain and rose from my chair, determined to settle the matter once and for all.
Chapter 1.3 - Dark Secret 8th of Yumtal The Vorat Family crypt lay deep within the castle¡¯s rocky foundation, where the weight of two thousand years of history pressed upon the air like an unseen force. Its vast corridors and towering arches, though carved with the same precision and spaciousness as the halls of the living above, carried an ominous stillness¡ªas if the very stones bore witness to long-buried secrets. Each step deeper underground amplified the near-palpable sensation of millions of tons of rock looming above, accompanied by a creeping chill that settled unbidden into my bones. As I hurried down the well-lit central corridor, the golden masks of my ancestors gazed indifferently from their alcoves, silent reminders that¡ªsooner or later¡ªI too would join them in their eternal vigil. My footsteps echoed faintly into the darker, adjoining chambers, reverberating through unseen spaces beyond the arches and ramps. Had I not known this place so intimately, I might have suspected I was not alone. The scent of ancient dust, incense ash, and grave mold intertwined with the fading aroma of wilting soulweed, clinging stubbornly to the air despite the servants¡¯ tireless efforts to keep the crypt clean and well-ventilated. On either side of me, the endless reliefs told a story centuries in the making¡ªintricate carvings immortalizing long-dead lords and ladies, each frozen in a scene of bygone glory, stretching back to the founding days of the old Vorat kingdom. Their sarcophagi, nestled seamlessly between them, blended so well into the stone that they almost disappeared into the surrounding artistry. The soft glow of lumin-crystals bathed their frozen faces in an ethereal light, though it no longer stirred in me the same reverence as it once had. As a boy, I had roamed these halls countless times, memorizing the engravings like a beloved yet long-tiresome book. After nearly five hundred steps, the corridor terminated at a solid stone wall. Unlike the rest of the crypt, this engraving had been commissioned by my own hand nearly a decade past. Its relief depicted a kneeling man¡ªhis clothes tattered, his hair disheveled¡ªwhile a scarlet-robed figure loomed above him, inscrutable, as if silently passing judgment. The setting was a forest clearing, a weathered stone altar visible in the background. Compared to the grim reality that had inspired its creation, the carved scene now seemed almost innocent, especially in light of the nightmare that had haunted me the night before. Yet it was far more than a mere fragment of memory etched in stone. I let out a sharp breath, only then realizing I had been holding it. My fingers hesitated as they reached for the small hemisphere above the altar¡ªthe or¡¯dain. Unlike the other reliefs, this detail was inverted, creating a deliberate recess in the stone. It was the gateway to one of my darkest secrets. And the sole key lay in my hand. Whether I was truly prepared to use it, however, was another matter entirely. ¡°Compose yourself!¡± I growled, the command meant as much to shatter the oppressive silence as to steady my own nerves. Even so, it demanded considerable effort to complete the motion and seat the or¡¯dain within its recess. A barely audible click signaled that the orb had settled into place. At once, the spark at its core flared¡ªswelling into a miniature scarlet star, its brilliance too blinding to behold. The relief carved into the stone stirred. For the span of a heartbeat, the sculpted branches swayed as though caught in an unseen wind. A chill, sharp as a midnight breeze, seeped through from beyond the wall. Then, the image dissolved, its colors twisting into a swirling vortex before peeling away to reveal the entrance to Ra¡¯maen¡¯s secret tomb. Beyond it, naught but cold darkness awaited. For an instant, my mind conjured an image of what I might find within: a mummified female form, bearing unnatural, grotesque signs of regeneration. I shook my head sharply, dispelling the unwelcome vision before stepping over the threshold. My voice rang firm against the silence: ¡°Zarrianu (Light).¡± At once, three lumin-crystals flared to life, their glow pushing back the shadows to reveal a circular chamber¡ªbare stone walls rising into a high, domed ceiling. At its center, frozen in eternity, lay a massive, intricately carved obsidian slab. And atop it rested something far more disturbing than I had ever dared imagine. ¡°By Kalit¡¯s final mercy¡­¡± I whispered, yet in the chamber¡¯s emptiness, the words echoed like a thunderclap. The naked form atop the Tot-black stone greeted me with the same unspoiled beauty that had seared itself into my memory when the tomb was first sealed. Even from a distance, the familiar, alluring scent of her skin filled my senses¡ªdrawing me forward despite myself. Ra¡¯maen lay in a semblance of tranquil repose, as though merely ensnared in a deep and undisturbed slumber. Only the unnatural stillness of her chest betrayed the truth¡ªthis was no mortal rest. This was a slumber from which no ordinary being could ever hope to awaken. And yet, in the past¡­ she had. Resting upon her smooth abdomen, like a venomous serpent lying in wait, was the dagger with which I had taken her life¡­ that final time. Years ago, I had come to understand that the woman¡ªno, the being¡ªlying before me was anything but mortal. Only now did I fully grasp how gravely I had underestimated her power. Despite all the precautions I had taken, her revival was nearly complete¡ªdecades ahead of what should have been possible. Woven deep into the obsidian slab were eleven potent spells, designed to hinder¡ªor, at the very least, delay¡ªthe regeneration of her body. This was ancient magic, tracing its origins to the Age of Lir¡¯Anarand¡ªits knowledge shattered, fragmented, and scattered across the Enlightened Realms. I had expended immense effort and significant resources to secure the necessary texts, even organizing a long and perilous expedition into the Wastes to plunder the ruins of an ancient branch of the Academy of Magic. Three precious tomes had been recovered from that expedition alone, completing the fragments of the lost knowledge. Reconstructing the necessary spells from the myriad of disparate sources had consumed more than a year. And now, as I stood before her once more, I was certain of one thing. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. It had not been enough. Even as the tomb was being constructed, I had known¡ªdeep down¡ªthat Ra¡¯maen¡¯s power could not be confined to Kalit¡¯s Domain forever. Yet until tonight, I had truly believed I would not live to witness her return. ¡°Ra¡¯maen?¡± My voice barely stirred the silence. I doubted she was truly present¡ªnot yet. Still, I could not begin examining the body without being certain. Receiving no response, I stepped closer. The featureless white mask, silent and unyielding, remained as unsettling as ever. I knew what lay beneath. And I dared not lift it. Some things were better left to time-blurred memory. Besides, what I sought lay elsewhere. Her skin was ice-cold yet not stiff. The unnatural softness beneath my touch was neither that of the living nor the dead. A sensation all its own¡ªsomething between flesh and memory. My unsteady hand traced along the familiar curve of her arm, and for the briefest instant, a wave of recollections threatened to resurface. Some, disturbingly enough, were even pleasant. Mercilessly, I forced them down. Buried them with all the rest. My fingers carefully examined her body, seeking the wound that had ended her life. Yet all I found in its stead was a fresh, pink scar. I sighed, realizing that once again I was forced onto a singular path. ¡°Forgive me, Ra¡¯maen, but this is the only way¡­¡± My whisper barely touched the chamber walls before I gripped the dagger¡¯s hilt and drove it straight into her heart. The wail that followed never touched the air. It rang only within my mind¡ªa shattering, soul-rending scream that blurred the line between perception and reality. Agony lanced through my skull as an unbearable surge of power threatened to fracture it from within. I staggered back, my vision swallowed by darkness. Warm droplets slipped from my ears, trailing down my neck. Another stream touched my upper lip and entered my mouth, its taste thick and metallic. Blood. And a lot of it. It took minutes¡ªlong, suffocating minutes¡ªbefore the red haze lifted from my eyes and the dizziness receded. Ra¡¯maen remained motionless. The dagger¡¯s hilt still jutted from the base of her breast, but a single crimson stream had begun to trickle down her left side, pooling beneath her motionless form. ¡°By Azur¡­¡± I gasped, my breath ragged. This outcome was unforeseen. Her awakening was far closer¡ªfar more imminent¡ªthan I had feared. In my desperation, piercing her heart had been the only course left to me. The only means to slow what was already in motion. But even now, even in death, the regeneration had not ceased. Bit by bit, her flesh was already beginning to reject the blade, pushing it outward¡ªslowly, inexorably sealing the wound once more. Even in death, Ra¡¯maen would not suffer such an offense twice. Yet, perhaps¡­ I had secured myself the fragile reprieve of a few more precious months. ¡°Rest well, my dear,¡± I murmured, a semblance of relief washing over me as I staggered from the tomb. The swirling mist returned, conjuring painfully familiar images at the entrance. But before they could fully take shape, the robed silhouette suddenly turned its head toward me. I froze as her crimson gaze burned through me. No¡­ this cannot be. ¡°Liadar¡¯min Kael (Kael, my beloved),¡± her whisper slithered through the air, cold as the grave. Ra¡¯maen¡¯s figure shifted, as though about to step beyond the limits of her unreal existence. Behind her, the or¡¯dain emerged at last, pulsing with a terrible light¡ªbrighter than ever. My breath hitched and instinct took over. My hand lunged for the small crystal orb, which now seemed to hover at the far end of the clearing. I yanked it back with all my strength. The expected resistance never came. The or¡¯dain slid free with a familiar click, sealing the lock for good. The force of the pull sent me stumbling. Two unsteady steps, then my legs buckled and I collapsed onto the stone floor. For a few moments, the or¡¯dain still shone between my clenched fingers¡ªthen, gradually, its light faded. The engraving on the wall stilled, returning to an unmoving piece of the crypt¡¯s decor. Silent. Motionless. Unthreatening. Well, I thought grimly. That was indeed¡­ unforeseen. Lifting a hand to my ear, I absently brushed my fingertips over it¡ªthen frowned at the sticky warmth. I wiped at the drying blood on my mouth and neck, using the sleeve of my robe, though the silk was ill-suited for the task. The effort proved futile. A sobering realization settled over me. Had I delayed this visit even a day longer, the backlash would have surpassed my limits. If not for Arin¡¯s letter forcing me to check the vault, I would have faced a far graver problem within days. Ra¡¯maen. I held no illusions. Our twisted dance would be no different this time. How does one restrain a kar¡¯dagora wielding the power of an Archmage¡ªyet wholly unburdened by morality? ¡°A fool¡¯s hope,¡± I muttered, pushing myself upright with a weary groan. Death¡ªeither hers or mine¡ªhad ever been the sole outcome from our relentless contest, yet in her case even that had proven only a temporary reprieve. Ra¡¯maen¡­ she treated her own demise as a mere annoyance, an inconvenience to be corrected rather than an end to be feared. And despite her volatile nature, she was nothing if not cunning. Ever since our first ill-fated meeting, all these years ago, I had managed to end her life only thrice. And the second time I made the mistake of consigning her remains to flame. The consequences were disastrous. It took months to unravel which of my closest companions she had claimed as her new vessel. Ra¡¯maen treated our deadly chase as some wicked game. Worse¡ªshe reveled in it. I could never discern whether her intentions towards me included seduction or murder¡­ or even both. And in each encounter, her methods became more inventive. Unlike her, I could not afford a single misstep. Unlike her, I was bound by mortality. I doubted Ra¡¯maen had ever truly grasped that fundamental truth. And now¡­ Now, my efforts to hinder her regeneration had proven insufficient. They had bought a mere decade of peace. For myself. And for the world.
Chapter 1.4 - Departure onto Road Unknown 8th of Yumtal ¡°A matter for another time,¡± I declared to the empty corridor, steadying myself as I made my way back to the study. The few servants I passed regarded me with barely concealed concern. A maid, mid-step, faltered at the sight of me, whispering hurriedly to her companion before both made a deep curtsy. Two pairs of wide, fearful eyes darted over my bloodstained face and robe. Another lowered her gaze, feigning disinterest, though the nervous writhing of her hands betrayed her unease. None, however, dared to question why their lord was covered in blood. Still, the whispers would weave their way through the castle halls, heedless of my indifference, adding new strokes to the wild tapestry of my growing legacy. Sometimes I couldn¡¯t help but wonder what unbelievable stories my successors would tell about me once I was long gone from this world. Unfortunately, Daaris was not so easily dissuaded. ¡°My Lord Vorat! What, by Azur¡¯s name, has befallen you?¡± He was already waiting in the study when I arrived. Unlike the majority of my house staff, Daaris was among the rare few who could afford to disregard my potential ire without consequence. I offered him a sidelong glance, choosing to respond with a question instead. ¡°Is the list I requested prepared, Daaris?¡± My s¡¯uldin had served me for long enough to allow nothing to disturb his professional demeanor. ¡°Of course, My Lord,¡± he replied smoothly. ¡°Shall we review the details forthwith, or would you prefer to defer them until a later time?¡± The unspoken query hung between us¡ªwas I in any condition to address the matters at hand? I was tempted to postpone everything in favor of a long bath. A very long bath. But instead, I settled at my desk, waving a hand for him to commence. ¡°There are, in truth, but a few matters of pressing concern,¡± Daaris began, adjusting his small, round reading glasses upon his nose. ¡°The reconstruction of the northern wall has proven more problematic than anticipated. The engineering team has discovered fissures in the rock beneath the foundation. If left unattended, they may¡ªover time¡ªcompromise the castle¡¯s stability. To proceed as planned, we would require the services of a Mage, My Lord. It will be expensive, however.¡± ¡°Always the same with the Academy, is it not, Daaris?¡± I sighed, tapping my fingers against the desk. ¡°What sum do they demand this time?¡± ¡°The most advantageous offer I could secure on such short notice was three thousand two hundred gold anarandi,¡± Daaris looked up from the list, meeting my gaze. ¡°That includes welding all fissures and reinforcing every weak point within the castle¡¯s foundation¡ªnot merely beneath the northern wall.¡± I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand over my face¡ªonly to further smear half-dried blood across my skin. My irritation only deepened. The Academy¡¯s extortion was nothing new, but their shameless avarice had only worsened in recent years. Three thousand anarandi was roughly the monthly wages of a thousand elite soldiers¡ªif not more. And for what? The mere act of melting a few stones together? ¡°Two thousand, and not a bronze oner more! I also expect the complete welding of the rock to the entirety of the wall¡¯s foundation encompassed within that sum,¡± I declared, prompting an approving nod from Daaris. ¡°In the event that they resist our offer, remind them we can seek qualified services elsewhere.¡± ¡°I shall ensure they accept your terms, My Lord.¡± His voice held such conviction that I almost pitied the Academy¡¯s representative. Almost. ¡°The next matter concerns the reception we are hosting in mid-Sepait. Do you foresee any alterations?¡± As Count of Amalay, one of my duties was to safeguard the well-being of my people¡ªboth common folk and nobility alike. While overseeing the former was straightforward in times of peace and prosperity, the latter demanded far more effort, tact, and resources. To that end, I had resolved to host monthly receptions, extending invitations to all noble Families within my jurisdiction, as well as distinguished guests from beyond Amalay. These gatherings served multiple purposes. They allowed me to assess the broader political landscape, to observe and cultivate alliances, and to remind every attending noble exactly who ruled Amalay¡ªsecond only to the Archduke of Kiriador. This particular reception, however, was of far greater significance. Their Blessed Majesties, Lazaris and Ka¡¯rna Raniat, were expected as guests of honor during their customary tour of Kiriador. I understood Daaris¡¯s concern, especially in light of my unplanned departure. I had yet to determine how long resolving Arin¡¯s affairs would take, but I fully intended to return to D¡¯al Vorat by month¡¯s end even if I had to drag him back with me. ¡°No,¡± I replied after a moment¡¯s consideration. ¡°Proceed as previously outlined.¡± ¡°As you wish.¡± Daaris looked up from his papers, his sharp gaze meeting mine over the rim of his glasses. ¡°There is still the unresolved matter of Arlin Bael. The Tribunal continues to insist you assume the role of Adjudicator for the upcoming trial.¡± Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°By the Overlords, those insufferable relics!¡± Frustration surged through me, and I threw my hands up. ¡°How many times must I refuse before they comprehend my meaning? Bael is guilty beyond question. The current Adjudicator is more than capable of rendering a fitting sentence!¡± Daaris merely shrugged. ¡°I doubt you will be able to avoid it, My Lord.¡± His tone lacked any sympathy. Daaris had never approved of my attempts to evade these duties¡ªor any others, for that matter. ¡°Sooner or later, they will involve the Archduke, and once that occurs, you will have no choice but to comply.¡± ¡°There is always a choice,¡± I muttered, rubbing a weary hand across my eyes. Daaris arched a brow. ¡°Indeed, a prudent choice, My Lord.¡± I grunted in response, knowing that Daaris was right. Arlin Bael had kidnapped and violated the daughter of a minor noble from D¡¯al Vorat, then had the audacity to demand a ransom of five hundred gold anarandi for her safe return. My guards had apprehended him within days, conducting a parallel investigation alongside ransom negotiations. His guilt was indisputable, and the Tribunal was more than capable of passing judgment¡ªyet outdated tradition demanded otherwise. As the victims were nobles under my protection, I, as Count, bore the honor and duty of passing sentence. The issue lay in that such trials were long, tedious affairs. As Adjudicator, I would be required to hear all testimonies, account the findings to the Tribunal, render judgment, and oversee the sentence¡¯s execution¡ªa process that would steal several valuable days from my already thinning patience. And with problems mounting upon each other like eager gurrki, I had neither time nor tolerance for such empty formalities. ¡°The longer you delay, the longer Bael enjoys his existence¡ªeven if confined to a cell,¡± Daaris remarked, ever my moral compass. ¡°And with the Tribunal naming you as the responsible authority, Lord Narudin will soon question why you hesitate to dispense justice upon his daughter¡¯s abductor.¡± In moments such as these, I truly loathed my s¡¯uldin¡ªprimarily because he was unwaveringly, undeniably correct. In truth, I had no real recourse unless I wished to deliberately tarnish my reputation or forfeit the support of a noble Family¡ªminor as it may be. ¡°Very well,¡± I sighed, resigned to the inevitable. ¡°Inform the Tribunal that I shall attend to the matter. However, the trial will occur in mid-Sepait, following the reception, and not a moment sooner. Until then, Bael¡¯s rations shall be reduced¡ªa bowl of water daily, a piece of bread every other day. Ensure Lord Narudin is made aware of this.¡± ¡°It will be done, My Lord.¡± Daaris¡¯s expression left no doubt that he fully approved of my decision. He hesitated briefly, his gaze lingering on my blood-smeared face before demonstratively folding the list. ¡°In fact, I can handle the remainder myself. Do you have any specific instructions for the period of your absence?¡± ¡°No, Daaris, merely ensure that all matters proceed without complication.¡± ¡°Certainly, My Lord. When do you intend to depart?¡± ¡°Within the partition.¡± He nodded, unsurprised. ¡°See that I am provisioned for three days, and have Tarun prepared forthwith.¡± Daaris bowed and departed. I exhaled slowly, turning my thoughts to the journey ahead. Westgate lay three days¡¯ ride from D¡¯al Vorat, and for the most part, the road was secure. But this time, the true perils awaited me at my destination¡ªand they were of a decidedly different nature. Armor, whether for myself or Tarun, would only encumber us, placing an unnecessary strain on him. Sturdy travel clothes and only the most essential personal effects would suffice¡ªanything more would be dead weight. Whatever else I might require, I could procure in Westgate. As for weapons, I needed nothing heavy nor cumbersome. After some deliberation, I chose Aur¡¯Dor and Aur¡¯Sol¡ªthe exquisite pair of swords my brother had gifted me three years hence. For a long time, Arin had insisted I required more refined weaponry, believing I had grown too attached to my functional yet cumbersome battle axe. When he realized I would not part with it on my own, he had decided to surprise me by commissioning a special order from the renowned swordsmith Badaran Laor. The result had been a masterpiece. The swords were crafted with exceptional care, devoid of superfluous ornamentation, yet elegant in their simplicity. The delicate, interwoven motifs upon their steel bespoke without a doubt their true worth. And since they had been forged specifically for me, each bore my personal variation of the Family crest¡ªa golden spear and two upturned horns upon a white disk, embossed with the relief of Castle Vorat. I still recalled the childlike excitement on Arin¡¯s face as I unwrapped the gift, his unrestrained joy unmistakable. Considering all factors, the choice of weapons felt¡­ right. Next, I withdrew the larger of the two leather wallets from my desk drawer. It was well-suited for travel and built for discretion, providing ample space as well as a hidden compartment. From the vault, I retrieved the casket of anarandi and secreted fifty gold coins into the wallet for the journey. Given the uncertainty surrounding Arin¡¯s predicament, I could not foresee how much additional funding I might need once I arrived in Westgate. The Bankers¡¯ Guild would cover for any amount, however, their services were slow and expensive. Therefore, after some thought, I also added a few high-value debt notes from the Trade Consortium in the County of Maey. My personal comm-disc followed suit¡ªshould Daaris need to contact me in case of emergency. Then, at last, I picked up the pouch containing the or¡¯dain. As I slid it into the wallet, its weight felt¡­ deliberate. As though it resented leaving the tomb behind. Keeping it close to me was the prudent thing to do. Yet it brought little comfort. I required naught else. Tucking the wallet beneath my arm, I departed the study and made my way to my chambers. My ears still rang occasionally as a reminder of Ra¡¯maen¡¯s backlash. A dull headache had seemingly taken root behind my brow, and my skin still reeked of dried blood. A cold bath would remedy that. Though I doubted it would do anything to alleviate my worries about the challenges ahead. The tranquility of yesterday was gone. And there was no returning to it. Not anymore.
Chapter 1.5 - Kiyar’s Breasts 8th of Yumtal As the second partition waned, I guided Tarun through the smallest northern gate of D¡¯al Vorat¡ªthe path leading toward the Border. Clad in my usual travel attire, I wore a comfortable cloak emblazoned with the Vorat Family crest. The townsfolk and those dwelling in the surrounding areas knew both myself and Tarun too well for an unnoticed departure at this time of day. Indeed, I was met with a chorus of greetings and countless raised hands as I rode through the town and suburbs. I acknowledged them with nods and fleeting smiles, yet I did not linger. One of my travel bags held a more inconspicuous set of clothes, which I planned to don at the earliest opportunity. The second contained dried rations, my wallet, and various small necessities. The metal buckles of the bags clinked rhythmically against the leather with each of Tarun¡¯s movements, though their weight¡ªcombined with mine¡ªwas no burden for his powerful frame. Aur¡¯Dor, the longer of my twin blades, and Aur¡¯Sol, its shorter counterpart, rested sheathed across my back, their hilts angled for a swift draw. A final glance over my shoulder did little to dispel the weight of guilt pressing upon me. It was as though I were forsaking my duties for some self-indulgent venture rather than attending to a matter of true necessity. My people required their ruler and protector, and even in these peaceful times, there was no shortage of matters demanding my attention. And yet, I too needed a reprieve. How many years had passed since my last expedition into the Wastes? Ten? No, closer to twelve. Far too long for any soul to remain confined to a single place. A few days away from D¡¯al Vorat, free from the burden of daily ceremony, would be beneficial. Yet, the deep sense of responsibility binding me to those I had sworn to protect refused to loosen its grip. Once I had put sufficient distance between myself and the city, I paused within a secluded grove beside the road to adjust my attire. The unassuming garments and hooded cloak would obscure my identity¡ªat least from a distance. For Tarun, I draped a broad cloth over his head and neck, fashioning a makeshift hood. A rudimentary disguise, but there was little more I could do to conceal his unique profile. Thankfully, few outsiders would associate the horse before the rider. Emerging from the grove, I turned westward, cutting across the fields of nearby farms and following the wagon roads until I reached the Western Trade Road¡ªthe most convenient route from the northern part of the Realm to the County of Maey and its administrative center. Officially, the city¡¯s name, according to the Realm¡¯s charter, was D¡¯al Barair, yet to the people of Kiriador, it was simply Westgate. The name came from the elegant, twenty-meter-high archway marking the gateway across the border with Valdara. The road I traveled cut through the larger of two passes within the Doros¡¯akatar Mountains¡ªa massive, jagged spine cleaving Kiriador in two. There was no other convenient route to the west unless one ventured southward to cross the smaller pass near Shan¡¯hatar Monastery, then descended into the southern plains via the Silver Mines. Thus, all trade and travel between the northern and western counties funneled through this one passage¡ªa passage whose true name had faded into obscurity generations ago. Now, even cartographers simply called it Kiyar¡¯s Breasts. The reason for this name was the peculiar, rounded shape of the two mountain peaks framing the pass. I often wondered what the Mistress herself would have thought had she still walked Anarand. The Chronicles depicted Kiyar as a woman of cheerful spirit, one who embraced life in all its aspects. Perhaps she would have laughed at the jest? Or perhaps, like the mountains bearing her name, she would have merely endured it¡ªunmoving and eternal. Even in the colder months, the Western Trade Road remained busy. As the Trade Season approached, it teemed with caravans, freight wagons, and riders, providing me with the perfect opportunity to merge with the flow¡ªto become just another traveler among many. Above us all, indifferent to mortal concerns, Niatema hung her smiling white face low over the world, followed faithfully by sullen Kalys, whose bright red circle grew larger with each passing day. Anarand¡¯aris¡¯ second sun had yet to reach its closest proximity, but a light, steady breeze rendered the air cool and pleasant for extended riding. By next month, the weather would change drastically. I covered the first ten kilometers at a steady pace, allowing Tarun a controlled trot. Only when the hill upon which D¡¯al Vorat sat faded into the distance did I permit him to quicken to his natural speed. For now, I pushed all thoughts of Ra¡¯maen, Arin, and the purpose of my journey from my mind. There would be time enough for such concerns later. Instead, I let myself revel in the wind against my face, the graceful rhythm of Tarun¡¯s gallop, and the steady drum of his hooves against the road. In moments such as these, the accumulated weight of my responsibilities¡ªthough temporarily¡ªlifted from my shoulders. I was reminded that life still held its pleasures, a fact I often forgot amidst the ceaseless demands of ruling Kiriador¡¯s northernmost county and guarding the Border with the Wastes¡ªand, by extension, the Faithless Lands. As evening approached, I found myself several kilometers west of Raet, the last major settlement within Amalay¡¯s borders in this direction. I had now entered the relatively small district of Hanarat, which stretched toward the mountains in the west and southwest but, unlike Vorat, did not border the Wastes. With no roadside inn nearby, I resolved to make camp just off the road at the foot of a small hill. Most nobles of my station would have halted in the town, selecting the finest inn for the night. Others might have sought the hospitality of the local lord and his household, yet I had no desire to engage in pleasantries with the overly talkative Lord Hessret. For the sake of anonymity¡ªand a few extra kilometers toward my destination¡ªI preferred to forgo such comforts. Besides, it had been far too long since I last slept beneath the open sky, a notion I had not imagined I would come to yearn for. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. During the expeditions of our youth, Arin and I had spent countless nights in the wild, often in places far from safe. We devised an efficient system of alternating shifts, allowing each of us to rest for three or four partitions without interruption. Typically, we switched around the twelfth partition, ensuring fairness. Yet, Arin¡ªwho had always despised waking early, let alone in the dead of night¡ªwas invariably irritable on the days when he took the second shift. He believed I remained oblivious, but it was difficult to ignore his sullen expression and terse remarks that lasted well into the following day. More often than not, I let him have the first watch, claiming exhaustion as a pretext. I doubt he ever realized the deception was for his sake alone. After all, I wasn¡¯t particularly fond of being roused in the middle of the night either. Ah, those were wild and wonderful years. And I missed them dearly. At dawn, under the watchful gaze of Kalys, I resumed my journey, resolved to reach the pass¡¯s entrance by evening. Along the way, I passed several small caravans¡ªtwo or three freight wagons at most¡ªtraveling in either direction. Most employed their own guards, despite the entire road falling under the Trade Consortium¡¯s protection. Its armed patrols traversed the route every few partitions, but merchants were, by nature, a wary breed. It was no surprise that they placed little trust even in their own organization. Solitary travelers such as myself were rare, and fewer still traveled at my pace. Then again, none possessed a horse like Tarun. On journeys such as this, my steed could effortlessly maintain a trot at nearly twenty kilometers per partition, requiring only three brief rests throughout the day. And at a light to full gallop, he fully lived up to his name¡ªreaching speeds between forty and sixty kilometers per partition. I could say with confidence that few horses in Kiriador¡ªperhaps even in all of Anarand¡ªcould rival him. Tarun¡¯s sire hailed from a semi-feral herd belonging to one of the more reasonable Faithless tribes¡ªone with whom I had maintained tense yet profitable dealings many years past, during my prolonged travels in the Wastes. The stallion was a magnificent creature and a priceless gift. Yet, despite my best efforts, he allowed neither myself nor anyone else to ride him. Eventually, I relented, granting him freedom to return to his homeland. Not, however, before securing his legacy. Before releasing him, I had him bred with three of my finest mares. Of the foals sired, only one¡ªa young stallion¡ªproved both male and resilient enough to be trained as a warhorse. He inherited his sire¡¯s strength, speed, and endurance. Yet, his unique dark gray coat, shifting in hue like the finest velvet, came solely from his dam. Tarun bore the same two black horns as his sire¡ªnow hidden beneath his makeshift hood¡ªcurving forward along his forehead and muzzle, extending nearly thirty centimeters with the passing years. His temperament, however, was wholly his own. From the very outset, he had decided that he would submit to but one master. My trainers had torn their hair out in frustration each time they attempted to teach him something new. At four years of age, he lagged behind others of his generation in formal training. But what he lacked in discipline, he made up for in instinct. Once beyond the stable grounds, Tarun transformed. Riding him was akin to racing upon my own personal wind, responding to every command with flawless precision¡ªso long as I maintained firm control. For if I relented¡­ that wind would become an unstoppable storm. As the day wore on and the heat intensified, the traffic on the road began to thin. More often than not, entire segments passed before I encountered another soul. Ahead, the distant massif of Doros¡¯akatar, which had loomed on the horizon all morning, now ascended before me like an impenetrable wall of steep slopes and jagged peaks rising ever higher. For a time, the road ran parallel to the mountain, weaving alongside its foothills rather than visibly approaching it. Then, as the narrow valley leading to the pass unfolded before me, the course shifted once more. At this point, the foothills of Doros¡¯akatar changed¡ªtheir slopes softening, curving inward to form a vast semicircle that stretched nearly forty kilometers before reuniting at the threshold of Kiyar¡¯s Breasts. The sparse groves that had begun at the outskirts of Raet had thickened gradually as I rode deeper into the valley, and now the road wound through a dense forest of towering trees. Beneath their sprawling branches, the intertwined light-rays of the twin suns scarcely touched the forest floor. Amidst the damp, decaying leaves, mushrooms clustered like silent sentinels, thriving in the perpetual gloom. Though the incline steadily increased, the road itself remained flat and well-maintained, making for an easy, effortless ride. As the seventh partition neared, the twin peaks of Kiyar¡¯s Breasts loomed above the treetops, stark and imposing against the azure sky. The low clouds had been swept aside by the mountain winds, leaving their snow-capped, time-worn crowns gleaming in the last light of day. Only three segments remained before Niatema fully withered. Tarun could endure more, but I saw no reason to push him further. Slowing him to a gentle trot, I began scanning for a suitable campsite¡ªpreferably a secluded clearing, set back from the road. The last settlement before the pass, Kazera, had slipped past some kilometers back. I had no intention of stopping there for the night, despite it being the customary resting place for travelers on this route. A few more kilometers gained today would spare me the burden of recovering them on the morrow. Before I knew it, the encroaching shadows had taken on a ruddy hue¡ªsilent heralds of the swiftly advancing Blood Dusk. Somewhere nearby, the shrill cry of a raptor split the stillness, sending a prickle of foreboding up my spine, like the legs of a creeping spider. Then, the whistle of an arrow cut through the darkening forest. By pure reflex, I ducked, even though it was too late. The projectile struck with brutal precision. Yet, I was not its target. Tarun screamed. A sound unlike any I had ever heard from him¡ªa raw, agonized wail that tore through my chest like a blade. His forelegs buckled beneath him. I barely had time to register my rising fury before his powerful body collapsed. The force flung me forward like a discarded doll. The world spun. Then the stone paving rushed up to meet me. Pain exploded in my skull. My vision fractured, turning to hazy fragments of light and shadow. Through the blur, I caught a final, harrowing sight¡ªTarun¡¯s crumpled form, broken amidst pooling blood. Then, the darkness took me.
Chapter 1.6 - Shadows in the Night 9th of Yumtal I awoke face down on cold, uneven rock, my body aching from head to toe. The first sensation that struck me was the blinding light. The second¡ªfar worse¡ªwas the searing pain splitting my skull. I attempted to raise a hand to my forehead. Only then did I realize my limbs were bound. By Morit¨¢n¡¯s ruin¡­ what now? Gritting my teeth, I lifted my head just enough to take stock of my surroundings. A small cave, barely two meters high. The harsh light, which I had first mistaken for daylight, came from several torches¡ªnot even lumin-crystals¡ªfixed at crude angles along the walls. Thick, choking air filled the chamber, heavy with sluggish coils of smoke that drifted toward an unseen exit, their path hindered by poor ventilation. The stench was worse. A miasma of unwashed bodies, rancid tobacco, and rotting food clung to my throat like a living thing, coating every breath with its foulness. At the far end of the chamber, half a dozen filthy straw mats lay strewn across the floor, surrounded by what might once have been personal belongings¡ªnow little more than refuse. A rough, rasping voice cut through my sluggish thoughts. ¡°Well, well, look who be up! Come on, now, little hare, don¡¯t be shy!¡± Loud laughter erupted around the cave. Before I could react, two massive hands seized my collar and flipped me onto my back¡ªa significant feat, considering my size. Yet, those hands belonged to a hulking brute whose last encounter with a bath had likely been at birth. A scruffy beard, thick with remnants of past meals, concealed much of his face. Two beady, malicious eyes and a squashed, ruddy nose completed his charming visage. The man was massive, his broad shoulders filling my entire field of view. He had to stoop under the low ceiling, yet even hunched, he radiated brute strength. His filthy, ill-fitting clothes had undoubtedly belonged to a smaller, long-dead owner. Over them, he wore a studded leather vest, its once-sturdy straps barely holding together. ¡°Make yerself cozy, hare,¡± he growled, dragging me toward a small firepit, its flames casting flickering shadows across the cave walls. Four more men sat lounging around it, their grins stretched too wide, too sharp¡ªlike starved barrki sniffing fresh prey. Their ragged clothes and decrepit swords discarded nearby marked them for what they were¡ªbandits, cutthroats, vermin. I barely had time to gauge my captors before something cold and sharp pressed against my throat. ¡°Try anythin¡¯ stupid, and I be guttin¡¯ ya like a pig,¡± the brute hissed, his breath thick with rot. ¡°Godit?¡± I offered a slight nod, my head throbbing so fiercely it felt ready to split open. Satisfied, he withdrew the naked blade and announced, flashing a crude grin: ¡°They call me Jackoro ¡®The Gentle¡¯.¡± A chorus of laughter erupted from his men. ¡°Yeah, boss!¡± ¡°Who else?!¡± Jackoro ignored their boisterous approval, his grin stretching wider. ¡°Ya know why? ¡¯Cause I only kill when I be in a good mood.¡± The laughter grew louder. Jackoro settled beside me, his dagger still angled toward my ribs. ¡°Sit tight,¡± he growled. ¡°Might be I let ya live. Might be I don¡¯t.¡± He bared his teeth¡ªyellowed, uneven, more beast than man. Either way, he was enjoying himself. His ultimatum forced my muddled mind to sharpen. After all I had faced in this life, was I truly to meet my end at the hands of common bandits? Where had they even come from? Their crude, guttural speech marked them as northern lowborns, the sort who spent their days scraping out a meager existence in the wild regions adjacent to the Wastes. Cretins, may Morit¨¢n take them all! A mixture of helplessness, anger, and the faintest trace of cynical amusement swirled within me. Perhaps I could intimidate them. I clenched my teeth and growled, low, menacing, and cold. ¡°Pathetic fools. You have no comprehension of what you have entangled yourselves with.¡± For the span of a heartbeat, silence fell over the cave. The flickering torchlight formed mirriad of restless shadows from the silhouettes of the otherwise-stilled men as they exchanged uncertain glances. Then, Jackoro¡¯s meaty paw clamped around my jaw and wrenched my face toward the firelight. ¡°Looks like he be some fancy noble, boss,¡± muttered one of them¡ªa corpulent cretin with two conspicuously missing front teeth. ¡°Was supposed to be a mixling or a merchant, not some lord,¡± another grumbled, his tone laced with unease. ¡°Yeah, yeah, he looks a lot fancier than the others.¡± Jackoro squinted, examining my facial features with narrowed, calculating eyes. ¡°Yer be noble, eh?¡± His grin widened into something nastier. ¡°That means someone be payin¡¯ good coin for yer hide¡­¡± His thick fingers traced the hilt of his dagger. ¡°Or I might be keepin¡¯ it as a trophy instead.¡± He paused, as if weighing his options, then sneered. ¡°What be yer name, lordling?¡± My first instinct¡ªforged through years of wielding supreme authority¡ªwas to declare my identity and threaten him with dire consequences. Jackoro, however, was not the first of his kind I had encountered. A brute like him expected precisely that sort of reaction from an arrogant noble. And even if I managed to unsettle him with the right tone and choice of words, he would never show fear in front of his men. No, Jackoro would lash out, erupting into unchecked violence to reassert his dominance. I swallowed the scathing retort and instead answered with a silent, stony glare. Jackoro guffawed, his laughter coarse and guttural. In his brutish world, he believed he had already claimed an unquestionable victory¡ªboth physical and moral. ¡°D¡¯amnos eat yer tongue, eh, lordling?¡± He emphasized the taunt with a sharp kick to my ribs. Pain lanced through my side. Fighting for breath, I gritted my teeth, baring them like a cornered beast. The bandits snickered, tossing a few less-than-flattering remarks my way. ¡°Boss, let¡¯s just slit his throat,¡± the toothless one suggested impatiently. ¡°Nobles be trouble¡ªain¡¯t worth it!¡± Wretched cur! If only my hands were free¡­ ¡°Nah!¡± another interjected¡ªa skinny, crooked bastard, his limbs gnarled like a dying branch. ¡°Ransom the bastard first, then we slit his throat¡ª¡± He caught himself, glancing sideways at me, and hastily added, ¡°If he don¡¯t behave, that be.¡± Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. The others muttered their agreement. ¡°We be askin¡¯ for trouble, I be tellin¡¯ ya,¡± the toothless one persisted, growing more agitated. ¡°The Tribunal be comin¡¯ down hard on us for somethin¡¯ like this!¡± One of the men began nodding, darting uneasy glances toward the cave¡¯s entrance, as if expecting armed guards to materialize from the shadows. The remaining two exchanged hesitant looks. These curs were mustering the nerve to kill me! A flicker of dread crept in¡ªsharp, foreign, unfamiliar after all these years. It eroded the edges of my resolve. ¡°Shut yer mouths!¡± Jackoro roared. The others fell silent immediately. ¡°I be decidin¡¯ what to do later!¡± While his men bickered, the headman had dragged my travel bags over from somewhere. A wicked gleam flickered in his beady eyes. ¡°Now, let¡¯s see what goodies ya brought us, lordling.¡± He smirked. ¡°We don¡¯t get gifts often, so I be sure to make good use of yers. Godit?¡± The other bandits shifted impatiently, two of them even bursting into nervous laughter. Jackoro wasted no time rifling through my belongings. The food packets were tossed carelessly into a corner, joining a growing pile of stolen provisions. My personal effects¡ªinsignificant in their eyes¡ªwere discarded onto the dirty floor. But then, his hands closed around my wallet. The headsman flipped it open and his eyes lit up. With a triumphant sneer, he turned to his men, holding up its contents for all to see. ¡°Boys, from the looks of it, we be livin¡¯ like nobles ourselves!¡± A roar of approval filled the cave as the bandits cheered, slapping each other on the shoulders. Fear, concerns, hesitation¡ªall was forgotten in the gleam of gold. ¡°Boss, ya got lucky again!¡± The skinny one grinned. ¡°How¡¯d ya know there be so much money?¡± Jackoro puffed his chest, basking in his own brilliance. ¡°It be my job to sniff out such things, godit? How many times I gotta tell ya¡ª¡± I tuned him out. The situation had just taken a lethal turn. With this sum of gold, these bastards could live like lords for months. The need to keep me alive¡ªto ransom me¡ªwas now immaterial. Since their survival hinged on avoiding my future retribution, the smartest course was to kill me now and disappear with the wealth. As soon as they realized this, my fate was sealed. I had to escape. And fast. As my thoughts raced on finding a solution, something shifted in Jackoro¡¯s expression. His brows furrowed, his crude monologue faltering. Slowly, he pulled another object from the wallet¡ªa small leather pouch. He turned it over in his filthy hands, his lip curling in suspicion. A telltale pink light glowed from its partially opened mouth. The or¡¯dain. Sensing my distress, it had awakened. Jackoro hesitated, then untied the strings and poured the crystal orb into his palm. His piggish eyes widened briefly. Then he erupted into a guffaw of disbelief. ¡°Well, well! What do we have here! What be ya, some fortune-tellin¡¯ lordling?¡± This unleashed a wave of merriment among the others, emboldened by their leader¡¯s amusement. Jackoro, ever the fool, twisted his grotesque face into absurd expressions, holding the orb up as though expecting it to grant him visions. The or¡¯dain did not appreciate the mockery. A subtle pulse rippled through the air. The spark at its center swelled¡ªits hue deepening to scarlet. Within moments, the entire orb was glowing fiercely and with vivid intensity. The laughter only grew louder. ¡°Bravo, boss! Looks like ya be a real sorcerer!¡± the skinny one howled. The situation was so absurd, I might have laughed myself. Instead, I looked directly at the or¡¯dain and spoke, soft but firm: ¡°Dao anastani ke¡¯gao (Kill them all).¡± Summoning every last thread of strength, I threw myself sideways, rolling clear of the fire. My body hit the hard floor, belly-down, among the filthy bedding and refuse in the corner of the cave. A heartbeat later the world behind me ignited. I buried my face in the rags, clamping my eyes shut with every shred of willpower I possessed. It still wasn¡¯t enough. The searing light tore through my eyelids. A hot wave slammed into my back, so intense that, for a moment¡ªmy heart ceased to beat. Then¡ªsudden silence. The roar of fire vanished. The howls of laughter were gone. A terrible stillness settled over the chamber. I sucked in a shallow breath¡ªand immediately choked as my lungs filled with scorching, bitter soot. I coughed, violent and ragged. The pain tore at my throat as if stroked by a predator¡¯s claws. It took me a moment to register the muffled groans nearby. At least one of them was still alive then. A moment later, I felt him trip over me, then a heavy weight crashed onto my legs. Immediately, I kicked hard, sending the offender rolling to one side. Forcing myself onto my back, I opened my eyes¡ªonly to be met with a blinding haze of colorful spots and acrid smoke. It stung and scratched, filling them with tears. I blinked rapidly for several moments and when my vision finally cleared, I beheld true carnage. Jackoro¡ªor what remained of him¡ªlay sprawled on his back. His entire front was charred beyond recognition, thick, greasy black smoke still rising from the ruined husk of his body. The rest of the bandits lay scattered in various positions across the chamber. A couple were still groaning feebly, their bodies twisted in agony. They wouldn¡¯t be breathing much longer, however, judging from the severity of their burns. Ra¡¯maen¡¯s or¡¯dain hovered above the headsman¡¯s remains, its scarlet glow fierce and unyielding, casting a sinister light over the destruction it had wrought. I inhaled sharply. ¡°Dao ke¡¯suto (Stop)!¡± At once, the orb¡¯s glow dimmed, shrinking to the faint, delicate shimmer that had greeted me so joyfully just two days prior. I rolled toward the nearest discarded knife, gripping the hilt and sawing through the ropes binding my wrists. My hands ached, stiff from partitions of restraint, but I ignored the discomfort, slicing through the bindings at my ankles as well. The nauseating stench of charred flesh now permeated the confined space. Combined with the billowing smoke and soot, it made breathing nearly impossible. I choked again. With a still trembling hand I found a scrap of discarded cloth, likely a piece of someone¡¯s garment. Pressing it over my mouth and nose, I forced myself to breathe. The stench of sour sweat and something else almost made me gag, but I resisted the urge and kept it on. It helped. Pushing myself to my feet, I took quick stock of my scattered belongings. What little remained was a sorry testament to the or¡¯dain¡¯s power. My spare clothing had been reduced to charred rags. My wallet¡ªscorched on one side¡ªwas still usable, however, its contents blessedly untouched. My second travel bag had barely survived, but I salvaged what I could, stuffing in the three remaining packets of dried food. Near a pile of assorted stolen goods¡ªlikely loot to be fenced in one of the nearby towns, I spotted Aur¡¯Dor and Aur¡¯Sol. I retrieved them swiftly, sheathing them across my back before securing the or¡¯dain into my pocket. Only then did I turn my attention to the living. Of the bandits, only one remained conscious. It turned out to be the toothless one. His breath rattled, each exhale dragging wet and shallow from his burnt, trembling chest. I crouched down, grabbing a fistful of his ruined tunic and jerking him upright. The movement wrenched a hoarse, agonized scream from his cracked lips. His glazed, bloodshot eyes bulged in pain. I ignored it. ¡°Why were you attacking travelers here, in the heart of Amalay?¡± My voice was cold and precise. The bandit grunted something unintelligible, his head lolling back. I shook him roughly. ¡°Answer me, and I shall end your suffering.¡± His breath hitched. His swollen lips parted, letting out a faint rasp: ¡°¡­Fled from the north¡­¡± A faint chill licked its way up my spine. ¡°Fled?¡± I pressed. ¡°Why?¡± His eyes flickered, barely able to focus. ¡°¡­Too dangerous¡­ to stay¡­ Here be¡­ easy prey.¡± ¡°Dangerous? What could possibly be so dangerous up north?¡± His voice faded to a whisper, each syllable forced from failing lungs: ¡°¡­Shadows¡­ in the night¡­¡± Then, his head slumped forward against his chest. I shook him again, hard. Yet, it was useless. The bandit had fallen unconscious and would likely never wake again. After a brief moment of contemplation, I slit his throat with his own knife. A promise was a promise, though the wretch had left me with more questions than answers. His final words gnawed at me as I departed the stinking bandit lair. If there was any truth in them, it compounded the strange occurrences of late. Perhaps something in the Wastes was indeed stirring¡­ But that was a problem I could not address right now. First, I needed to ascertain my location and discover my beloved Tarun¡¯s fate.
Chapter 1.7 - Blood Trail 9th of Yumtal I slipped through the exit¡ªa narrow tunnel carved into the rock face¡ªand gratefully drew in the crisp night air. It was a blissful reprieve from the choking stench of the bandit lair. Outside, the Dark greeted me¡ªvast, palpable, thicker than that of any underground cell. I stood motionless, willing my eyes to pierce the impenetrable black. It was likely near midnight, and until Tot closed, natural light remained a mere whisper in the endless void. Even the glow of the torches at the lair¡¯s entrance had dulled, barely touching the surrounding shadows. A strip of rocky ground lay before me, dotted with stubborn mountain flora. Beyond it¡ªnothing but the suffocating darkness. My eyes would be of little use here. I shut them, and listened instead. Only the wind spoke, its whistle slicing through the silence. Its force hinted at a precariously exposed area. The rock behind me offered partial shelter from its cool bite, but little else. Beneath the lingering stench of smoke, my nose caught the dry tang of dust, stale urine, and mountain lichen. Then farther off¡ªtree resin, faint and sharp. There was no hint of human or animal presence. I needed to return to the ambush site. If Tarun had survived, he was likely wounded and in dire need of aid. Yet venturing into this darkness would be sheer folly. So I settled with my back to the stone wall, eyes still closed. The chill of the rock seeped into me, sharpening the edge of the mountain air. Still, I willed my muscles to relax, banishing the tension from the captivity and subsequent escape. I would not sleep¡ªsleep was too detached, too slow to emerge from. Instead, I descended into the shallower rhythm of my meditations. A half-conscious state where the essence of time thinned and the world narrowed to the slow murmur of breath and distant, indistinct drone. Trouble was unlikely during the Dark, but caution was ever a virtue, especially in unfamiliar locations. The rhythm of my heart slowed. My haunting thoughts¡ªthe worry about Tarun¡¯s fate, the bandit¡¯s final warning, the overall delay of my journey¡ªall fell away, dissolving into the stillness. Time passed. It flowed over me like honey. Then at last, I felt it: rays of moonlight, soft and silver, brushing my eyelids. I opened my eyes to the world. Tot had closed. Her bright sister, Ria, now ruled the celestial realm. I found myself seated at the foot of a mountain slope, nestled against a shallow crease in the rock face. To my left I saw the narrow crevice, which held the entrance to the bandit lair. Thin tendrils of black, noxious smoke still seeped from it. The ground was rocky, broken by thorns, weeds, and the occasional mountain bloom. Farther down the slope¡ªperhaps three hundred meters¡ªthe first trees rose. Though sparsely scattered at this altitude, the moonlight cast their pale trunks into a jagged barrier of shadow. There were no signs of human habitation, at least from my vantage point. The brief meditation had revived me¡ªyet the throbbing in my skull had only worsened, blooming like a particularly vicious affliction. I pressed my fingers to my brow and found a sizable swelling crusted with dried blood. The touch sent jagged spikes of pain lancing down my spine¡ªa grim souvenir of my ordeal. My left shoulder, too, was badly bruised from the fall, though it didn¡¯t feel severe. With a muttered curse, I rose, slung my travel bag over my hale shoulder, and scanned the slope below for the most expedient path to the shelter of the trees. Nothing stirred in the shrouded dark. Only the wind¡¯s hollow wail disturbed the silence. I doubted the bandits had stationed a lookout¡ªsuch men were too indolent for that level of discipline. Besides, the lair itself was all but invisible beyond a few meters. What concerned me more was the possibility of encountering one of the local predators. They rarely approached well-traveled roads, but the scent of blood¡ªhowever faint¡ªmight prove an irresistible lure. Even to a beast that would normally consider me too large a quarry. With one hand poised near Aur¡¯Dor¡¯s hilt and the other gripping my bag, I began my descent. Ria¡¯s silvery glow offered just enough light to pick my way through the uneven terrain. Somewhere in the distance, the distinct, overlapping howls of a hungry trimouth echoed through the mountain. Others answered farther off. Whether they hunted me or something else, I could not be certain¡ªbut I quickened my pace nonetheless. Soon, I slipped between the first trees. Thirty paces in, I halted beneath the crooked boughs, set down my bag, and retrieved my pathfinder. Old and battered from years of use and dozens of journeys, the device was still reliable. It had room for only three waypoints, but it was attuned to countless major and minor waystones scattered across Anarand. Nearly every step of my wandering life was recorded within that small magitech device. I had no intention of replacing it for a newer model¡ªnot until the Mages devised a way to transfer memory parameters between pathfinders. For the first coordinate, I set north. It was always wise to mark a cardinal direction, in case something went awry with the waystones. For the other two, I chose Westgate and D¡¯al Vorat. That way, I could triangulate my position by determining the Trade Road¡¯s location. One by one, the three small arrows rotated across the glowing edge of the crystal disc and froze in place, each pointing toward its destination. Small numbers appeared beside two of them, indicating the approximate distances to both cities. The number next to the third arrow, as always, remained blurred¡ªever since the closing of the Do¡¯gaar Portal. Still, by rough estimate, I was near the site where the bandits had sprung their ambush. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. ¡°Perfect,¡± I muttered as I slung the bag back over my shoulder and turned, pathfinder in hand, southwest¡ªtoward the road. For four or five segments, I wove through the shadowed canopy. The forest lingered in the final partition before Kalys bloomed. Even the nocturnal hunters had called a temporary truce, slipping into uneasy slumber alongside their prey. Damp foliage whispered softly beneath my boots. At times, the trees pressed too close, forcing me to push through their gnarled tendrils like a swimmer against a slow current. The silence and tranquility of the sleeping forest calmed me. Little by little, the tension from the bandit encounter drained from my body. Only one weight remained¡ªmy fear for Tarun¡ªwhich had anchored itself deep within my chest, urging me onward. And then I saw it. No more than twenty meters ahead, a stone road glimmered in the cold moonlight. At this time of night, it lay deserted, winding its solitary path through the forest¡¯s dense embrace. To my right was the direction of Westgate and Kiyar¡¯s Breasts. The pass now felt far closer than it had in the evening before. I, however, turned left¡ªtoward D¡¯al Vorat. Dread clawed its way into my thoughts as I imagined what I might find. The last images before I struck my head returned in fragments¡ªblurry and menacing. Yet, abandoning Tarun had never been an option. I pushed forward for a few kilometers, my skull still throbbing violently with every step. It was only by chance that I spotted it¡ªa trail of blood bisecting the road. I stopped, then backtracked about a hundred meters to where the crimson path veered sharply toward the right ditch. Tarun. He had tried to follow me¡ªwounded and alone¡ªuntil his strength had finally failed him. I turned toward the trees and followed the trail through the underbrush. A few paces in, my breath caught. A large, still form lay beneath the canvas of shadows. I didn¡¯t need to draw any closer to know it was him. The darkness concealed most details, for which I was thankful. I did not wish to remember my beloved steed in such a manner. Nevertheless, I stepped closer. And blessedly, within three strides of the fallen shape, a soft, pained snort cut through the silence like a prayer answered. ¡°Tarun!¡± I rushed to his side, the travel bag falling from my shoulder. Dropping to my knees, I cupped his muzzle in both hands. ¡°How are you, boy?¡± He tried to lift his head but failed, replying with a strained exhale. My fingers moved urgently, searching his flank and chest. The wound was easy to find¡ªand grim to behold. A crossbow bolt, thick as my thumb, was buried deep in his right side. From the angle and depth, it had likely pierced a lung. The blood loss alone should have ended him hours ago. But Tarun had endured. Even in agony, I knew he had fought¡ªhad kept the predators at bay with horn, hoof, and sheer will. They must have decided he wasn¡¯t worth the risk¡­ not while he still breathed. ¡°Steady, Tarun,¡± I whispered, stroking his muzzle again. ¡°I am here. Remain still. I shall tend to your wounds.¡± I retrieved the comm-disc from my bag, my thoughts focused solely on Tarun. Arin¡¯s warning about the devices was, alas, entirely forgotten. The lights flickered to life¡ªand within moments, Daaris¡¯s voice cut through the silence, sharp with worry and sleeplessness. ¡°Lord Vorat?¡± ¡°Daaris! Summon a Healer from Kazera at once! I am approximately ten kilometers to the north, along the road to Westgate.¡± ¡°My Lord, what happened?!¡± His voice cracked with barely restrained panic. ¡°Tarun is gravely wounded. Inform me the moment you have news.¡± I severed the connection and sank to the ground beside my companion. Sensing my presence, Tarun stirred faintly. I placed a steady hand on his neck, offering what comfort I could. His body was too cold beneath my touch. I took the opportunity to unbuckle and carefully remove his saddle¡ªa task that, thankfully, took only minutes. The makeshift hood he had worn was long lost along the road. There was little left to do but wait¡­ and hope he would endure. An eternity passed before the comm-disc chimed again. ¡°Daaris, tell me the Healer is on their way!¡± ¡°They are coming,¡± he replied, calmer now. ¡°They should reach you within a partition.¡± ¡°A partition?!¡± I growled, bitterness biting the back of my throat. ¡°It is ten kilometers, My Lord,¡± he said steadily. ¡°Do you believe I am unaware of that?!¡± Daaris, choosing to ignore my outburst, inquired, ¡°What has befallen you, My Lord?¡± ¡°An ambush,¡± I replied, forcing my tone back into neutrality. ¡°Mere bandits. They shall trouble no one further.¡± ¡°Are you unharmed?¡± ¡°As well as I could be.¡± I glanced at my steed. ¡°Tarun, however, was not so fortunate.¡± At the sound of his name, Tarun shifted slightly, and I patted him gently, trying to soothe him. ¡°Listen, before one of them succumbed, he claimed they fled from the north¡ªspoke of some vague danger that forced them to abandon their homes.¡± ¡°Are you certain, My Lord?¡± ¡°As certain as one can be, given the dying words of a cutthroat.¡± I exhaled. ¡°Still¡ªit has been years since organized bandits dared roam these lands. Discover what is transpiring in Northern Amalay that would cause such people to flee. Discreetly.¡± ¡°Rest assured, I shall, My Lord,¡± Daaris replied grimly. ¡°Very well. I shall contact you once the Healer has concluded their work.¡± ¡°Of course, My Lord. May Azur¡¯s light guide you.¡± The connection ended. I pocketed the comm-disc and began listening for the sound of hoofbeats, though it was still too early. Minutes stretched taut as bowstrings, each one straining toward the breaking point. The forest around me stirred with the coming of dawn. Kalys¡¯s faint light began to filter through the canopy. Tarun lay still. Only the weak, fluttering pulse at his neck told me he hadn¡¯t yet surrendered. Where was that damned Healer?