

a novel

J. Christopher Cortez

the Guardians of Valinon

by J.Christopher Cortez

Published by J. Christopher Cortez at Smashwords

copyright 2010 J. Christopher Cortez

illustrations by the author

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

illustrations by the author

Book One

TORCHES

Chapter I

The Outlaw

In the open doorway stood two large men. Their long shadows stretched across the dimly lit tavern. Their green-sleeved shirts and thick leather coats of armor branded them as Brigandines—the royal guards of Keeptown and elite warriors of Veredon.

"We're looking for the outlaw who goes by the name of 'Leuco'," one of the soldiers announced, scanning the room for his quarry.

The tavern's rowdy patrons drew quiet and still from the sudden appearance of the king's officials.

"Is he here?" The soldier asked, patiently awaiting a response.

Leuco sat in the corner of the tavern at a dark, wooden table with a gray-bearded merchant. The two had been negotiating the price for an escort to the Towering Titans mountain range on the rolled-up scrap of parchment resting in Leuco's gloves.

Leuco took his eyes off the numbers to examine the pair of unwelcome soldiers. He wasn't expecting to have been spotted so soon.

The Brigandine in the doorway doing all the talking signaled to his partner, who then pulled in a dirty, distressed, shaggy-haired boy by his over-sized shirt.

"This young thieving child told us we could find him here," the soldier began. "Perhaps this little delinquent was speaking in jest?"

He pulled the boy closer to him by his now ripped shirt and shook him violently.

"Boy," he said with a threatening tone, "do you know the punishment for lying to officials? Perhaps you need to be taught a lesson!"

Leuco didn't recognize this new bullying soldier, but it was clear that the young Brigandine took far too much pleasure in abusing the small boy. Leuco considered him far too hostile to be an honest defender of Keeptown—another sign of the bitter changes spreading throughout his war-torn homeland.

Leuco would have preferred avoiding involvement, but his conscience weighed heavy upon him like a mountain of guilt. He had developed a certain reputation for challenging the Brigandines—and that was exactly why they were looking for him.

Leuco decided it was best to get on with the soldiers' game and spare the poor child in their custody any more trouble. Raising his palms as if he were refusing an offer of drink, he smiled and stood from his table.

He noticed there were only two Brigandines this time. They were either very cocky, he thought to himself, or simply not very bright.

"I hear you are looking for Leuco the Hawk."

The leading Brigandine eyed the mysterious speaker. He was dressed as an ordinary trader with a burgundy chaperon hood, and yet it was clear that he was far too big, and far too built, to be merely a man of simple business.

"I suggest you leave," Leuco added, "before you find him."

At this, the real merchant sitting next to him stood and slowly backed away from the table. Leuco offered the old man a nod of approval.

The Brigandine standing at the door was surprised by the stranger's blatant threat. He was expecting the boy in his arms to be lying. He did not expect to actually find the former Guardian of Valinon in a place like Raco's.

The Brigandine studied the stranger's shadowed face, obscured in the dim flickering glow of firelight. Though he had never seen Leuco before, he somehow recognize the steely gaze from his piercing hazel eyes.

"Leuco...?" He whispered to himself. He felt his heart race and a hesitant gulp drop down his throat. He finally drew his sword and, as if well-rehearsed, unflinchingly declared, "Under order of Lord Ursidor, ruler of Veredon, we have come to see you pay for your treacherous crimes! Dead or alive, you have been ordered to appear before the king and it is our duty to see that justice for the people is faithfully served!"

"Is it?" Leuco asked sarcastically. "And I suppose that would include abusing poor children and locking them up in cages?" Leuco pointed to the small boy and shook his head. "Let the boy go, and be on your way."

The young soldier was fuming. He found Leuco's impudence insulting. "We aren't leaving until you have paid for your crimes in full!"

The second soldier was surprised by his partner's fearlessness. Did he not know about Leuco the Hawk? Had he not heard the stories? He stood, just like the rest of the tavern's captivated audience, watching the scene unfold in suspense. Only now did the soldier realize he was expected to draw his blade as well.

Leuco responded to the bold Brigandine's accusation with an irritated sigh. "I will fight you if I must, but I warn you, you have spoiled a very good contract for me and you may not find mercy so easily forthcoming."

The officials looked at each other, then to Leuco who began removing his disguise.

He was easily taller than average, and his bronze body was both thick and strong. His worn face was formed by sharp lines and deep penetrating eyes. Underneath his chin was a very fine arrow-headed beard that ran up to his sideburns. His hair was short and sprinkled with gray all throughout. His appearance suggested the wisdom of experience, but his eyes portrayed the free spirit of an idealistic youth.

After his last encounter with officials, Leuco was compelled to prepare himself for another. From underneath his robe he revealed a fitted cuirass of scarred segmented steel plates. Then, with his massive arms, he pulled from his back a pair of curved hand axes.

The pair of soldiers immediately realized they had gotten themselves into a great deal of trouble, and now they had no idea how to get themselves out.

The first soldier took a moment to think of a plan and then called to the tavern's patrons.

"Listen all you adventurers and rogues! There is a bounty on this man's head! If you aid us, not only will you earn the favor of our sovereign, but you will share in the very generous reward granted for his death!"

Leuco looked around, guarding his sides and rear in case there were any takers. He had no intention of battling any soldiers, let alone an entire tavern full of wily rogues and mercenaries. He wasn't expecting such cowardly guile from a soldier wearing the uniform of a Brigandine.

Everyone knew well the name of Leuco the Hawk. His reputation as a skilled fighter was only outweighed by his reputation of virtue and honor. He was, after all, Veredon's most famous son and champion; one of the greatest heroes of the realm's three kingdoms—and one of the last of the legendary Guardians of Valinon. They knew it was because of his actions, not the king's, that peace to Veredon had been restored.

The patrons were still and quiet. No one made a move. No one made a sound. No one seemed to breathe.

"You waste your breath," Leuco finally proclaimed. "You don't have the people's respect. You need to earn it. But if you still want to dance to your death, I'm sure everyone here will enjoy the free entertainment."

The Brigandines had called Leuco's bluff, but now they were forced to play their own hand. Defeat in battle would surely result in the loss of deference from the seediest sort of rogues in town. Even if they survived, they would never live that down. And as for winning—well that was hardly a possibility against a warrior of Leuco's strength and skill.

Grudgingly, the soldiers slid their swords back into their scabbards. They had no other choice but to fold before disgrace.

"We will let you go this time, Leuco," the first announced, "but when we meet again, we will show no mercy. Mark my words: you will pay for your crimes and your insolence. I suggest you leave Keeptown immediately before we return with more soldiers."

With that they headed out the door—violently dragging the thieving young boy along with them.

"Hold, gentlemen," Leuco called, pointing with one of his axes. "The boy stays with me."

The two soldiers stopped and looked at one another in confusion. Then, once again, the leader of the pair spoke.

"This thieving boy has yet to learn his lesson," the soldier replied. "Have no fear; we Brigandines shall see to his punishment."

"What is this boy's crime?" Leuco asked.

"This rat has been accused of stealing from numerous locals. We're taking him to the cages."

The boy's eyes widened in fear.

"He's not going to the cages," Leuco declared. "He stays here, with me."

"You lost your privileges as an official long ago, Leuco! If you harm this boy..."

"I won't harm him, and neither will you. This child's only crime is hunger. He stays with me."

The soldier was now frustrated with Leuco's demands. "This dirty thief ratted you out! Now you mean to feed him?"

Leuco grabbed the boy from the official and replied, "I'm sure he's learned his lesson." He patted the boy on the head, and smiled. "There was no harm done. After all, I was never really in any danger, was I?"

A chuckle came from the spectators. They were well aware of what was happening. They applauded the warrior's bold act of defiance.

The leading official was enraged.

"You've gone too far this time, Leuco! I'll be back, and I guarantee you won't be laughing then!" He motioned to his partner, "Let's go!"

Leuco watched them leave. When the door closed, he knelt down before the small boy.

"What's your name, young man?" he asked.

The boy was quiet. In his mind, he was only trying to avoid the kennel yard. He was grateful for the hero's intervention, but was still quite afraid. He had brought unwanted trouble to the mighty warrior, and now he prepared himself to face his impending punishment. Finally, he whispered his name, almost as ashamed of its sound as he was of his actions.

"'Bo-vee,' huh? Alright, Bovi. I am Leuco. I can tell you're hungry, and obviously a bit scared. What say we get out of here and get a bite to eat? How does that sound?"

The boy was quiet. He had no words, only doubt. He couldn't tell if the warrior was being sincere.

"I suppose you can stay if you'd prefer to be locked in the cages. I've heard the rats in the kennels are quite fond of playing with small children."

The boy shook his head repeatedly.

"Well, then. Let's get out of here and get you something to eat."

Chapter II

The Inn of the Dancing Moons

The prospect of real food filled Bovi with great delight.

When the people on the street scolded and chased him, he never thought twice about his desire to steal; nor did he ever question the wretched need to rummage through their trash. In his mind, it was all very much like picking fruit from a tree. Now, he was going to buy his food just like the decent folk from which he stole.

For poor Bovi, a chance to be like everyone else was a delectable treat all in itself.

The pair stopped at a street vendor selling skewers of cooked meat. The sweet scent of roasted pork warmed Bovi's stomach and the beautiful, golden-brown flesh cooking in the flickering fire had him licking his lips in anticipation. Leuco ordered him a single skewer and as the man handed it to the boy, the vendor hesitated for a brief second. He eyed him suspiciously as he finally gave it away. The filthy boy looked terribly familiar to him, and he watched as the boy quickly tore himself a bite from the stick of meat.

"Before we leave, I need to collect some things. We need to make it quick to best avoid another confrontation with the officials."

Bovi didn't understand why Leuco was bringing him along. He didn't understand why Leuco had even bought him food. Bovi decided it best not to question his good fortune. Instead, he simply took another bite of his savory treat.

Leuco paid the vendor and as the man collected and sorted his copper, he finally recognized the departing boy as the young thief who had stolen from him days before. The man's eyes narrowed as he watched the young boy proudly turn and stick his tongue out in jest.

*

Resting on the outskirts of Keeptown was the Inn of the Dancing Moons—the first stop for weary settlers fleeing from the the neighboring kingdom of Valinon.

Cimmie's late father ran the inn for years, and now the whole building belonged to her—at least until the day King Ursidor would decide to claim it for the people.

This, however, didn't worry Cimmie too much. She did her best to avoid trouble, and with Leuco's help, she always paid her dues on time.

The Inn of the Dancing Moons was one of the most remarkable structures in town. It was, after all, the only other two-story building in all of Veredon—the other, of course, being Ursidor's keep.

The first floor of the inn was constructed from rock and mud; the second was composed of wooden planks and had a roof of dry grass. There was a small adjacent barn for the pigs and horses that Cimmie's assistant Sal casually looked after.

The large door to the inn was made of strong Veredonian timber reinforced with iron. It was always kept locked from the inside with a thick wooden beam.

Leuco knocked as the young boy stood behind him, licking his fingers for every last hint of flavor. The viewing window on the door slid open, revealing a pair of curious, irritated eyes. From behind the door came a heated jabbering.

"I told you! We're not interested!"

Then, almost instantly, the tone suddenly changed. "Oh! Leuco! It's you!"

The door quickly opened, and the man standing at the entrance greeted his friend cordially.

"Welcome back! I thought you were another one of those Followers of Xenos. They come by all the time, you know, asking for donations, spewing threatening words of death. It's deplorable! If you're looking for Cimmie, she's in the kitchen."

"Thank you Sal. I need to get my things first, then I'll be downstairs to say good-bye."

"Leaving already?" the thin man asked, as he locked the door behind him. "Usually they give you a couple of days before they start looking for trouble."

"There was an incident at Raco's. I thought it best to leave now rather than bring trouble here."

"You must be getting sloppy, Leu," Sal remarked, taking note of the strange boy standing at his side.

The inside of the inn was modestly lit by an old and humble chandelier of candles hanging from the ceiling. Leuco led Bovi upstairs to a small dark hallway with four doors. Leuco's room was even darker. He asked Bovi to open the window to give them some light. The stars were bright tonight and the waning moons in the night sky gave the chamber a soft, lavender glow.

The room wasn't very big, but it had enough space for a cot and a chest, which Leuco opened to reveal a pair of large packs. Bovi watched as Leuco removed his trader's cap and robe and put them into one of the bags. He then removed his pair of axes and pointed them out to Bovi.

"These blades," he said, "have saved my life more times than I can count."

Bovi marveled at the sight. He could feel the power emanating from the mighty weapons. He realized that he was in the presence of a great warrior. He had never considered it before, but at that moment, he realized he wanted to be one too.

Bovi thought of the townspeople who mocked him. He thought of the terrifying monsters who slaughtered his family. If only he were like Leuco, he thought to himself. Then he would be able to stand up for himself and earn some respect.

As he led Bovi out of the room and to the stairway, Leuco tried to learn more about his young friend.

"Bovi, do you have any parents?" he asked.

Bovi shook his head.

"Do you have a home?"

Again, he shook his head.

Leuco knew the boy could speak. After all, he had informed the guards of his presence at Raco's Tavern. He tried once more.

"Where are you from, Bo?"

The boy hesitated for a moment and then finally replied in a soft whisper.

"Valinon."

He still couldn't look the old warrior in the eye. "My family was poor. We moved here to the Northern Hills after the floods. We were attacked by trolls and..."

Bovi stopped. He sniffed and rubbed the tears from his eyes. He missed his parents. He missed the warmth of having a home. He felt shame for how he was forced to live.

Leuco knew the rest of the boy's story. It was all too common. More and more farmers were fleeing the famine in the southern kingdom of Valinon, only to be greeted here in the north with abusive Brigandines and the fierce howling cries of ravenous monsters. He had fought trolls almost all his life: as a soldier in Ursidor's defense brigade and, before that, in the service of the late King Cervusian, former ruler of the unified realm. Now it seemed the hordes had returned yet again to terrorize the countryside.

Leuco had lost many friends to the trolls of the mountains. He shared the boy's grief. He stopped in the middle of the stairs and looked back to the young boy. He put his hand on Bovi's shoulder.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Bovi. It must be hard living on your own. But it doesn't have to be that way. I have a small homestead in the valley with wide open fields and a small barn for animals. If you wish to live a decent life of hard work and learning, I can offer you a home and a trade that will help you take care of yourself. What do you think? Do you want to run in the streets with the stray dogs, or would you care to live an honest life and join the rest of the good world?"

Bo looked at his tattered sandals and thought of the mighty weapons in the warrior's pack.

"Will you teach me to be a warrior, like you?" he asked.

"Yes, Bovi, but it's not all just hack and slash," Leuco replied as he twirled a small hatchet in his hand and quickly put it back in its place at his side. "I can teach you how to wield a weapon, amongst many things, but you must learn first how to wield a conscience. From now on, there will be no more stealing or pickpocketing. Do you understand?"

The young boy nodded his head in agreement.

The doors from the kitchen opened, and a young woman appeared. She wore a modest gray dress with a white apron. Her long curly brown hair was pulled up and back to accentuate the fairness of her countenance, as well as the gentle glow of her matching eyes.

"Heavens! Is that a baby hawk?" she cried out, acknowledging Leuco's young new friend.

Leuco recognized the tender tone of her familiar, honey-coated voice. He smiled and turned to greet her with a hug.

"I know I was just here earlier, Cimmie, but I have to get going."

"I saw a band of officials talking to a vendor outside. I saw him point in this direction." She offered a sly smile. "I should have known they were talking about you."

"Don't worry; we're on our way out. I just... wanted to say good-bye."

Cimmie studied the brown-eyed boy beside him with a wave of jealousy. Before she was merely joking, but now she realized the two had indeed shared one stark similarity: though of different colors, both had the same piercing eyes very much like those of a bird of prey. Where exactly, and more importantly she thought, whom exactly had this young boy come from?

"Who is this, Leu?"

Leuco looked down at the boy, unsure of how best to explain.

At that moment, Sal returned in a fuss, pointing frantically to the door.

"What's wrong Sal?" Leuco asked.

"It's the Brigandines! They're here!"

BANG-BANG-BANG!

Sal began to panic. "What do I do, Cimmie?! What should I tell them?!"

Though Cimmie never committed any sort of crime, she had quite enough experience dealing with the law. The best way to do that, she learned, was to stay out of their way. Leuco, however, was more than a friend and even though she had no intention of turning him in, she preferred not to suffer the justice, or rather injustice, of a Brigandine's persecution.

BANG-BANG-BANG!

"Let us in!" shouted a voice from behind the door. "Let us in or we'll tear this door down!"

Leuco turned to Cimmie, "I never meant to get you involved. Watch the boy. I'll take care of this." He turned to Sal, just as he had done years before, and gave him a nod. "Let them in, Sal."

BANG-BANG-BANG!

Sal took a gulp and shook his head. He knew things were going to get ugly. He took a deep breath as he opened the door. A group of four officials barged through, nearly knocking Sal to the ground.

"It's about time!" they shouted. "We've come for Leuco! Where is he?"

Leuco recognized the voice. It was the same Brigandine from earlier, but this time, he noticed there was something even more familiar about the young soldier; as if there was a fervent quarrel left strangely unsettled from long before the two had ever met. They were connected in some way, he knew, and yet for the life of him he couldn't fathom how.

"I'm here," Leuco proudly declared to the familiar soldier. He carried himself into the middle of the foyer where he dropped his bags on the hardwood floor. He crossed his arms, waiting for the vengeful Brigandine to reveal his true intentions.

The soldier's name was Reeze, and the encounter from earlier that day had left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. He resented the old warrior's self-righteousness, and now that he was in a position of power, he was determined to expose him as the treacherous villain he had always known him to be. He had three companions with him this time. Brimming with confidence, he unsheathed his sword.

"You should have fled Keeptown when you had the chance, traitor!"

The other Brigandines followed Reeze's lead and drew their swords as well. Then, their leader gave the order to attack.

"Take him!"

Leuco had no intention of killing any soldiers. He himself had once served as a Brigandine and even though they clearly yearned for his blood, he still felt a sense of camaraderie with their ranks. He had been capable of avoiding combat with them so far, but this new soldier had obviously developed a personal grudge.

One of the soldiers lunged at him with a sweeping strike over his head. Instinctively, Leuco grabbed a chair from the table beside him. With it, he parried the attack. It immediately crumbled under the force of the warrior's swing. With only the chair's legs in his hands, Leuco quickly countered by bashing them both into the Brigandine's face.

Almost as soon as he made contact, Leuco turned his body and kicked his leg out to meet the second attacker straight in his gut.

The soldier staggered briefly, but bravely kept himself standing on his feet. Leuco quickly pressed his advantage with a swift uppercut straight to the chin. He felt the direct connection from the rattling of the soldier's teeth. Then, grabbing him by his leather coat, Leuco threw the man into his initial attacker, knocking both into a nearby table.

Expecting the "old man" to be disoriented from the wave of attacks, Reeze rushed in and swung his sword, slashing down across his enemy's chest. Leuco quickly strafed to his left to dodge the attack and reached for Reeze's exposed forearm. Reeze was caught by surprise at the old man's blazing speed, and before he could shake himself free, Leuco had slammed his sharp elbow clear into his face. He took the young Brigandine's sword and pinned him to the floor.

Leuco pressed the point of his blade firmly against his neck. "Put your swords down!" he called to the others. "This quarrel is over. Leave in peace, or you can stay in pieces!"

Reeze's eyes glared, and his face was fuming. He tried yelling out of his teeth.

"Don't! Don't do it! He's bluffing!"

Reeze looked into Leuco's eyes. "You won't kill me, old man! It's not your way! You care too much for little women and poor children! You've become too soft and too weak!"

Leuco looked over to his friends hiding behind the counter. His travels had been too long and too hard. Reeze's words rang true.

"Perhaps I have been growing old and growing soft, but that is the way of all men. As for weak..."

Leuco slammed his fist fiercely into Reeze's skull. The young warrior's unconscious body slumped to the floor.

The remaining soldiers had Leuco surrounded. They stood ready to continue the fight.

"Is this really what you want?" he called out to them.

They looked to one another briefly, as if considering retreat. Finally, spurred by their own pride, they charged at Leuco's sides.

Leuco pulled a hand axe from his belt to block their combined assaults. First, he parried with Reeze's sword; then, like a swooping raptor, he met the other attack with his axe. He circled his wrist wildly and with the fluke of his blade, jerked his opponent's sword from his hand. The pull brought the soldier just close enough for him to come in with the hilt of his weapon square against the jaw. He kicked the soldier aside and spun around just in time to defend against the other Brigandine's cowardly attack.

Their swords met with an ear-shattering clang that echoed throughout the inn. Using his pair of weapons, Leuco locked his opponent's blade, keeping him trapped in place.

"Why have you turned against us?" the Brigandine asked, his steel blade scraping against Leuco's sword. "Lord Ursidor offers forgiveness, Leuco! Be reasonable!"

"Is that why he offers to pay for my death? You can tell Ursidor when he is true to his people, and true to himself, I will be ready to offer my forgiveness! Until then," Leuco countered, pushing him back, "tell him to stay out of my way!"

With that, Leuco kicked the Brigandine between the legs. The soldier's face cringed as he tumbled over in pain. Leuco looked over to check the other combatant, who had stood alone rubbing his battered chin.

"We can still call this a draw," Leuco offered, lowering his weapons. "In fact, I was on my way out. Tend to your wounded," he warned, "or you leave with more than a headache."

The young Brigandine, after seeing his companions easily disposed had lost all confidence. He wisely nodded in agreement.

Leuco walked over to Cimmie, who now stood up from behind the safety of the inn's bar. He picked up one of the legs of the broken chair. The old warrior took her hand and smiled. "Don't worry. I'll replace the furniture."

Leuco ran his fingers against her cheek. "I wish, for once, we could part like the normal folk. Wouldn't that be nice?"

Cimmie smiled. She took the piece of wood from his hands. "'Normal'? You're anything but normal, Leuco—but you know, that's one of the things I like about you."

"One of the things?" Leuco asked.

Cimmie began to blush. She playfully smacked him in the arm with the chair's broken leg.

Leuco smiled and winked to Bo, who stood in awe, marveling at the old warrior's fighting skill. "Trust me," he sighed, "it's not as fun as it looks."

Leuco held Cimmie in a warm embrace and whispered softly in her ear, "You can come with me, you know?"

"And do what, Leu?" she replied, expressing her frustration as she let him go. She had already begun cleaning up the pieces of furniture scattered upon the floor. "Fight off officials and monsters? Live a life of danger? My home is here. I... I can't just leave it for..."

Leuco didn't want to hear the rest. He understood all too well. He had made quite a mess of his life. He couldn't blame her for not wanting to share in it. After all, he wasn't quite fond of it either.

Leuco had made things rather difficult for himself. He was no longer welcome in Veredon, yet still he refused to leave. This was his home. This was where he was born, and this was where he planned to die. He had sworn an oath to protect his land and his people. He couldn't leave them. More importantly, he couldn't leave Cimmie.

Leuco turned to grab his things and found that Bo already had them in hand. They were obviously too heavy for the determined lad, so the old warrior took one of the bags and offered him a gentle pat on the head.

He looked back to Cimmie, "It won't always be like this. Things are going to change. You'll see."

Cimmie struggled to hide her disappointment. She wanted to believe him; she wanted to be with him. He had given up so much for so long. She wanted to be there to comfort him, to free him from his heavy conscience. Instead, all she could do was feign a masking smile and offer a pensive wave good-bye.

Chapter III

Vanity Prayers

When the arrival of the queen was announced, Canidae sat himself up straight in his seat. He wanted her to see he had become quite comfortable sitting in her husband's throne. He dismissed his servants, and then beckoned for his escorted guest to enter.

The Queen of Valinon was well known throughout the realm for her unrivaled beauty; and even though she had grown older and wiser, she easily retained the shape and feminine charms of her youth.

She wore a delicate, sparkling silver crown with curved points that extended over her flowing long white hair. She matched her ivory locks with an elegant gown the color of the clearest sky. Her brown eyes were beautiful and wide like those of an innocent doe, and they shined in the dancing light of the torches propped against the stone walls of the elongated chamber. Though bound in chains, she carried with her still a regal style and approached the throne with a dignified and heavenly grace.

She stood tall, looking straight ahead into the eyes of her accuser.

Canidae was not intimidated by her enchanting beauty nor her noble bearing. He knew she had been conspiring against him, and earlier that evening, his suspicions were finally confirmed.

"Well, have you anything to say in your defense?" he asked in the politest of tones, speaking as if preparing to scold a timid child.

She played the part convincingly, the whole time pleading ignorance. "I'm afraid I don't understand, my lord" she said, shaking her head.

"You don't understand?" he asked, now speaking in a condescending tone.

"Well, allow me to explain!" He clapped his hands, signaling to his servants. "Bring in the bodies!"

A pair of soldiers dressed in white uniforms entered the chamber, each one dragging the body of a dead servant.

Canidae stood up from his throne, fixing his white tunic to flaunt the black ankh upon his chest. The opposite sides of the symbol's cross were inverted as to represent both life and death. For true believers, the circle at the top symbolized the promise of eternal peace. This was the emblem for Canidae and his new-found faith. This was the emblem for the Followers of Xenos.

Canidae's pale face was roguishly handsome, and he kept it finely groomed and clean-shaven. He had a pair of steely dark, cold eyes whose brown color might as well have been completely black. His striking silver mane was kept in the most common of styles: a short cut of hair combed back in the way of an established nobleman.

Canidae was not a big man, but he was quite clever and quite skilled with his pair of sickled blades. Long ago he earned the distinction of being one of the realm's greatest heroes—a Guardian of Valinon. He had earned the reputation of being a a clever strategist, a fox in battle, and now he had established himself as a fox in politics.

Though much had changed since those glorious days, the people of Valinon still worshiped their beloved hero, and now as their Patriarch and regent, he had earned their unquestionable loyalty and faithful devotion. His subjects, however, were utterly oblivious to his list of horrific crimes committed against them.

Canidae looked down at the first of the corpses lying at his feet. "This poor soul—Xenos bless him for his courage and devotion—suffered a terrible illness. This is, of course, the court's food tester..."

The queen realized as soon as she saw the servants' bodies that her scheme had come to its fatal end. She felt her skin grow warm and flush.

Canidae looked to the queen, expecting his words to trigger some kind of response. He knew she found them infuriating. He was getting to her, and soon she would confess.

"Yes, a food tester. You see, Xenos gave me the gift of insight. He came to me in my dreams and spoke to me. Do you know what he said?"

Canidae confronted her face to face, his index finger resting on his lips.

"He told me that there was a non-believer amongst us who had been planning murder."

The queen's silent response ignited Canidae's frustrations. He barked the words in her face.

"Murder! My murder!"

The queen dropped her head to protect it from the fury and spit spewing from his raging mouth. The man had become possessed. Her only hope to escape conviction, she knew, was to continue her act.

"This man was poisoned!" Canidae shouted, pointing to the dead body. "Do you know what that means?!"

The queen merely shrugged in clear denial.

Canidae let out a sigh as his tone simmered to one of a mock pleasantry. "Someone, my dear lady, was obviously trying to poison me."

He walked over to the other body. It was Sophi, the queen's personal maid.

The queen's eyes filled with tears of anger.

"And this poor woman... oh, what evil secrets we keep. Her will was strong, but her faith was weak. Xenos finally took her body in the end. She confessed, of course, to better her standing before judgment. She told us the truth."

He was lying, but he knew his words would break her charade. He turned his attention back upon the queen.

"Tell me, Lady Lara," he asked, "how is your faith?"

She couldn't contain herself. She had enough of his twisted banter, his schemes, his hate, and his acts of evil. She easily read between his lines of deceit. They made her sick. She clenched her fist as she burst into accusation.

"You are a miserable monster, Canidae! My husband trusted you! Look at you! Look at what you've done!" With her hands, she pointed to the bodies on the floor. "You swore to protect and serve, but instead you exploit and abuse the people! They are starving, suffering, and dying! You've destroyed everything Cervusian spent his whole life building!"

Her true colors finally revealed, he thought to himself. If only she knew the truth.

He paid no heed to the rest of her words. He was too busy staring at the ornaments in her hair. He plucked her jeweled crown from her head and examined its brilliance as he spoke.

"I am serving the people, Lara. They want me to lead them, to restore honor and glory to our kingdom—honor which your husband failed to give them. Your husband was a liar, a cheater, and a thief! But I am the torchbearer of long awaited justice. You, my dear, are merely blind to the vision. That is why I rule, and you are but a royal guest in my castle. Xenos, god of life and death, has not chosen you for this great endeavor."

Lara laughed at his speech. "Do you think me a fool? There is no godly scheme to your tyranny! You cast a disease upon our farmlands in order to turn the desperate people in your favor! You are a villain! A soulless monster! You've destroyed a once glorious kingdom and replaced it with nothing but fear and despair! You would keep our people on the verge of death solely to maintain your power!"

Her criticism struck Canidae like a dagger. With his hands, he crushed her delicate crown to pieces.

"The land must be remade in the image of our faith! If it must be broken in order to be rebuilt, then so be it. Destruction is no more than the beginning of creation. The land will be once more reunited, but this time, under the absolute and righteous rule of Xenos—and of course, his loyal servants. I was hoping you would choose to be a symbol of support for our cause. But it is clear to me now that you choose to stand against us, and to stand against the righteous is to damn your very soul to Oblivion."

Canidae held out the fragmented crown in his open hand to the queen. "Like Xenos, however, I can be very forgiving. He still offers you eternal life. That is, if you choose to serve him..."

Lara slapped his hand away, sending the jeweled pieces into the air. "You monster! I would rather die than be a slave to you or your cursed god!"

Canidae pulled his dark dagger from his belt and then locked her in a violent embrace. She could feel his breath rolling down her neck as he slowly whispered in her ear, "That, my queen, can easily be arranged."

Lara let out a deep gasp.

Her limp body slid to the floor. There she lay clutching her chest with a red pool of blood behind the palms of her hands.

Canidae turned to his guardsmen and called to them, "Bring me the daughter!"

He stood over the queen huddled upon the marble tile, watching as her life and her blood fled from her still body. What a terrible waste, he thought to himself. He turned and sat once more upon his adopted throne.

"And someone," he added out of irritation, "please clean up this mess!"

Chapter IV

The Princess

"What's the matter, Phelidae? You don't seem yourself today."

"Nothing's wrong," the old warrior replied. The expression on his dark face, however, reflected otherwise.

The young girl, with her cat-like step and untamed spirit, reminded him so much of himself. He tried his best to mask the truth.

"Let's try that pattern again. Prepare yourself, Princess!"

The old warrior's sword came down with a great clang against Nephia's: once, twice, and then a third time. Nephia returned the favor, first high, then low, and then finally the reverse.

Phelidae raised his sword again and repeated the attack.

Nephia usually struggled to keep her short sword steady against his pair of twin blades, but tonight he was going easy on her. She shoved his weapon back with a display of strength she hoped would impress him.

"Come on, Phelidae!" she called to him. "You're never this soft! You're only attacking with one of your sabers! Why call me out here in the middle of the night, if you're just going to play games!"

Nephia was dressed in a scaled, dark leather cuirass and her hands were protected by a pair of matching gloves. Though she was only fourteen, the young princess had learned much in the way of the sword from Phelidae's teachings and she tried not only to copy his swordplay, but also his words and dress. He was, after all, the most famous swordsman in all of Valinon. He was also the only man left in her life who offered her any affection.

Phelidae's mind was reeling with conflicted loyalties. For too long, he stood by his brother's side as he drove their former lord's kingdom to ruin. Now Canidae sought to slay this innocent child, one he had sworn to protect, one he had come to love. Could his brother truly be so heartless?

A white-clad, armored figure appeared in the doorway of Phelidae's training room, waiting impatiently for an opportunity to interrupt.

"Excuse me, Weapons Master," the voice called.

It was Faiden—Canidae's most trusted cleric and leader of the elite Immortal Guards of Valinon. He spoke with a soft voice that contrasted with his intimidating physique. He had a long vermillion ponytail, and his jagged golden face was covered in stubble. He was young, but tall and strong, and quite skilled with his curved falchion. Unlike the other Immortal Guards who were trained by the Weapon Master, Faiden had been instructed by the Patriarch himself, to whom the young guard was extremely loyal.

Phelidae stopped his attack in mid-swing. He turned to look at his unwelcome guest. He didn't care much for his brother's young protege. Ever since Canidae had taken the soldier under his wing, Faiden's presence had made him feel quite uneasy, as if the two of them were locked in an unspoken competition. He was clearly a strange young man, made even stranger by the time spent with his power-hungry brother.

"Is it time already, Faiden?" he asked.

"Yes, my lord," the young warrior replied respectfully.

Phelidae wasn't expecting Canidae to come fetch the princess so soon. He still needed time to think, to clear his mind, to come up with a plan.

"Let me take her in," Phelidae offered, still with sword drawn. He didn't realize he had instinctively pointed one of his threatening blades in the young cleric's direction.

Faiden stepped back, puzzled. Was Phelidae trying to protect her? He wanted to argue and tell him that Canidae himself had asked him to fetch her, but Phelidae was the Patriarch's older brother and revered hero. He felt he had no choice but to obey. Confused, he conceded, but thought it best to inform Canidae himself.

"Very well, my lord," he replied. "I'll let the master know you are on your way."

Nephia brushed her long white hair aside, "Where are we going, Phelidae?"

The old warrior said nothing as he watched Faiden leave. This time, he thought to himself, his brother had gone too far.

"We're going to do some training outside, Princess."

Phelidae tried his best to make his lie convincing, but Nephia was already beginning to suspect something was wrong.

*

Phelidae led the young princess through the secret corridors that ran beneath the castle walls. Marching at a brisk pace, they quickly reached an underground canal that led directly to a gated exit near the eastern end of the citadel.

Now, wading through shallow waters, Nephia could no longer hold back her unease. She trusted Phelidae, as she would trust a loving uncle, but now she was overcome with fear and anxiety.

She refused to go any further.

"Stop right there, Phelidae!" she demanded. "Where are you taking me? And I want to know the truth!"

No more lies, he thought. He turned to face her and, when he did, he noticed behind her the flicker of torchlight coming from further down the corridor.

Phelidae quickly gave her his torch and immediately ran to the gate's mechanical wheel. He began to turn it with a fierce intensity that frightened the young princess. Usually it took the muscle of two men to open the gate. Phelidae, however, had no choice but to rely on his own determined strength.

The chains rattled, the wood groaned, and the creaking machine echoed throughout the tunnel. She stepped back, and turned as to run away. That's when she saw the approaching torchlight and accompanying shadows. She could hear the wild shouts of men running and splashing in the water.

"Phelidae? What's going on?" Nephia asked, staring in fear at the approaching soldiers.

The old Weapon Master gave one final push, and the gate was raised just high enough for the young girl to crouch through. He stepped down next to the princess and into the nearly knee-deep stream of water leading out to the surrounding starlit fields.

"I couldn't do it, Princess," he confessed, leading her outside the gate.

"Couldn't do what, Phelidae?"

He held her by the shoulders, well-aware his time was fleeting.

"They're coming for you! You have to leave!" He pointed out into the darkness of the night. "Make for the forest, Nephia, and, no matter what, do not cross the river! Do you understand?"

For the first time, she saw fear in his eyes. She knew it was fear for her. "Phelidae... what is happening? What about my mother? I won't leave without..."

"Your mother is dead, Nephia! I will buy you some time and then come find you!"

Nephia didn't understand. She couldn't believe his words. Her mother? Dead? Her confusion stopped her cold in her tracks. She could hear the soldiers approaching, their splashing footsteps growing louder and louder. From their shouting, she marked them as merely yards away.

"Head straight for the forest!" Phelidae ordered, as he took the torch from her hand. "Do you understand?"

Nephia shook her head. She didn't understand what was happening.

"Run!" he cried as he drew a single sword from his back. He swung against the chain, again and again until finally the heavy gate came crashing into the stream.

She did as she was told, holding back tears. She ran nearly a hundred yards or so and then looked back desperately trying to understand what was happening. Phelidae stood in front of the sealed gate, torch in one hand, sword in the other. She watched as he battled wave after wave of his own students.

Nephia finally understood.

She turned and ran. Behind her, she heard the clash of ringing steel and shouts of men slowly fade in the growing distance.

She never saw Phelidae again.

*

The forest became dense with broad, mangled trees and wiry branches that rose high into the evening sky. Their drooping branches let only the thinnest rays of moonlight through to the forest floor. The soft, moist earth was overgrown with leafy, thorny brush that spread deep into the darkness, shrouded with a thick, eerie mist.

Nephia had gone through the Valinon Forest on horseback once before, but that was long ago, before she and her mother were confined like prisoners in her father's castle. She had never traveled so far on foot, nor had she ever traveled alone in the shadow of night. She was confused and scared. More importantly, she was lost.

Nephia had been running without rest for quite some time. She wasn't sure where she was going or even why she had been forced to flee her home. She raced through the woods, distracted by her thoughts, desperately trying to make sense of her situation.

Since her father's death, Nephia and her mother had lived as prisoners within the great citadel of Valinon. Her father's advisers, who took over the kingdom, had become corrupt with power. They plotted against one another and fought for control of the throne. Of this group, Canidae was easily the most powerful, and the most popular.

Canidae was a well-respected adviser in her father's court. He was an intelligent hero; both scholar and teacher, who was well-known for defending the rights of the people. Shortly after her father's death, Canidae converted to the Followers of Xenos, whose message he spread amongst the despairing masses like wildfire. He sealed the royal library of Valinon and called for his followers to tear down the kingdom's chapels. The people then replaced their old pantheon with a new deity—Xenos, god of both life and death.

In a bid to seize the king's throne and title, Canidae tried to blackmail Nephia's mother into marriage. She resisted his scheme and, by doing so, became his greatest threat. Eventually he amassed the resources for a small army, which he used to bully his opponents into submitting to his rule.

This included Nephia's mother, and this is why she was now running for her life.

Nephia stumbled, falling beside a great tree. She leaned against it for a moment, trying to catch her breath. Would Canidae's men dare chase her so deep into the woods? She bit her lower lip, and stared out into the line of writhing trees in the dark.

Phelidae trained her to be a fighter—to be brave and to be strong. She thought about what Phelidae had taught her on her very first day of training: fighters don't cry.

Phelidae was a real fighter. He was a Guardian of Valinon, just like her father. He was brave and he was strong. But now he was gone. Everyone she loved was gone. Everyone she cared about and everyone that ever cared about her was gone.

She buried her head in her hands, trying to hide the tears streaming from her eyes.

She had never felt so alone.

Chapter V

Ghosts

Nephia wiped her tears. She knew her home was lost.

In her mind, she tried to form a plan.

First, she needed to find her way out of the forest. Then, she would try to get as far away from Valinon as she could.

She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. She grabbed the ornate short sword her mentor had given her to train with and began to push herself up from her resting place underneath the shade of the tree.

That's when she noticed the shadow looming over her.

Startled, Nephia fell quickly back to the mossy ground.

Crawling on her hands, she backed away into the great tree. She lifted herself up, one hand pressed against its trunk, and the other wielding her trembling sword.

The hooded figure stood silently, draped in an ominous cloak that blended seamlessly with the leafy branches and groundcover ferns all around them.

Nephia had heard of the ghosts that lived in the forest beyond the river. There were many tales from those in town who had claimed to encounter these dark spirits: hunters and woodcutters who had barely escaped with their lives.

Nephia never believed those stories to be true—until now.

"St-stay back, specter! I'll fight you if I must!"

She tried her best to sound confident, but she knew the sight of a crying child alone in the forest was far from anything that could be mistaken for intimidating. She thought of her parents. She thought of their strength. Her hand stopped shaking. Nephia convinced herself that she had suffered too much to let her journey end at the hands of a ghost. For the sake of both her name and family, she would fight even the dead.

The mysterious figure slowly approached, and when the hood of the cloak was removed, it revealed the countenance of a beautiful young woman.

The woman bowed her head, offering the formal greeting of the local Valinonians.

Nephia immediately noticed the light tone of her skin—a soft and fair milky white she had never seen. The woman's eyes were a gentle brown and even though they were strangely shaped like ovals, it wasn't the shape or color she immediately noticed. It was the deep glare that mesmerized her most. Her hair was short and black live a raven, and when she moved her head, Nephia swore she saw something peculiar in the shape of her ears.

The woman spoke in whispers and softly waved her delicate fingers. Though Nephia could not understand any of the strange words, she found them irresistibly enchanting.

Nephia lowered her sword to her side, embracing the comfort of the surrounding darkness. Her eyes became heavy, and when they closed, the young princess fell fast asleep.

*

When her eyes opened again, Nephia found herself lying on the ground in a bed of woven reeds and wrapped in blankets of soft furs. Outside, she could hear the birds chirping and singing their morning chorus. She brushed her hair from her face, wiped the sleep from her eyes, and then climbed out from her humble bed to make sense of her mysterious surroundings.

The walls were made of thick, interwoven sticks, not unlike the pattern of a basket. The roof was tapered like a cone and shaped by a set of four strong wooden posts in the center of what she could only deduce to be a small, very rustic, single-room cottage.

In the middle of the floor, the fire that had been burning near her had slowly begun to die. A single stick with bits of rabbit meat pierced the earth and protruded from its pit. There wasn't much furniture in the small room but a single chair, a few clay and iron pots, and some cooking utensils.

She found the door—a very narrow, very short rectangle made of split wooden planks. She got up and made for the exit. That was when the door opened.

Startled, Nephia fell back and stumbled onto the chair. Standing before her was the face of an angel.

"I see you're awake now," the stranger said with a smile. "You've been out all morning." She held out to the girl a basket of nuts and berries and spoke with a sharp, unfamiliar accent.

Nephia was confused. She recalled running away in the forest. She remembered crying. She didn't remember this woman.

"Wh-who are you?"

The young woman extended her basket once more.

"You must be hungry. There's also leftover rabbit in the fire. I didn't expect you to be out for so long. How are you feeling?"

The young princess felt an uncontrollable hunger come over her. She cautiously took the basket and looked beyond the young woman to the numerous trees outside the doorway. She had no idea where she was and absolutely no idea how to get home—wherever that would be.

She sat back in the bed of furs and began to eat the fruit. Even though she had just awakened, she still felt rather exhausted.

"Are you an angel?" Nephia asked.

"No," the woman replied, shaking her head with a smile.

Nephia abruptly stopped eating.

"Are you a ghost?" she asked, mouth still full of food.

Her host let out an embarrassed laugh and sat down in the chair beside her.

"My name is Maria. I am a hunter. This is my home. Who are you?"

Nephia now recognized the woman's beautiful face. She had seen it in her dream.

"My name is Nephia Esme, daughter of the Great King Cervusian Esme and Queen Lara Nev Esme of Valinon."

Maria had encountered many hunters and traders from Nephia's kingdom—mostly when she was scaring them away. She had heard much of the name Cervusian. He was well known throughout these parts as a man of great nobility. She felt compelled to ask, "You... are the princess of Valinon?"

Nephia nodded, too busy chewing to speak.

She raised her eyebrows in skepticism. "What are you doing here so deep in the forest alone?"

Nephia's eyes became teary. She set the small basket beside her, as if she had suddenly lost her appetite.

"I've been chased out of my kingdom, and I am no longer welcome in my home."

"A princess chased out of her kingdom?"

"My mother and father are dead. Their kingdom is now being run by a ruthless monster, a fear-monger corrupt with power and possessed by an obsession for eternal life."

Maria gave a soft smile, "Eternal life?" She found the notion laughable. She shook her head, "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"One of my father's knights, Canidae, returned from his journeys abroad converted to the cult of Xenos. Shortly after my father grew ill, he began spreading the word of his new-found faith. He promises my people eternal life after death—a life without fear, disease, pain, or death. The Followers of Xenos say true believers are granted peace, wealth, and immortality upon their passing from this world, and that all non-believers are cast into Oblivion."

"Well, then perhaps it is best you do not return home," Maria suggested. "These are such corrupt notions of living. Life and death are of the same turning wheel. Everything and everyone has their time in both. No one, Princess, lives forever."

Maria pointed to the trees outside the open door of her cottage. "Just look at the trees. They don't grow eternally. Natural fires burn, bringing down the old so that the young can grow. The old trunks return to the earth, providing food for the younger generations. In fact, often young saplings will grow from the fallen trunks of elders. We spend time enjoying life, spreading life, but sooner or later everyone dies. Through death we allow the life of the future and the life of the earth itself to survive and grow."

Nephia wiped her tears as Maria sat close beside her.

"Your mother and father... they had their time in this world, and it was glorious. They made the most noble of histories, and people will remember them as heroes."

Maria held Nephia's hand.

"Your parents may have passed on from this world, their castle fallen into the hands of another, but their legacy still lives on. You are their greatest gift to this world. You are their miracle. As long as you live and grow to carry their torch, their spirit will live on."

Nephia wiped her tears. "But how? And where? What am I supposed to do?" she sniffed.

Maria felt for the child.

If this girl was in fact a princess and truly the daughter of King Cervusian, perhaps someday she would return to her home. Maybe she could learn to live with the Spirits of the Forests and take that wisdom to share with her people.

Then doubt began to creep its way into Maria's mind. She never did trust her neighbors. Why start now?

She couldn't imagine Nephia's people capable of such selfless stewardship. They did not value the delicate design of Creation. They did not realize the forest was there for all to share. How could they protect, Maria wondered, that which they so uncontrollably abuse? How could they value that which they seem innately set to destroy?

But Maria felt compassion for the lost girl. She, too, knew how it felt to be abandoned and all alone. How could she not offer her help?

Maria placed her hand upon the young girl's. "Don't worry," she said, "You can stay here with me. I can teach you how to take care of yourself—to be self-sufficient, independent and free. You will grow strong, like your parents. And when the time is right, you can take what you have learned and one day return to your home."

Nephia wondered how she could refuse such a generous offer. Where else could she possibly go?

Maria was kind and caring, and in that moment of despair, she was exactly what Nephia needed most—a friend.

Chapter VI

The Forest for the Trees

Word of the queen's fate reached the land of Veredon, and soon it made its way through the hollowed halls of Ursidor's keep.

His name was Ursidor, but in youth he was known as Ursidor the Bear. He was once Cervusian's trusted friend and loyal soldier. Now, as ruler of the neighboring kingdom of Veredon, he sat upon his own humble throne.

Ursidor was a tall and mighty man. He had a long brown mane that he brushed back behind his ears and thick sideburns that ended with stubble down to his chin. His quiet eyes rested deep underneath his bushy eyebrows, set just below a sloped forehead that connected directly to the bridge of his hulking nose. He was a very intimidating man and, when he was angry, it was said that his appearance could easily mimic that of a savage beast.

As the messenger relayed the news, Ursidor's muscles tensed with every word. His massive body leaned forward, as if he was hard of hearing and when the court gasped, his mighty hands nearly tore off the arms of his throne. He shook his head, unable to speak. His eyes scanned the room, as if he were wishing, hoping a second messenger would arrive with more accurate news—news that the woman whom he had loved all his life, would still be alive.

The truth finally sank in, and Ursidor sat back in his throne. He covered his mouth with his mighty hands and shut his eyes. In the darkness he recalled the tender moments, the romance, the two had once shared. He let out a sigh, and for a while, the whole chamber was silent.

Ursidor felt his breath collapse in his throat. He turned away, trying to hide the tears that yearned to be released. His hands formed fists and his face suddenly lit with a burning rage. From his mouth came a single word that summed up all his torturing thoughts.

"Canidae..."

Ursidor recalled how Canidae had exposed their star-crossed affair, and as a result, everyone in the court of Valinon turned against him. Though he faithfully served the queen and defended her crown, he was branded as a traitor and accused of conspiracy. He was exiled from the kingdom and forced to abandon his home and the only woman he had ever truly loved.

In Veredon, he tried to start his life anew: he had his own castle, his own kingdom, his own beautiful wife and child. Yet deep within his heart, he felt nothing but remorse and regret. For years, Ursidor had locked his heart away, dreaming of rescuing Lara from her grief. He secretly hoped that one day the queen would rekindle the affections she had once had for him. That was all impossible now. His life was ruined, and it was all because of Canidae.

"Canidae has gone too far!" Ursidor began. "He betrayed his brothers in the past, and now he strikes again! Not only does he feed his starving people lies to keep himself in power, but now he has murdered the wife and daughter of his former sovereign, betraying his oath and the very people he had once sworn to protect!"

"You think Canidae is responsible for this?" an advisor cautiously asked.

"Of course he is! Do you truly think Lady Lara capable of taking her own life! Or that of her child!? Don't you see? The man is a liar!"

Ursidor rose from his throne, overcome with emotion. "It is clear to me now that Canidae is the source of our realm's troubles. I have long suspected Canidae's hand in the king's demise, and now my suspicion has become conviction! I have rebuilt my innocent name as defender of the people. Now I will prove my loyalty once more as an avenger of the royal family!"

With that, he raised his throbbing fist before his court.

"There is yet one Guardian of Valinon left to fight for justice, and by the blood in my veins, justice shall rightly be served!"

The room shook with wild outbursts. Those calling for war and the conscription of soldiers were the most vocal. The court grew quiet and still, however, when Parnon, the military adviser and Headmaster of the Royal Guard, began to speak.

"I know of the harm Canidae has done against you, my lord. But Canidae is a Guardian, just as you are. Even if it were just to turn against him, the Citadel of Valinon is a marvel of military architecture! Even if we conscripted every man, woman, and child of Veredon, the castle would still be utterly impregnable! Let us focus more on the threat at home! Let us finish the trolls for good before we even consider waging a war with our neighbors!"

Though his words were well-respected in the court, there immediately came cries of protest from the other men in the chamber.

The people of Veredon had become quite suspicious of Canidae's cult, which had already made its way into the streets of Keeptown. They saw the new faith as a threat to their own ancient pantheon, and they were tired of seeing Valinonian refugees flee to their crowded villages.

The blasphemers should be slain!

But what about the trolls?!

We must defend ourselves!

The men began to argue their positions amongst themselves. Each wanted to voice an opinion, and so they did, all at once.

Ursidor bitterly tuned out his advisers' bickering. There was another sound stealing his attention.

He looked over to his son, Ruse, who sat by the window, plucking a mesmerizing sequence of sad arpeggios—broken chords that dripped with ache and regret.

Perhaps it was Ursidor's awakened spirit that triggered the emotion, or perhaps it was the need to mourn his lost love. Whatever it was, the king of Veredon was now suddenly moved by his son's heartbreaking melody.

He approached the prince and drew the attention of the feuding advisers, who finally stopped to listen.

"We will raise an army," Ursidor declared, still focused on the strings of Ruse's pandir.

He then turned to face his court.

"We will call for volunteers to form a new generation of Brigandines—and Ruse, our young prince, will be the first to lead them. They will be trained as Keeptown Regulars and prepared to deal with not only our troll problem to the north, but also with the coming war with the villains of Valinon!"

These words caught the young prince's attention. He stopped his playing to see his father looking down on him. His face expressed something strange and unfamiliar. He had never seen him display such feeling, such passion. All his life, his father was nothing more than a grim golem, an animated giant, silent and devoid of any feeling. Now, for the first time, he saw hints of his humanity.

*

The days quickly turned to weeks for the young princess. In that time, she learned much from her graceful guardian.

Nephia learned to stalk the wild animals and how to skin the fur from their flesh. She learned how to find food where she had once expected to find none; she learned which wild berries, weeds, and roots were edible, which were used for remedies, and which were poisonous. She even learned how to clean herself with a fragrant soap made from the white buds of lillylace trees.

Life in the forest was quite different from the one she led in her father's castle. Their daily routine was focused solely on survival—a task she learned was not so much difficult as it was tedious and dull.

Everyday they foraged for food. They often hiked long hours to simply collect small roots and nuts for the winter. When they hunted, they often trekked deeper into the forests, often climbing trees, and then waiting long periods for their prey. It seemed to her that there was always something to be done, and yet they never gained anything more than a day's worth of food from all their labor.

One day, Maria led Nephia to a stream they had crossed many times before. Most of the time, they merely stopped to collect water, but Nephia knew that whenever they crossed the stream the journey would last the entire day. Hiking to the other side for provisions, Maria explained, would help maintain the balance of wildlife. Nephia understood the purpose of traveling to the other side of the forest, but she never much cared for it.

Maria gracefully danced upon the rocks that led to a fallen tree—a narrow bridge across the running stream. She glided across as if floating on air.

Nephia stopped short of the mossy trunk and perched herself on a nearby stack of slimy dark stones that rose above the water. "How do you live like this?" she asked out of exhaustion.

Maria patiently waited for Nephia to cross. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean... all this work! We do so much, and yet it feels like nothing gets done at all!"

Maria looked up at the sun peeking through the leafy branches and shrugged, "If you are tired, we can stop for a bit."

Nephia leaped from the end of the tree's roots and landed on the other side of the stream. "I'm not tired! I was just asking..."

Maria shook her hood from her head. "Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. It's just... living here alone... Don't you find it a bit boring?"

"I'm not alone, Princess," Maria smiled, "I'm with you. I'm with the birds, the trees. These are my friends."

Nephia sighed, "Don't you miss real friends? You know, people? The festivals, the dancing! The great parades and fancy gowns! What about the markets, the buildings, or the lights at night?"

Maria turned away, suddenly ashamed. She continued along the trail, talking as she went.

"I have never participated in such things. This is where I belong."

For Nephia, the conversation had suddenly become quite interesting. She knew Maria was hiding something.

"I think we belong with our people," she replied, carefully watching for the hunter's reaction. "Where are you from, Maria? Who are your people?"

Maria swallowed hard before she spoke. "I... I have no people."

Nephia ran to catch up with her.

"Surely you came from somewhere? No one really lives in the forest alone! Only the crazies..."

She stopped in mid-sentence. She regretted letting that bit out, but secretly she was hoping it would stir a response. Maria had been so kind to her and she didn't mean to pry, but her curiosity had taken over. She caught herself and tried to take it back.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean you were... you know..."

"It's alright, Princess. Maybe you hadn't noticed, but I do have some peculiar features."

Maria brushed back her short, black hair to reveal a pair of pointed ears.

Nephia marveled at the sight. In all this time, she had never noticed.

Maria wasn't human. She was an elf—an enchanted race of ancient creatures far removed from the civilized ways of man. She must have been the last elf in the realm—an assumption she would learn was only half right.

"You're an elf!" she exclaimed. "Remarkable! But why not live with your kin beyond the Towering Titans?"

Maria stopped. "My kin?"

Nephia was startled. Had she said something wrong? She didn't expect that kind of reaction.

"Look at my face? Don't you see anything strange?"

"You mean, besides the ears and the eyes?"

"Don't you see it?"

"See what?"

"My face."

Nephia didn't understand. She didn't feel comfortable staring, but Maria's beauty was alien and enchanting.

"These cheeks. This nose. My chin. These are human features."

"So?" Nephia asked. "What does that mean?"

"It means, Princess, that I am neither."

It took her a while to figure it out, but then it began to make sense.

Maria was a half-elf.

In Valinon, elves were virtually nonexistent. Nephia had heard tales of their race, but she had never imagined to run into one, much less a half-elf—something she imagined to be far more uncommon. She had difficulty containing her excitement, and Maria could see it written all over her face.

"I'm not a real elf, young princess. I told you. I'm a half-elf."

"That's the same thing, isn't it?"

Maria continued her march ahead of Nephia, correcting her on the way. "Oh, no," she shook her head with a smile. "Trust me. It's quite different."

Nephia had learned from her teachers that the ancient elves fled from the human lands long ago and returned to their homes beyond the river and mountains of the Towering Titans. If this was true, Nephia wondered, what was Maria doing here in the Forest of Valinon?

"Well, explain it to me," Nephia demanded. "I mean, only if you want to..."

Maria sat down. She wasn't so much tired from the trek across the river as she was tired of telling her story.

Maria took a deep breath.

"You asked me why I live here. I do choose to live here. That is true. And I do love it here. But those are not the only reasons. The truth is, Princess, that I have no other place to go."

"I grew up without a mother," she continued, "and shortly after, without a father. I learned at an early age to fear the ignorance and intolerance of man. My story, Princess, is not a very happy one."

"I'd like to hear it," Nephia replied as she sat beside her. "That is, if you'd like to talk about it."

Maria was silent for a moment. She wasn't sure where to begin.

Chapter VII

The Deerslayer

"So what happened next?"

The young princess sat up in her bed of woven reeds, leaning up against one of the posts in the center of Maria's cottage. She had wrapped herself in a thick, soft blanket of rabbit furs. The room was dark, except for the flickering candle that lay beside her.

Maria was turned away on her side, trying to get some rest. She had enjoyed the cathartic conversation, but she also enjoyed her sleep—something that she seemed to have much less of ever since the young princess arrived.

She rolled over, reached for Nephia's candle and blew it out.

"You want to know what happened?" Maria asked with a tone of frustration. "The sun went down, the moon came out, and everyone went to sleep! We have a busy day tomorrow; now is the time to get some rest!"

Nephia couldn't sleep. She wanted to hear more.

"You never finished your story! What happened after your father died? How did you end up here? Who taught you to live in the forest? How did you learn to hunt? You know, my father knew how to hunt! I know how to hunt a little too! Well, I've never actually killed anything, but once I caught a fish. It wasn't very big, but—OW!"

Nephia rubbed her forehead.

"You threw a rock at me!"

"Yes, now go to sleep."

Nephia slid down into her bed and thought about Maria's story. She had always dreamed of such an exciting adventure. Living in the castle with her father, she often heard stories of heroes and villains. She never imagined the real villains would be so close to home.

She thought about her training with Phelidae. She had learned much about the way of the sword, but she had never tested her mettle in battle. She wondered: would she make the Weapon Master proud?

She considered Maria's life in the forest—the lone hunter hiding from her very own people. She imagined Maria would make a good companion. Someone of her skill and experience is certainly bound to the call of adventure. Perhaps one day Maria would choose to leave the forest and, together as friends, the two of them would return to Valinon with both fame and fortune. Nephia began to dream of the future—a future of fame, fortune, and righteous retribution.

Life in the forest was obviously different from the life Nephia had lived in her father's castle, yet here too, living amongst the wild, she felt much like a prisoner. Nephia was dependent upon Maria and bound by labor. They toiled all day, everyday, simply to find the food and materials they needed to survive.

Nephia began to recall the great feasts she had as a young girl in her castle's dining hall. She thought about the leg of venison she ate with bread and the sips of strongwater she stole from her father. She thought of her father and the head of a magnificent stag mounted above his throne.

Maria and Nephia had occasionally encountered deer on their daily travels, but they only dined on smaller critters.

A plan began to form in Nephia's mind.

She wanted to prove she could carry her own weight. She was determined to demonstrate her hunting skill and resourcefulness, as well as repay Maria for all her kindness. And what better way to do that, she thought to herself, then to present the plentiful gift of a royal feast.

*

Early the next morning, guided by the breaking light of a yawning sun, Nephia returned to the small stream they had crossed to gather purpleberries. The gray morning mist was still thick and shifted heavily through the forest, wrapping itself around the trunks of the sleeping trees.

Nephia set sticks in the earth to mark her way. Though she had spent months in the forest, she felt it best to be cautious. After all, she was hunting on her own now to show her companion her worth. Getting lost, she knew, would not only prove otherwise—it would also prove to be be quite embarrassing.

Nephia remembered her father's stories of the royal hunting parties. She knew that deer often stopped at creeks and rivers to lap for water. That was usually where they were slain. She decided the creek would be the best spot to wait for a target to appear.

She sat by the broadest trunk she could find, thinking the tree would provide her sufficient cover. She tied her ivory locks back behind her neck to best blend in with its grayish bark.

She felt the slight breeze on the hairs of her arm coming from what she considered to be the west. In truth, the young princess had absolutely no sense of direction. She knew, however, that deer could smell hunters, so she opted to move to a spot downwind from the creek.

Nephia applauded her hunting prowess with a grin.

She had taken Maria's bow and arrows without asking, which she knew was wrong, but she convinced herself that the prize would make the benevolent crime excusable. She pulled an arrow from Maria's quiver and drew the string of her bow. She recalled Maria's lessons. She had learned not only how to shoot the weapon, but also about the necessity of patience.

She sat and waited for her target. She listened quietly to the busy songs of birds and insects and found herself enraptured by the gentle flow of the stream.

The fascination soon faded as the wait seemed to go on for ages. In truth, only an hour's time had passed, but Nephia was young and grew more restless with every passing second. She quickly began to reconsider her plan.

Perhaps Maria wouldn't be pleased with the prize after all. Nephia considered the fact that in all their time together, Maria had never brought home a single deer. She wondered why that was. Could it be that perhaps Maria simply didn't like venison?

In the corner of her eye, the young princess thought she caught a glimpse of something gliding in the bushes.

She slowly, and carefully, turned her head to look.

Standing nearly a stone's toss away, scanning the area with both eyes and ears, was exactly what Nephia had been waiting for.

The deer had no antlers and was too big to be a fawn. It was clearly a doe, and it slowly began to creep its way to the stream—well within the range of her bow.

Nephia stood with mouth open in surprise.

This was too easy.

Quietly and slowly she turned her body, trying her best not to frighten the deer. It hadn't noticed her, and as she approached, Nephia marveled at its beauty. She admired its gleaming black eyes, its gorgeous long lashes and delicate, nimble limbs. Somehow, it looked familiar.

That was when she felt the twigs snap beneath her feet.

The deer jerked instantly, responding to the surprising sound. Nephia panicked and let her arrow fly. Though an accident, it managed to successfully hit its target.

The deer shook the stillness of the forest as it tore through the brush, sprinting away into the safety of the clustered trees.

Nephia couldn't quite make out where she hit the deer. Obviously, it was still alive. She fumbled as she reached for another arrow. When she looked up, she cursed to herself, realizing the deer was already gone.

From behind her came a familiar voice, "What are you doing?"

Nephia gasped.

Maria once again donned the hood of her green cloak and appeared just as ominous as the day they met.

"Maria! You startled me!" Her voice then filled with pride. "I was out hunting, and I shot a deer!"

"You shot a deer? With my bow?" Maria was hesitant to ask.

Nephia looked at her hands sheepishly, "Oh, I hope you don't mind that I borrowed it. Please don't be upset! I was just trying to—"

Maria appeared very concerned now. "Where is it?" she asked.

Nephia walked over to where she last saw the deer."I'm not sure," she said pointing out into the trees. "I was just about to go after it."

Maria followed the trajectory of Nephia's arrow. Crouching low in the grass she found traces of dark, black blood. She shook her head and sighed.

"Not yet. If we go chasing after it now, it will simply run faster and even further away, making it nearly impossible to recover."

Maria stood from the ground, still studying the blood on her fingertips. Her tone became dreadfully serious.

"We'll track the deer later. First, we need to talk."

Chapter VIII

The Test of Friendship

Nephia quickly learned why Maria never took her hunting for deer.

Maria explained in great length how hunting deer for food was essentially unnecessary. Living alone, she didn't need much meat. Small game and birds were quite plentiful and suitable for her modest diet. But even these she rarely ate unless she needed their bones or fur. In fact, the only reason she started hunting regularly was mostly to feed the princess.

Nephia learned that Maria preferred to hunt rabbits because there were so many. Rabbits were always plentiful, much easier to clean and cook, and their valuable furs could be used for clothing or blankets.

Maria then continued about the noble spirit of the deer. She revealed that she did in fact hunt them, but only occasionally, and only when she counted more than an expected number in the woods. Apparently, she had been keeping count of the deer for quite some time. She even gave them names. Nephia hadn't realized that, before she arrived in the forest, these animals were, in fact, Maria's dearest friends.

There was no need for Maria to explain any more. Nephia understood what she had done. Though out of ignorance, it was clear their friendship was now tainted.

The guilt slowly began to sink in.

From now on, things would be different between them.

*

The morning passed quite slowly. Neither one ate. Neither one spoke.

Nephia tried to take a nap to escape the long wait, but she lay in bed wide awake. She knew that soon she would have to go find her slain deer.

She imagined it laying in the grass, slowly dying. She could see it suffering, its belly rising up and down, and then suddenly still. She imagined the buzzing flies and maggots writhing in its flesh.

She didn't want to find it.

Maria came to wake Nephia without any hint of friendly affection. Maria was focused now on finishing the job the young princess had foolishly started.

Maria led the way to the trickling stream, then to the spot where she had found the bloody arrow. They followed the animal's trail for what seemed to be hours, and now the sun in the sky was moving further to the west.

Nephia followed Maria for hours deep into the woods, much further than she had ever been. The sun now barely peeked its way through the leafy canopy above and, as the forest grew more dense, she began to suspect that she was trespassing through an ancient ground yet to be touched by man.

The earth beneath her boots was much softer now, and she noticed the appearance of the trees themselves had become quite different. They had sharp needles for leaves and were much darker in color. Their thick, twisting roots stretched far and wide, and growing amongst them were the lacy fronds of delicate ferns and endless beds of green clovers.

As they walked, the wilderness seemed to gradually grow taller and wider. The massive trees became living pillars that seemed to reach forever into the sky. They were so thick, it seemed that some of them would easily take ten men, arm-to-arm, to fully wrap around their colossal trunks. Their sinewy maroon texture was soft and moist, and from the bark of these ancient giants, Nephia could detect the faint aroma of sweet enticing spice.

Suddenly, Maria paused. She drew her hand to stop her young companion from taking another step. She raised her finger to her mouth, signaling for silence.

"What is it?" Nephia whispered.

"Listen," Maria pointed with her finger as if there was something traveling in the air.

The pair had come to a point where the forest met the mountain. Behind the rows of trees were giant scattered rocks, and the moss covered face of the layered earth itself. Nephia looked out into its many crevices and ridges, listening carefully for the echoing sound.

Initially, she heard a soft muzzled, ruffling sound that resonated against the massive mountain. Then, for a moment, all went silent. Seconds later, she heard it again—this time it was a loud, throaty grunt.

Maria's hands formed fists. "I knew this would happen," she whispered to herself.

"Is that...? It sounds like bears! A mother and... a cub!"

"Yes," Maria answered, pointing beyond to a pair of feasting bears.

Though the two girls finally found Nephia's wounded deer, it was clear that it had already been claimed by the wild.

"Come on," Maria whispered, "let's head back before they spot us."

Without any warning, there came a loud crash that shook the earth below their feet. The whole forest around them seemed to quake from the impact.

"Giant stones are raining from the sky!" Nephia cried, clearly startled by the rumbling earth.

"This is no storm," Maria assured her.

Between the trees, the hunter could see the source of the thundering boom. She let out a sigh.

"I was hoping we wouldn't run into him here."

The rock had landed right atop the deer, burying it beneath its weight and nearly crushing the pair of bears with it. The baby cub began to wail wildly in fear. His mother let out a ferocious roar.

With her ears drawn back, she flashed her monstrous teeth. She stood up tall on her hind legs, looking out to the attacker that had interrupted her meal. With her massive jaws open wide, she let out another deep, threatening roar.

Nephia wondered who Maria was talking about. Her eyes followed the bear's line of sight and there, atop the stone cliff above, stood an unbelievably tall muscled man dressed in a fur loincloth. His gray exposed body was inscribed with dark, enigmatic tattoos.

The massive figure dropped down from the rocks above, giving Nephia a better view. Again, she could feel the earth tremble beneath her feet. She quickly realized that this was no man. This was a giant.

The mother bear charged at him, huffing and growling as she drew closer and closer.

The hulking behemoth raised his arm to meet her raging attack. He caught the grizzly sow easily with one hand; then with two, he lifted her over his head and tossed her aside, slamming the beast into the face of the stone cliff.

The giant's bald head quickly turned in Nephia's direction. She could see now that his gray body lacked hair, and his ears were quite long and pointed. She noticed now, just like his body, that his face was tattooed as well. Most surprising of all, however, was the fact that just above his nose, he had a single, massive eye in place of two.

"I can smell you, human!" his voice boomed.

Nephia stood, too frightened to move. She realized he was talking to her.

"You've wandered far from home," he announced, approaching the frightened girl. "If you have come seeking death, then you have certainly found it!"

He turned to face the source of a familiar scent.

"Maria?"

His voice had lost its hostility.

"What are you doing here?"

Nephia was confused. Was this monster, who had so easily slew a mighty bear with his bare hands, another of Maria's friends?

Maria approached the monster and spoke, "The deer strayed from us, Praedos. We've come to collect it."

"Collect it?" the cyclops laughed. "There isn't much left to collect! You usually don't come this way, Maria, and especially not for deer. I know you, Elf-child. You are careful and considerate. You wouldn't dare shoot a deer so heartlessly in its belly."

"And you usually don't slay entire families," Maria replied looking upon the mother bear, lying motionless next to the deeply cracked rock.

The young bear cub shrieked. It crawled over to Nephia who felt immediate empathy for the innocent creature.

Did the poor cub understand? Did it realize now it was all alone?

Nephia gently picked up the orphan cub and wrapped it in her arms. Its paws and mouth were still red with the blood of the doe she had struck with her fateful arrow.

"Don't get attached, human," the giant thundered. "He is young and without a mother now. He needs to be put out of his misery. By our law, he belongs to me."

The cyclops reached for another stone.

"Tell your human friend to put him down, Maria, before I crush them both!"

When he looked over to the hunter, he was surprised to find she had her bow drawn, arrow pointed in his direction.

His eyes narrowed in anger.

"Have you lost your way, Elf-child? You are breaking the Oath!"

Maria held the bow firmly, taking aim.

"You must drop the boulder, Praedos."

The cyclops cried out furiously, "You know I am the Master of these woods! You have no right to challenge me!"

"This arrow says otherwise," Maria declared, nodding her head to draw attention to her weapon.

"You know my skin is as hard as stone!" Praedos warned, "If you miss, I will crush you and eat both you and your little human friend!"

"You know I don't miss, Praedos," Maria replied. "I can release this arrow and leave you blind before you can even think of throwing that rock."

Praedos roared. His thunderous cry awakened the mother bear that slowly began to move and growl in pain.

"I know you, Praedos. You don't want to hurt me, and I have no desire to hurt you. We're leaving now. Let us go in peace."

Praedos sighed and lowered the stone to his side. "I'm taking the mother bear, Maria. You know that is the way."

"I know, Praedos. But we leave with the cub," she said as she lowered her bow.

"Take the hopeless animal then and be gone!" he barked. "He will be mine soon enough. Go now, before I change my mind!"

Maria grabbed Nephia by the arm. "Let's go."

Nephia turned back to watch as Praedos walked over to the dazed and stumbling bear. With his mighty rock still in hand, he raised it high into the air and then slammed it ferociously into the bear's skull.

Nephia let out a fearful gasp. She had never seen such cruelty. She held the cub closer to her chest as she whispered, tearfully in its ear, "Oh, little bear!"

She covered his face with her hand.

"I'm sorry!" she whispered. "I am so sorry!"

*

The journey back to Maria's cottage was an unpleasant one. Both had been quietly wallowing in their own bitter reflections.

Nephia carried the little bear, hoping his soft fur would cushion her from her guilt. She had tried to find some comfort from Maria, but she was terribly quiet and completely unresponsive. Nephia could tell that she was very upset.

Nephia realized she made a mistake. She realized the suffering doe was her fault. The confrontation with the cyclops was her fault, as was the death of the cub's mother.

She was hoping to find some kind of forgiveness for her mistake, and she felt the only one who could give it was Maria.

Nephia apologized over and over again, and every time Maria offered her no response. The silence was killing her. Nephia wanted Maria to yell at her, or even strike at her—anything to just feel acknowledged once more, to know that they were still friends.

She tried apologizing yet again.

"I'm sorry, Maria!" she pleaded.

Without looking back at her, Maria finally replied, "I know, Princess."

A response! Finally, Nephia thought. Now Maria would forgive her, things would go back to normal, and they could go back to being friends!

Suddenly, Maria stopped.

Nephia stopped, too, trying to hide her grateful smile.

Maria turned and walked back to Nephia without looking her in the eyes. She ran her hand along the small cub's fur and gently scratched him behind the ears as she spoke.

"I, too, am an orphan, Nephia," she began as if talking to the cub. "I found this place and made it my home. These are my friends—my family. The forest, however, can be a very lonely place if you don't belong."

She stopped and put her hand on Nephia's shoulder. Still, without looking her in the eyes, she said, "It is clear to me now, Princess. You don't belong here. You are human, and the forest has no place for you."

She carefully took the small bear from Nephia's arms and turned back towards her home.

"Leave this place, Princess. Leave us in peace."

Nephia watched as her only friend walked further and further away through the line of stretching trees. In the distance, she could hear the orphan cub cry.

The young princess stood, once again, all alone.

Chapter IX

Troll Hunt

"This is where the farmer saw it."

"How do you know?" Bovi asked, his warm breath appearing as vapor.

Leuco was dressed in layers of thick furs. He crouched down and pointed to the muddy tracks on the frozen ground. "These prints are too big for regular folk, don't you think?"

Bovi began to shiver, but not from the chill of the bitter wind.

The large tracks in the snow didn't match the patterns of any four-legged creature.

Caves in the eastern hills were known to host all sorts of frightening beasts, and not just wolves and bears. Bovi had heard stories of other sinister creatures as well—hordes of hobgoblins and trolls from the neighboring Badlands that were said to live deep in the caves of the Bordering Mountains. It was said that in the dead of night, these ghastly creatures would come out to prey on the flesh of humans.

For young Bovi, the frightening stories of ravaging trolls were all too real.

With his eyes closed, Bovi could see their dark green skin, their frail hunched-over bodies, and long, wiry arms dragging low to the ground. What disturbed him most, however, were their haunting, beady eyes—glistening yellow globes shrouded in the shadows of their crooked, jagged brows.

He tried to shake the haunting image of the monsters from his mind. The mere thought of them made him sick to his stomach.

Bovi tried his best to keep up with his armored guardian, making sure to follow close behind for safety.

This was not an easy task.

Though he had become much older and traveled in heavy packs of snow, Leuco still moved with the strength and speed of the valiant hero Bovi was introduced to as a small boy.

That was six years ago, and since then Bovi had been allowed to help out the old warrior on a few odd jobs for extra silver. This, however, was the boy's first outing on a troll hunt.

Trolls had recently become good business in Veredon, especially during the long winter. Brigandine officials started offering generous bounties for their ears, and whatever other parts hunters recovered could be sold to the local apothecary for a very decent price.

Leuco didn't keep much of his earnings. He only kept what was necessary to keep his farm running. Much of the money he earned was sent to Cimmie, and often, Leuco would give the troll ears to help his neighbors in need.

Bovi wasn't sure he liked giving away so much, but he certainly admired his mentor's generosity. Most of the farmers in their area, like Bovi, were migrants from Valinon who had fled to escape the famine, floods, and religious persecution devastating their kingdom. Many were ill-prepared for the unforgiving winter and, without Leuco's help, many would have died from hunger.

"There's more this way," Leuco said, pointing to the tracks on the ground that led up the hills at the foot of the tall, rocky cliffs. "Looks like two—maybe three... and it looks like they came this way from up the hill."

He stopped a moment and pointed up the nearest mound of soft, white powder.

"There must be more tracks up this way. Why don't you go check it out?"

Bovi took labored breaths as he trudged through the deep layers of snow, which now were clear up to his knees. Somehow he mustered the strength to reach the hill's summit, and from there, he looked out unto the quietly sleeping countryside below.

Far ahead to the north, he could see the tall spires from the forests at the foot of the majestic, ice-covered peaks. To the east and west, far below in the slumbering valley, he envied the rising smoke from the chimneys of his neighbors' few sparsely scattered homesteads; down to the south, beyond the hills, he could make out the far-away guard towers of Ursidor's humble keep.

At the base of the neighboring hill, covered in a blanket of snow and surrounded by a pair of leafless, skeleton trees, Bovi saw a pile of large, disturbed stones protruding from the surface. Hidden underneath these rocks appeared to be an entrance to a small talus cave.

The air thickened with a faint pungent scent, something Bovi struggled to describe. Whatever it was, it smelled a lot like goat dung—very, very nasty goat dung.

Bovi didn't see any tracks of cleft hooves in the snow.

"Leuco!" he called. "I think I found something!"

Leuco now stood beside him.

"Good nose, Bo!"

Bovi smiled. He had grown much taller, and his hair had grown long since he moved to the hills. His tanned body was lean, but strong, with the conditioning of strenuous country labor. He carried a large pack strapped across his shoulder, and in his hand was a long spear—the first real weapon Leuco taught him to use, and the one with which he had become most comfortable.

He held his spear with two hands now, tightening his grip. He was about to run down the hill when he felt Leuco's hand upon his shoulder.

The old warrior shook his head. "Not yet. It's not wise to enter their den. We wait for them to come out. Then we strike."

"But I thought trolls only come out at night?" Bo asked, hoping he was wrong.

"Most of the time, yes. You must remember, Bo," Leuco added, tapping his temple, "your blade is not your only weapon. We are the hunters and, as such, we must first come up with a plan of attack."

*

At dusk, the early evening sky was lit by the pair of glowing moons that hung low beneath the stars. The closest moon was pink and had long bands of what appeared to be white airy clouds. The second was much smaller, and its cratered surface looked as if it were made of gleaming turquoise. Together, they cast a soft, playful blanket of lavender moonlight over the Northern Hills of Veredon.

Leuco and Bovi hid behind one of the giant monoliths, a safe distance from the discovered cave. They sat silently, watching and waiting in the shadows. They had whispered all afternoon and now, as they watched the floating snowflakes gently fall upon their open palms, their conversation had waned to a silence. Then, after hours of waiting in the bitter cold, they heard a startling sound coming from within the cave. It was a guttural sound like that of a grunting, sickly pig.

"Is that them?" Bo asked uneasily.

Leuco signaled for silence by pressing his finger against his lips.

Bo carefully watched the cave's entrance. He began to question whether he truly wanted the wicked creatures to appear or not.

Suddenly, there was movement. A dark, giant figure emerged from the cave sniffing savagely.

It was just as Bo remembered. Its bright yellow eyes pierced through the shadow of night. Its ears twitched back and forth like the antennae of a cricket.

The troll could sense that food was near.

Bo mouthed the word, nodding his head silently, "Now?"

Leuco shook his head. He showed Bo two of his fingers, then pointed to the troll.

Bo counted with him as he saw another figure emerge from the cave. Great, Bo thought. Now there were two.

Leuco could see the presence of the second troll made Bo uneasy. He hoped he didn't make a mistake bringing him along for the hunt. Sooner or later, he knew the boy would have to overcome his fear.

Leuco crouched closer to Bo, wielding a large battle axe in his hands. In his lowest voice, he whispered, "Get behind that rock and light the torches."

Bo recalled Leuco's plan and immediately set to work. He pulled out a prepared torch from his pack and covered it with a small bunch of kindling on the ground. He then drew out his flint and steel and nervously began to scrape the two together.

The scratchy clacking caught the trolls' attention. They sniffed about, recognizing the smell of their favorite meal. The second troll let out a pair of primitive grunts that together formed a single word.

"Hu-mans."

Bo concentrated on his work. Around him he could hear the frightful howl of one creature, and then, moments later, the sound of the second joining in unison.

Shivers ran down Bo's spine. He looked to Leuco for support but found the old warrior had suddenly disappeared. He hoped he hadn't gone too far away. Bo was scared, but he tried his best to stay focused on the task at hand.

Clack! Clack! Clack!

Suddenly, the trolls' howling stopped.

Puzzled by the awkward silence, Bo stopped his work to listen. He tilted his head to better hear the eerie stillness of the night.

That was when he discovered one of the trolls crouching on the rock above him, claws poised and ready to strike.

Bo let out a frightful gasp. He felt the warm splatter of blood spray across his face. With his eyes closed, he stood motionless, fearing the worst.

Bo opened his eyes, first one, then the other, just in time to see the troll fall from the rock onto the crunching snow. Leuco's battle axe was nestled deep in the troll's chest. The old warrior quickly pulled it free and chopped the troll's head off, splattering black ooze upon the thirsty snow.

Raising his bloody axe from the ground, Leuco turned to Bo and shouted.

"Get those torches lit!"

Almost immediately upon finishing his words, the other monster came crashing into Leuco, tackling him to the ground. The troll was now on top of him, slashing furiously with its claws. On his back, Leuco used his axe to shield his face from the creature's fierce attack.

Bo collected himself and quickly set back to work.

Clack! Clack! Clack!

Still, there was no spark.

He tried again, looking back at Leuco, who by now had gained the upper hand.

Clack! Clack! Clack!

In the corner of his eye, Bo could see the shadows shift around him.

The other troll, or what was left of him, was slowly stumbling about. The bloody body was now on all fours crawling in search of its missing head.

Bo knew that sooner or later the decapitated monster would come back to strike again. If he didn't get a fire going soon, he would have to face the creature alone. He desperately tried again to light the torches.

Clack! Clack! Clack!

Finally, there appeared a spark.

The kindle he set began to light and soon a small flame began to grow. He put his prepared torch to it, begging it to light.

It did.

The torch's fire grew quickly, and the warmth filled his heart with courage. He stood up with both spear and torch in hand, prepared to join the battle.

The headless troll nearby had no sense of direction. It stumbled about, crashing into boulders and tripping over the protruding rocks in the earth. It came very close to Bo, but he merely looked on in amazement, distracted at the revolting, yet comical sight.

"Bo!" Leuco's voice shouted from behind the rock.

Bo ran to find him, and when he did, he found Leuco already chopping the second troll to pieces.

"The fire, boy! Light the parts!"

Bo quickly did as he was told.

He found an arm, twitching on the thawing ground. He pressed his torch to the flesh, and the limb caught fire as if it was doused in Mostellarian oil.

Leuco had explained earlier why they needed the torches, but now, watching the creature burn, Bo finally understood.

The light of the flames reflected off the sheets of snow, making it easier to find the other pieces of bone and skin. After he set most of the scattered body parts on fire, Bo turned to look for more.

That's when the first staggering troll swatted the fire from his hand.

While Bo was busy preparing the torches, the monster had finally recovered its bloody head. The troll now carried it underneath its arm and, with the other, it grabbed Bo by the top of his skull.

The troll lifted the boy from the ground, piercing his skin, hissing in his face.

Bo cringed in fear.

The troll then let out a frightful moan, as Bo felt himself drop to the ground.

Leuco had saved him once again, this time cutting down the creature at its knees, chopping him down like a tree.

Bo watched as the troll's head rolled away from his feet. He looked at the crawling creature. He no longer felt fear. He longed to strike back at the monsters for what they had done to his parents. With his enemy laying harmlessly at his feet, now he had his chance.

Young Bo let out a furious cry and drove his spear straight into the troll's chest. Dark blood spewed everywhere from the wound like a gushing geyser. The monster gurgled in pain and grasped at the air with its curling claws.

Leuco caught the boy, now bathed in blood, with his arm.

"You really stuck it to him, didn't you?" he said with a smile.

Leuco took Bo's torch. He could almost hear the boy's heart racing.

"Slow down, and take deep breaths."

With his left hand, Leuco pulled the spear from the twitching monster and, with his boot, he kicked it to the ground. Then, he pressed the torch against the flailing body, engulfing it in flames.

The smell of burned flesh and smoke quickly stained the air. Leuco looked about, as if expecting more company. Bo began to look around as well, almost praying to find another to vent his rage.

"Well, let's collect what we can," Leuco said, clapping his hands together. "Pass me the sacks."

Leuco gathered the charred bits he could and placed them in the bags. He planned on trading much of it to the apothecary for medicine.

He let out a chuckle. "Not bad for a day's work, eh, Bo? True warriors face their fears and overcome them—and that's exactly what you did! You should be proud!"

He patted Bo on the back, applauding him for his vital part in their successful hunt.

Bo's mouth formed a fragile smile. His whole body shook nervously as he tried desperately to catch his breath. He had conquered his fears and felt something he had never felt before. He looked down at his spear covered in dark, black blood. His heart swelled with pride.

"Tell me," Leuco asked. "How do you feel?"

Bo opened his mouth to speak. He tried to express his feelings with words, but all that came was a steady stream of vomit.

*

Lurking in the darkness at the mouth of her mountain lair, the troll chieftain searched for the source of the howling, hungry cries below.

Already her brothers were claiming victims for their evening meal.

In the distance, she could make out curious flashes of light. As they became more steady and more intense, she realized she had been studying the burning torches of humans below.

A foul odor of burning flesh began to taint the crisp, winter air. Carried with it was the faint scent of an old familiar foe—one she had come to hate above all others.

Her eyes narrowed and, with her teeth clenched, she slammed her fist into the face of the mountain. Her claws drove deep into the earth beneath her feet.

She knew very well the lethal handiwork of Leuco the Hawk. He had already slain many of her kin, and now, more than ever, she was determined to make him pay.

She howled out to the night sky. Her savage cry echoed throughout the moonlit valley, stirring nightmares into the slumbering farmers of the white-coated hills below.

She vowed to turn them red with blood.

Chapter X

Na'balit

Hidden in mountains, high above Veredon's quiet farms and sleeping villages, there lay a deep crevice resting between a nest of giant boulders.

This was the entrance to a subterranean tunnel, formed by ages of trickling, melting snow. Its dark passageway lead directly to the belly of the Bordering Mountains—the monstrous womb of Veredonian nightmares.

The inner chamber was lit by campfire, though not at all adopted for its warmth, nor its light. The monsters within were fully capable of detecting radiated heat, and they had very little difficulty seeing in the dark. The blood in their veins could withstand extreme temperatures and had the uncanny ability to help regenerate severed limbs. Though the bright light of the fire stung their eyes and left them seeing spots, it was there by the request of their nefarious chieftain, Na'balit. She knew well how her lesser brothers feared the flames and how it helped to keep them in their proper place.

Na'balit was bigger than the other trolls, and well-versed in the dark arts of Witch Magic. As a veteran of the Dark Lord Rodin's army, Na'balit had fought fiercely against the heroes of Valinon. When Rodin's army of magic and monsters was defeated, Na'balit vengefully continued the war on man by terrorizing and murdering the local farmers in the hills of Veredon.

For a while, the surviving monsters enjoyed raiding the hills from their caves, feasting on the helpless humans without any threat of retaliation. That quickly changed when the Guardians of Valinon made their return.

Led by the mighty Ursidor, the soldiers built a fort to protect the region's people. They hunted the foul creatures in their caves, and soon Rodin's remnants suffered many losses.

For Na'balit's people, the conflict had become far too dangerous, and soon the tribes fled to their homes in the Badlands beyond the Bordering Mountains.

After years of absence, Na'balit and her tribe had finally returned, expecting to be at the vanguard of a new invasion. Her plans, however, were now jeopardized once again by the strength of the old Guardians.

Na'balit sat cross-legged, staring into the flickering flames, brooding in contempt. Around her, in the shadows, her smaller brothers had been fighting amongst themselves over the bloody carcass of a stolen goat. Their insufferable barking only added to Na'balit's fury.

"Calm yourselves!" She blasted. "I don't want you embarrassing us in front of the human!"

When they finally drew quiet and still, Na'balit sliced her palm with her knife, dripping her black blood into the growing flames. She drew from her pouch a handful of sparkling white crystals. Crushing them in her hands, she chanted in a dark tongue that added even more terror to her slithering voice.

She sprinkled the dusty grains from her open palms into the fire. The golden blaze slowly began to turn the color of bright emerald.

"Canidae," she called out to the dancing flames now illuminating the cavern with an eerie green glow. "I wish to speak with you."

In the past she would have gladly given her life, if only to end his. Now she communicated casually with her former nemesis through their shared practice of Witch Magic.

As a Guardian of Valinon, Canidae had caused her much grief and frustration. The two were once bitter enemies and, time and time again, her forces were defeated at his hands. Now she found herself conducting lucrative business with Canidae the Fox.

From the fire, there came a seething voice.

"I've told you before, Na'balit! You cannot contact me like this!"

The troll chieftain was well aware of his fear of being discovered as a mystic of Witch Magic. He had worked very hard to establish his pious image, and he was determined to keep it that way. Na'balit, however, couldn't care less.

"I have news for you, Canidae."

"News?" he returned. "There is no news! Not until I make it! You have a very simple task, Na'balit, and you have already been rewarded with many treasures from my royal coffers. All I ask is that you continue your attacks on the people of Veredon. Why is that so hard?"

"Yes, I know!" she retorted. Talking with humans was like pulling hair from her scalp.

"We have been doing so! But now I have lost two of my tribe..."

"Lost? What do you mean 'lost'? You mean they are dead?"

"Yes, that is what—"

"But trolls don't die! You heal yourselves! I know that quite well from experience!"

"Yes, but there are humans hunting us—one in particular who shares your experience. Someone you know very, very well."

The voice from the flame was now clearly upset.

"Well, who is it?"

"Your former ally—Leuco the Hawk."

"Leuco?" he asked. The news had come as a surprise. "But Leuco no longer serves Ursidor. They are both far too proud!"

"Nonetheless, he has slain two of my kind!"

"He is dangerous, Na'balit. He can ruin everything. You need to stay away from him."

The witch could hear the displeasure of her brothers spewing from the shadows. They demanded the hero's blood. She turned her head to meet them with her scornful glare.

The chattering quickly stopped.

"We crave vengeance, Canidae," she explained. "We want the traitor dead."

The trolls began to cackle sinisterly in the background.

"Is this about gold? I cannot give you any more! I have a war to fund! Besides, I will not pay you for simply avoiding a swift death. If you know what's best, you'll stay away from him. I will take care of Leuco, and when preparations are complete, you will have your revenge upon the humans of Veredon. That is reward enough, wouldn't you say?"

Na'balit refused to acknowledge the truth of his words. Instead, she decided it best to change the subject.

"And how go your preparations?" she asked.

"We have already begun construction of the siege weapons, and thanks to your efforts, many in the bordering villages have become mad with fear. Those that haven't joined us are already fleeing further to the west. Here in Valinon, my faithful followers are begging for war. They thirst for the blood of the nonbelievers."

"Don't worry," Canidae added. "Keeptown will surely fall, and the land of Veredon will soon know the truth of the holy word of Xenos. Just remember your task. Ursidor is unaware of my plan, and I'd like to keep it that way. And Na'balit, please don't call on me. Remember, I am the one who calls on you."

The flame flickered from bright green back to its natural copper. Na'balit's reflecting yellow eyes narrowed. She didn't appreciate the condescending tone of the human's voice.

One of her brothers, Da'hij, came beside to speak to her.

"I don't trust the human. He was once our hated enemy, a Guardian like Leuco. Now he turns against his own? This Xenos is but a mask for his true desire: power. Like Rodin before him, he will never have enough. He is truly a greedy fox, this one!"

Na'balit sat thinking, captured by Da'hij's words. She knew he spoke the truth but, as chieftain, she could not tolerate such wisdom from her lesser brother.

Venting her frustration, she turned and slapped him across his face. She threw him to the ground and shouted, "If I wanted your opinion, Da'hij, I would have asked for it!"

She opened his mouth with her claws and quickly ripped out his tongue. She threw it into the fire as the other trolls lowered their heads in silent submission.

"Canidae may be crooked, but he commits crimes against his human brothers. He is an enemy of our enemy, and he pays us well. That makes him our ally."

Na'balit let her lips form a wicked grin.

"At least for now."

*

"They're far too reckless, Faiden."

Canidae turned from the smoking altar, wiping the fumes and smoke away from his nose with the back of his hand.

The two stood in the middle of what was originally the great sleeping quarters of King Cervusian. Unlike the former king, Canidae never slept. Thus, he turned the enormous stone chamber into his own private laboratory full of candles, flasks, and shelves of ancient tomes, scrolls, and secrets. There the beloved Patriarch and his loyal protege practiced their perverse apocrypha and sinister magic.

"I don't trust these creatures," Canidae added, tapping his chin with his index finger. "They may yet prove to be a liability. We must act before they ruin our plans. Better to tie up loose ends before they unravel our schemes. Gather the Immortal Guards, Faiden. I want Leuco eliminated."

Chapter XI

Answering the Call

The weeks quickly turned to months, and the months into years; in that time, Bo had learned much from his mentor. Leuco had taught the boy to read and write, and to protect himself with sword, spear, and axe. He learned about the dangerous creatures that lived throughout the realm and even those that lived beyond.

Although trained as both scholar and soldier, Bo felt like neither.

Many of Bo's days were spent breaking his back in Leuco's fields. He cultivated the dirt, planted seeds, picked fruits and vegetables, and tended the livestock. The work was endless, but Leuco was always quick to remind him of the great rewards.

Though a mighty warrior, at heart Leuco was but a peaceful farmer. He took great pleasure in restoring his grandfather's farm, and thus, bringing his fond memories back to life. In fact, Leuco's favorite pastime was taking his animals out to pasture, watching as they grazed on the valley's grassy fields.

Bo didn't understand how a fierce warrior could earnestly enjoy such simple, tedious work. Bo himself longed for a taste of adventure, and he loved to hear stories from Leuco's days as both young warrior and legendary Guardian of Valinon.

Leuco was well-aware of the boy's interest in his past. He tried his best not to romanticize his experience. As part of his education, however, Leuco wanted the boy to learn about the things he had not yet seen. After all, in the real world, knowledge would prove to be just as much protection as a sword and shield.

Still, there were many stories Leuco simply refused to share—many of which he had spent most of his life trying to forget.

*

Spring was in full bloom and the busy insects buzzed about their work traveling from one violet bell blossom to another. The bright colored wildflowers had sprouted all throughout the secluded rocky alpine valley, and they made luscious eating for Leuco's tiny herd of idle goats.

Young Bo, who had now grown tall and strong from his healthy country living, had finally finished threshing the dry Veredonian flax grass harvested days before. It had taken all morning, and his arms were sore from rippling the bundles of grains with his metal-toothed comb.

With his heavy bucket of flax seeds in hand, Bo shyly approached his guardian's house. His young thoughts had been weighing heavily on his mind for far too long.

Bo did not know how best to broach the subject to Leuco. He wasn't sure how the old warrior would react. Perhaps, he thought, it was best to just show him.

Leuco had been loading the wagon with the discarded bundles of flax shafts to be delivered to the linen draper in Keeptown. They weren't worth much, but every little bit counted for those who could one day be in need. Each trip to town also meant another visit to the Inn of the Dancing Moons.

Bo set his bucket on the ground and carefully drew from his pocket a parchment of paper. He had obviously kept it for quite some time. He had found it in the marketplace on their last trip into town and, since then, it was all he could think about.

Opening the paper, he handed it to his guardian and simply said, "I found this outside Raco's the other day..."

The old warrior knew exactly what it was. The drawing of a valiant Brigandine atop a mound of dead trolls and surrounded by bags of gold explained everything. He didn't have to read it to know it was a proclamation from Lord Ursidor calling for volunteers.

Leuco let out a deep sigh as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He had feared this day would come.

Without saying a word, he folded the paper and returned it to the boy. Then, he went quietly back to work tossing the bundles of grass from the ground into his cart.

Bo had learned the old warrior's habits and mannerisms well. He knew that continuing the conversation would be pointless. Instead, Bo returned to his tiring task, empty buckets in hand.

Later in the evening, young Bo cooked a pot of beans and vegetables for supper. He made sure to add lots of fresh kaleclover leaves, just as his guardian preferred. He hoped that would put him in a better mood.

Leuco entered and immediately stopped to check the boy's pottage.

"Looks as good as it smells," he commended, offering Bo a nod of approval.

Bo said nothing. He served two bowls and sat silently on the floor before the fire, waiting patiently for the right time to continue their conversation from the morning.

Leuco brought it up for him.

"So," he began, sitting in his chair across from him, "You wish to join the army of Keeptown and become a 'brave' Brigandine?"

"I think so," Bo replied sheepishly.

"You think so?" Leuco began, testing the boy's certainty. "Have you learned nothing from my experience? War is not a game, Bo. Gold and glory come at a very high price. They are bought with both blood and tears. The horrors of war always take their toll on a man's spirit."

"But you don't regret being a soldier, Leuco. Do you?"

Leuco took a moment to sigh.

"I've witnessed many things, Bo. I've seen things you couldn't even imagine—places so beautiful, it makes my heart ache just to think of them. But, I've also seen the pools and piles of blood and death from battle—scenes I don't have the words, nor the desire, to describe."

Leuco pointed his spoon to his golden axe resting on the wall. Bo knew the legendary weapon well. He had memorized many of its most glorious stories.

"That weapon there is a tool of death and mutilation," he began. "There is no beauty in violence; there is no grace in combat. There is only destruction. I have lost many friends and have slain more than I dare to count. Fighting with monsters, Bo, only makes monsters of men."

"But you are a hero!" Bo argued. "You are no monster! You protect the people! You rescued me from life on the streets, and you've taught me—"

"I've taught you to be a man, Bo—and a good one at that!" Leuco put his hand on Bo's shoulder. "I've spent my life trying to be a hero only to discover I've become just the opposite. Now that I am older, I don't think much about fighting." He looked around the small room, "This is all I want: just a simple life in peace and maybe a sweet and honest woman to keep me warm at night. When you get older, you'll come to want the same things too."

Bo was quiet a moment. He knew Leuco was talking about Cimmie. He never considered how lonely he must have truly felt.

Bo tried to choose his words carefully, just as he had been taught. Finally he spoke. "There may be peace here on the farm, Leuco, but you know very well of the threats that linger beyond our fields. Why does Ursidor raise an army? Why do the trolls still raid the hills? And what of the zealots of Xenos? You've warned me about them yourself! You've spoken many times of their intolerance and fear, claiming that one day the realm would be driven to war. You say things are only going to get worse and yet you won't let me do anything about it!"

Leuco was upset. He rarely raised his voice, much less lose his temper.

"There may very well be a war, Bo, but I cannot continue to fight battles for kings I don't respect! Even if I chose a side, I still wouldn't fight! I've fought all my life, and for once—for once! I would just like to simply enjoy some peace and quiet!"

Bo tried to calm him. This was obviously a sore subject for Leuco. Bo swore he saw tears building in the old warrior's eyes.

"And you deserve it, Leuco! That is your choice! That is your life! But it's not mine! Don't I deserve the chance to continue the fight? Shouldn't someone fight to defend those that cannot defend themselves?"

Leuco wanted to ask him why, and ask him what fight he thought he was seeking to continue. Did the young boy even know? He wanted to challenge and argue every word. Deep within his heart, however, he already knew the response.

After a long pause, the old warrior finally spoke.

"I, too, was once like you. Perhaps, somewhere within this old body, I still am. I once craved adventure and excitement. I suppose every generation feels the need to take up arms in the face of evil. Perhaps that is the only way to truly appreciate peace. I used to feel what seemed like the weight of the world on my shoulders. Over the years, I've learned it was only the weight of my head. I've learned my lessons, Bo, but perhaps it is time you learn yours. I suppose there are things you can't learn from merely tending chickens and planting seeds."

Leuco let out a great sigh and pointed his spoon at the young boy. "You've learned much, Bo. I'm sure you will be able to take care of yourself. Tomorrow, we will head into town to sell our bundles to the draper and get our flax seeds tilled. If in the morning you still wish to join the militia, I will not stand in your way."

"Thank you!"

Bo picked up his spoon and shoved a great scoop of stewed pottage into his mouth. At that moment, as if by an act of magic, Bo's pottage instantly became the greatest supper he had ever eaten. He spent the rest of the evening with a broad smile stretched clear across his face.

Leuco, however, could only sit silently and stare into his bowl. Moments ago he was hungry. Now he couldn't eat.

The young boy across from him was not his son; and even if he was, he had no right to tell him how to live his life.

In his stomach, the old warrior could already feel the familiar ache of regret.

Chapter XII

Keeptown

Early the next morning, before making their way to Keeptown, Leuco bid Bo to come help him inside the house.

"I hope you had a good night's sleep," Leuco warned. "It may very well be your last for many moons. Parnon's barracks can be quite the roughhouse."

Bo shook his head.

"I'm not worried. In fact, I'm looking forward to living with the others and making new friends."

Leuco offered a slight grin and nodded. In his youth, he too felt the yearning for companionship and adventure.

"Speaking of which," Bo continued, "last night I had a very peculiar dream."

"Trolls again?" Leuco paused before entering the house. "I thought you stopped having those nightmares?"

"I have! This dream was different," Bo pointed out below the hills. "I was walking down in the valley. There, standing alone amongst the wild flowers, I saw a wild mare. It was as white as the clouds and as beautiful and majestic as the running river. I was drawn to it. As I approached, it stood playfully and patiently, as if waiting for me. But when I reached gently to touch it, it immediately turned to flee. I followed after it, but it only ran further and further away."

"What do you think it means?" Leuco asked.

"I don't know," Bo shrugged. "I was hoping you'd tell me."

"They say our dreams, like the clouds, are nothing more than the abandoned schemes of the gods."

Leuco led Bo into the house, and then suddenly stopped.

"In my experience, however, I've come to believe that dreams are the mind's way of sharing the secrets the heart has yet to reveal."

Leuco then gestured to the wooden worktable on which he had laid out the contents of his old war locker.

Bo always wondered what treasures and stories he kept stored away in the forbidden chest. Now was his chance to find out.

There were all sorts of impressive swords and daggers, some more exotic in design and composition than the others. Leuco had kept a few decorated pieces of armor, including his famous wing-tipped helm, as well as various shirts of extravagant chain and plate mail. There were bags and sacks, stunning medals, and old worn-out scrolls scattered all over the table. There were also many other mysterious artifacts young Bo found strange and unfamiliar.

"I no longer have a need for these things," Leuco began. "They are merely memories of days past. I know you can't carry everything, but I will hold them for you, should you one day choose to return..."

"Of course, I'll return, Leuco!" Bo assured him as he put his hand on his shoulder. The two smiled, tacitly promising eternal friendship.

"I want you to take this," Leuco announced, as he handed over a thin leather shirt covered with rectangular strips of metal. "This cuirass is enchanted; it is designed to protect its wearer from arrows."

"Arrows?" Bo asked, studying the shirt.

"Yes. I am ignorant in the ways of magic, but I've been told the armor draws its powers from the strips. They are said to be from a rare, mysterious metal from beyond our realm. They've saved my life on many occasions."

Bo smiled. He had never held anything so fine. "Thank you, Leuco! I will cherish this..."

"Slow down, Bo. There's more. Give me your spear."

Bo had become quite attached to his spear. It was the first weapon with which he had learned to fight, and it was the weapon with which he felt most comfortable using. Though he was hesitant to give it up, Bo trusted Leuco and obediently handed it over to him.

Leuco set it aside and revealed from under the table a long, black metallic rod with a winged spearhead at its end.

"This," he announced proudly, "is the Dragon Tail."

Bo's eyes widened at the sight of it.

"It is said," Leuco continued, "to be crafted by an archmage of an ogre clan from beyond the Badlands. I claimed it as a prize in combat from an elite warrior of Rodin's Doom Brigade. It belonged to a fierce hobgoblin chieftain. Now it belongs to you."

Bo took it in his hands, measuring its weight and marveling at the strange rune inscriptions along its shaft.

"Its power is still unknown to me, but as I recall, it withstood my mightiest blows. Oh, and this is rather interesting..."

He took the spear from Bo's hands.

"See this? You just twist, and..." He split the spear into two. "You can put it back together by simply turning it. See? Just as strong as before! Rather fancy, I think."

"That's brilliant!" Bo took the weapon into his hands, marveling at the spear's balanced weight. He separated it once more."I don't know how to thank you!"

"Well," the old warrior replied, "you can start by trying not to get yourself killed."

*

After helping Leuco load up his horse-drawn wagon with sacks of stone ground flax seed, Bo said his final good-byes. Leuco didn't say the words, but Bo could tell the old man was going to miss him.

Bo watched and waved as Leuco drove away. He knew it would be impossible to be half the hero his mentor was, but he was nonetheless determined to try.

He stood outside the watermill for a moment, listening to the small rushing stream as it splashed off the great wooden wheel. Watching it turn, he realized that, once again, he was on his own. This time, he would get by, not as a thieving pickpocket, but as a respected soldier and defender of the kingdom.

Bo took a deep breath, savoring the wonder and exhilaration. He felt good. He felt clean.

This was the beginning of his own adventure.

*

It was still early in the morning, and the assembly of volunteers was scheduled to commence in the bailey of Ursidor's keep at noon. That left Bo plenty of free time to explore the town that he had once called home.

Keeptown wasn't a very big town. In fact, it was merely an intersection of three dirt roads lined with various shops, businesses, and homes. The road leading through Veredon and the heart of Keeptown held the marketplace, as well as most of the craftsmen's buildings. The road to Valinon was lined with merchants, vendors, and soliciting holy men. The third road, which led to both the western mountains of Helios and to the eastern Towering Titans, was full of tented businesses and traders aimed at cashing in on the wandering adventurer.

Bo could see now how much his old "home" had changed.

When Ursidor first arrived in Veredon, he immediately began to make a name for himself taming the rough, undeveloped land. With him, he brought along a band of soldiers and built a fort to protect the traders and homesteaders. He ordered roads cleared and dug canals for irrigation into the fields. In his short time, he accomplished much: he built a watermill for the people to grind their grains, a castle to defend them against invaders, and a community of craftsmen with a thriving economy.

The people of Veredon were grateful for such facilities, but they came at a great cost. Ursidor lacked the resources to pay for the advancements, and thus forced his people to help finance and build them. Compelled to submit to his might, many paid in gold to avoid the hard labor. Others who could not afford the tax were put to work. Though difficult, the projects were completed, and as a result Keeptown became a developed community, granting its residents all the comforts of the neighboring Valinon.

Whereas Veredon had become a thriving kingdom, Valinon had just begun its decline. This resulted in the migration of the impoverished, like Bo, into Keeptown. Everyday, Veredon grew as more people arrived from Queen Lara's crumbling kingdom. After the troll attacks, however, things slowly began to change. Fearing the return of the marauding hordes of monsters, people began to lose faith in Ursidor's rule. Many villages in the kingdom quickly disappeared as panicked townspeople packed their things to flee west once more.

Many, however, like Leuco and the other hardy pioneers who had come before him, refused to leave. These people had made homes for themselves in Veredon, and they refused to simply give them up out of fear.

Ursidor may have been their king, Leuco had said, but the land always belonged to the people.

Bo recalled the days long ago when he walked these same dirt roads, peddling for food and copper. At night, he would run with the dogs, chasing cats and mice, and pillage through the garbage for his evening meal. When it was late, he would sleep behind the weaver's shop because it was quiet there and relatively clean.

He didn't want to think what his life would have been like, had it not been for Leuco's good will.

He came upon a familiar building. The hanging sign in the front was tattered and cracked. Its faded words: Raco's Tavern—the very place where he met his charitable mentor. That fateful day, much like today, had changed his life. This, he thought, might be good place to start his journey. After all, a bit of strongwater would do well to calm his nerves.

By the front door there was another sign that read, "Keep your sword in its sheath and you can drink all you need!"

To Bo, this sounded very promising.

Chapter XIII

Strays

Inside the tavern, seating was scarce. All tables and chairs were full, and the bar itself was crowded with soldiers for hire as well as countless local villagers who had come to answer Ursidor's call for volunteers.

Bo stood just in front of the doorway, mesmerized by the scene of men of all ages singing and drinking merrily. He immediately felt a fraternity with these strangers and considered them all his fellow brothers in arms.

After receiving some bumps, and some very rude looks, he realized it was best to stay out of the way and seek himself a spot at the bar. There he found standing room next to, who had to be, the smallest person in the whole tavern.

This young boy with floppy white hair had been sitting there eating a plate of what looked to be the remains of a roasted rat.

Bo looked him over. He was not impressed.

Bo leaned on the bar, waiting patiently for the bartender to appear. He tried his best to appear tough and grim. He had never had strongwater before, but felt today was as good a day as any to throw down a horn-full like a real warrior.

Raco was a big, ugly fellow with short black hair on his head and a shaggy mustache on his face. Long, coarse hairs ran all down his neck and into his unkempt gray shirt that matched well with his filthy apron. He was at the other end of the bar, chatting with a scruffy old man who appeared to be his friend. They were in a boisterous conversation, stirring laughter all throughout the tavern. The two were debating whether it would be worthwhile to flee the perils of Veredon for the mountain kingdom of Helios.

Bo had difficulty getting the bartender's attention. He waved his arms wildly, all to no avail.

"Don't bother," he heard a voice say. "The food here isn't very good—"

Hiccup!

It was the scrawny warrior sitting beside him.

Bo looked over again at his plate of dead rat and replied, "Personally, I'd never come here to eat."

"The water isn't very good here either," the boy at the bar continued, picking at his food. "And you know something? I'm not so sure this is even a partridge!" Hiccup!

Bo chuckled and shook his head. "They don't serve water here, and they certainly don't serve birds either."

"Oh," the strange boy said, talking almost to himself. "So that's why they were laughing." Hiccup!

There was something quite particular about this character, Bo thought to himself. He could tell the young man had had a little too much to drink. He couldn't see his face very well behind his white shaggy hair, but it was clear he was quite young and quite thin. At his side, he carried both a short sword and dagger—both luxuriously elegant and quite the bait for any confident thief. He wore what appeared to have once been a fine cuirass of scaled leather riveted together like the skin of a dragon. It was a very tight fit, and the sleeves of the white shirt underneath clung quite high above his wrists.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Bo asked.

"Is it that obvious?"

"That's quite the suit of armor. Where'd you get it?" Bo asked, mostly so he didn't feel alone at the bar.

"My father gave this to me," the boy answered in a forced, gruff voice. He looked down, examining his own suit. "It seems—hiccup!—I've outgrown it a bit."

Raco finally arrived. Now was his chance, Bo thought. Time to order a drink like a man.

"Can I get some strongwater?" he asked, quite proud of himself.

The big man looked him over and shrugged. He wiped a wooden cup, filled it with the frothy liquid from a barrel across the bar, and slammed it down on the counter.

"What about you?" he asked the strange boy still poking at the bones on his plate. "Did you enjoy your wild 'partridge'?" He laughed aloud so the other patrons could hear.

"No, not really," the boy replied as he turned to stand. "But thank you anyway!"

He paused a second to collect himself then headed for the door.

"Oy!" The bartender called out. "You forgot to pay! No one leaves my tavern without paying!"

The young man stopped. He patted his pockets, looking for coins.

"I-I don't have any money," he shrugged.

Eyebrows from the other nearby patrons went up. They knew what would happen next.

Raco had a short temper and he didn't give credit or take any labor for payment. He only accepted coins and blood.

"You don't have any money?!" he shouted as he pulled a giant club from underneath the bar.

Bo felt sorry for the boy. He thought he had made a new friend.

Suddenly, Bo remembered Leuco had given him some silver pieces to help him on his adventure. He thought about what Leuco had told him about helping others: Compassion, he said, was the only thing that separated men from rats.

"Here," Bo tossed a silver coin on the bar. "I'll cover his food."

Raco picked it up and examined it. It was more than enough for two cups of strongwater and a plate of roasted rat. He tossed his club in the air, caught it with his hand and twirled it a bit for show before placing it back under the counter.

"That'll do, boys," he said, triggering a disappointed groan from his patrons. "Finish your drinks—then take your bleeding bags of bones out of my tavern!"

Bo looked over at his cup of strongwater, then at the white-haired lightweight walking out the door.

He suddenly wasn't thirsty anymore.

He caught up with the boy outside, who was still walking a bit awkwardly.

"Don't worry," Bo offered, "you can thank me later."

"Where—hiccup!—are you going?" the scrawny boy shook his head to clear the hair from his face. "Are you going to join the Brigandines too?"

The boy's deep, raspy voice changed. It was momentarily replaced with something much higher and almost soft and sweet. With his hair now out of the way, the boy's face was clearly revealed and, under the mid-morning light, Bo realized he wasn't a boy at all. His new friend was a girl.

"What are you staring at?" she demanded. Hiccup! She covered her mouth and giggled, "Oops! Seems like I've got the skips!"

This young girl, Bo thought to himself, had gone through a lot of trouble disguising herself as a boy. Now that he knew the truth, however, it was easy to see her delicate, feminine features.

She had fair skin—a far lighter shade of gold than those of the bronze people in Veredon, and her eyes were big and wide like that of a fawn.

"I know how to get rid of the skips," he replied.

Bo quickly realized he was talking to himself. He watched in amusement as the girl nodded her head to the sound of a beating drum.

Thump-thump! Thump-thump! Thump-thump! Thump-thump!

The road outside Raco's Tavern was bustling with people. In the distance, Bo noticed a man standing upon a wooden wagon shouting in protest of the assembly of volunteers. With his beating drum, he had attracted a small group of curious spectators.

Bo followed the strange girl, who was now dancing her way into the heart of the crowd.

She immediately stopped when she caught her first glimpse of the drummer. He wore a white robe and beat his instrument with a staff bearing the unmistakable Ankh of Xenos.

Bo saw her wily smile instantly turn to a savage scowl.

The zealous priest stood before the perplexed crowd, deliberately, and dangerously, debasing their king.

"Ursidor offers stale promises and yields nothing but grief and hunger! And now there are monsters freely roaming your lands, slaughtering your friends and neighbors! Look about you! Your king is helpless and your gods are absent! Where have they gone? They do not listen to your prayers! The gods of old have forsaken us, and they bring us nothing but calamity! Even now, talk of war is on everyone's tongue! Your priests speak the truth: the gods have already passed their judgment and all are doomed! But there is still one god who offers mercy! There is still one who offers salvation!"

Bo could see that many of the spectators at his side were growing offended by the speaker's provocative words, yet none were able to turn away.

"The faithful Followers of Xenos are rewarded eternal life after death! Xenos offers everyone this peace and that is why the Patriarch has sent us here, to welcome everyone to this world; a world without hunger, without fear, and without pain!"

"But be warned my friends! The souls of the non-believers bear the mark of judgment! Those that choose to stand against the righteous shall remain guilty before the gods! When their time comes, they will be mercilessly cast into the great darkness of Oblivion!"

Bo could see the young girl at his side grow more and more livid with every spoken word.

Still tipsy from strongwater, she began to disrupt the man's speech with loud, obnoxious jeers.

"Pig's dung!" she cried. "You people are but twisted sheep! The Patriarch—hiccup!— is nothing more than a cowardly villain!"

The zealot's face turned red as he raised his staff, as if threatening to strike. Instead, he took a deep breath and lowered his weapon to his side. Then he spoke in a calm, unaffected tone.

"What a shame!" he began. "This young fellow is clearly under the influence of strongwater, and yet he proudly insults our holy father! See how bitterly the nonbelievers turn against us? See their foul language and vile habits? Such lack of faith promotes beastly habits, along with a swift insufferable death! Xenos, however, is kind and gracious! He is forgiving! He loves you! All of you! He offers you life beyond the grasp of a cold, inevitable death!"

"Come on," Bo urged, holding the young girl back. "Let's get out of here!"

The priest drew out his drum once more.

"Listen!"

Thump-Thump! Thump-Thump! Thump-Thump!

He called out to the pair as they turned to depart.

"Can you hear that?!" he shouted. "That is the sound of your beating heart! That is the sound of your soul marching down the path to OBLIVION!"

*

The pair made their way up the steep sloping road to the main gate of Ursidor's Keep. It was not nearly as grand or large as the great citadel of Valinon, but its high stone walls were well-fortified and served quite well as a defensive post and symbol of authority. Long ago, it was merely a wooden fort built upon a hill to protect the peasants from marauding trolls. Now reinforced with towering walls of stone, it had become the commercial and administrative center of the small kingdom of Veredon.

Bo stopped and leaned against the stone wall before they reached the western gate. He pointed to the guardsmen atop the nearby drum tower above.

"You know, they won't let you in if they see you're drunk," he warned.

"I'm not drunk!" the young girl replied. Hiccup!

She covered her mouth.

"Just focus on your skips. You want to lose them, right?" Bo asked.

"Yes, but everyone has some silly trick their grand-mommy taught them to get rid of skips, and they never work!"

"You need to focus on them. Just wait for the skip."

Hiccup!

"Okay, now what?" she asked, not bothering to hide her doubt.

"Just tell me when your next skip comes. Is it coming yet?" Bo stepped in close to her, waiting as if to catch it in his ear.

The young girl blushed. She stretched her neck back in surprise.

"Are you going to... hit me?"

"Just tell me when your next skip comes," he replied. "Stay focused!"

They waited for a few moments. Then a few moments more.

"Hey! They're gone! How'd you do that?"

Leuco had taught Bo that trick long ago, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"It's just old Witch Magic I learned from my grand-mommy."

Nephia nodded her head, pretending to be impressed, "Witch Magic, huh?"

Now that they were on friendly terms, Bo thought it was time to draw out some answers.

"So, tell me," he began, "why are you dressed like a boy? You don't really plan on going inside, do you?"

The girl was caught off-guard. "Wh-what do you mean?" All this time, she had forgotten about her disguised appearance.

"I mean, who are you, really? What's your name?"

The strange girl began to cover her face. This boy, she knew, was clearly on to her. He seemed nice enough—not like the rest of the rogues and misfits she had been spending her time with lately. Perhaps if she told him her story, he could help.

"My name is Nephia. I'm a princess."

"'Princess?' You?" Bo laughed out loud. He couldn't shake the image of a drunken princess pretending to be a soldier. "More like a jester!" He shook his head and smiled. "You are too much fun!"

Nephia wasn't laughing. What he believed to be a joke, she took quite personally.

"Ok," he insisted, "If you really are a princess, why are you dressed like that? And what are you doing here?"

Nephia quickly looked over her clothes. She wondered what was wrong with her outfit.

Finally, Nephia replied, "I am here, the same as you—to join the volunteers—to be a Brigandine!"

Bo looked confused. He stammered, "B-But you're a..."

"...girl?" Nephia finished the sentence for him.

"I was going to say princess," he teased, "but..."

Nephia pushed him aside. She thought she had made a new friend. She obviously was mistaken. Perhaps she was better off on her own.

"I'm a good fighter—and from the look of it," she snapped, "most likely better than you!"

Bo was insulted. The proper response would have been a challenge of honor. Leuco, however, had taught him more than just how to fight. Though Bo struggled to classify Nephia as such, he had learned—no matter what is said or done—to never strike a lady.

"What's wrong? Are you scared?" She drew her sword—a finely decorated blade with a delicate serpentine hilt that gleamed of silver. It sang with a mystifying hum.

The girl was brave, Bo thought, but she was also recovering from the effects of the strongwater. Perhaps she wasn't thinking clearly.

"I won't fight you," Bo replied, his palms raised as he took a step back. "I don't fight women, or girls, or even girls dressed like boys."

"Besides," he added as he pulled out two black rods from his sides, swiftly joining them together, "it wouldn't be fair."

He held his spear low and pointed it in her direction, as if boldly awaiting her attack.

Nephia was not impressed.

"That's a weapon for battle fodder!" she laughed. "Do you even know what to do with that over-sized stick? Let me guess. You're planning to pick the meat from my teeth!" She raised her hand to her mouth, acting as if she were using a toothpick. She stopped and teased, "I'd run you through before you could even blink!"

Bo had no intention of fighting, and he didn't believe she truly wished to either. It was clear the strange girl was only trying to prove her skill. With his goodwill, Bo had won some degree of trust. Perhaps there was still a chance to tame her wild spirit.

Bo lowered his spear to the ground.

"Put your sword away, Princess. You don't need to show me your strength. I believe you, and I am sure you will make a fine addition to the Brigandines!"

Nephia narrowed her eyes. "Don't call me that."

"What? 'Princess'?" Bo asked. "But you said..."

"Just forget it, OK?" Nephia sighed as she placed her sword back in its scabbard.

"So how are you going to get in?" Bo asked. "The Brigandines don't usually take girls into their ranks."

"Then I'll just have to be a boy, won't I?" she said, as if stating the obvious.

"Right." Bo raised a single eyebrow and asked, "Well, what should I call you then?"

She gave him a look, as if he was supposed to know.

"I go by Nephio."

"Right."

It was very common practice for parents to name a child after the river of the valley. He was, however, expecting something a bit more subtle.

"Well then, 'Nephio'," he replied, "my name's Bovi."

"Bo-vee?" Nephia laughed. "What kind of backwards name is that?"

In the distance, from behind the stone walls, the two heard the blowing horns of Ursidor's heralds.

It was time for the assembly to begin.

"Ho! You two!" shouted a voice from above. It was a veteran Brigandine with a great halberd pike, calling from atop the bastion.

"Are you the dogs doing all that barking? If you're here for the conscription, you're going to be late! And trust me, boys, you two don't want to be late your first day!"

Nephia looked over to Bo. She feared he might reveal her identity and keep her from joining Ursidor's army.

Bo merely offered a shy smile. He realized it would be far better to begin training with a friend. After all, he thought, every good adventurer needs a partner to watch his back.

"We're on our way," he called back to the guard. With his fist in the air, he offered the soldier a pumped salute.

"Come on, 'Nephio'! We're going to be late!" He pulled her along past the stone walls and through the castle gate.

Nephia smiled. She freed herself from Bo's hand and pumped her fist, offering the guardsman above her very own playful salute. Then, she ran to catch up with Bo.

The two walked side-by-side into the bailey. And there, beneath the light of day, their compressed shadows appeared as one.

Chapter XIV

True Nature

Maria spent months raising the orphan cub.

She had taken the young black bear into the bushy meadows to find edible berries; she had taken him to the falls and rivers to catch fish. Together they scoured about ponds looking for frogs and toads and, on the banks, she helped him dig up mushrooms and find grubs. She led him up trees to find fruits and nuts within the leaves, and she did her best to point out the poisonous plants and edible fruits scattered across the forest.

Though Maria had never raised a bear cub before, she took great pride in her role as its mother.

Early one day, when the forest was still dim and lit with the ruby light of the rising sun, and the grass was still wet with morning dew, she took her bear cub deep into the woods and into a glade speckled with holes in the soil.

Maria set herself on a fallen tree and watched as, instinctively, the bear caught the scent of a burrowing mouse. He immediately began to sniff and dig for what soon become the first of his many breakfasts.

With his attention fully devoted to the hunt, Maria began to quietly creep away once more into the woods.

It pained the hunter to abandon her adopted bear. She thought of the fearful wave of uncertainty he would face when discovering he was left alone. She knew what it was like to feel incomplete; she didn't want to leave him, but she knew the time had come to set him free.

Maria began to run.

Tears filled her eyes as she recalled the frightful days of her youth: how she had first been abandoned by her own parents, her own people, and finally, by her own friends.

She finally stopped, leaning against an old tree to catch her breath. Her tears began to overwhelm her. Suddenly, she heard a familiar, thunderous voice.

"I wish to speak to you, Maria."

Maria turned, dagger now in hand. "Praedos!" she gasped. "What do you want?"

Praedos revealed himself from behind a nearby tree. He had no intention of startling her, nor had he come to fight.

"There's no need for that, Elf-child. I've come to seek your assistance."

"My assistance?" Maria wiped the tears from her eyes with her wrist. She didn't want the giant to see her cry. "How could I possibly assist you?" she sniffed. "And after our last encounter, why would I?"

Praedos had been following her for some time. He knew her well enough to know why she was crying. He, too, felt the stinging pain of isolation, but his was different. As Master of the Forest, living alone was simply his way of life. It was part of his being.

He would have offered her words of comfort in the past, but not today, and especially not after their last encounter. He was here for something far more serious.

"I see you've been busy, Elf-Child. But while you were mothering that little creature, my forest—our forest—has become endangered by humans."

Maria was suspicious, but she put her dagger away. She knew Praedos had a primitive tendency for petty, selfish emotions, but she also understood the cyclops's sense of faithful devotion to his home. He was the custodian of the deep woods—both hunter and guardian. The two were very much alike, and at one time, they were friendly neighbors. Things were different now.

"The Spirits have informed me of the destruction in the northern corner of the forest," Praedos explained. "It seems the entire area which you claim to protect from hunters and woodcutters is now effectively being reduced to stumps."

"Well," she said with a tone of frustration, "Why haven't you done anything about it?"

"You know I avoid contact with the humans. I cannot interfere, at least, not directly. You, however, have walked amongst them. Whether you like it or not, they are your kin and, as such, they are your responsibility."

"They are not my kin!" Maria replied, clearly offended.

"So you say. But still, the matter stands. They are destroying the forest we have both sworn to protect. You must find a way to stop them, or I will be forced to do so myself."

"Do it then Praedos!" Maria shouted. "I'm not getting myself involved with their kind! Not again!"

Praedos shook his head. "You don't understand—"

"Oh, I understand!" Maria interrupted as she stepped up to him. She looked him straight in his monstrous eye. "You want me to do your work for you! Tell me, Praedos: What have you done lately to protect the forest? You claim to be its Master, but when have you ever gotten involved? It seems to me, I'm the only one driving the humans away! All I ever see you do is hunt!"

Praedos's single eye glared. "You know above all others that I value life, Maria—even the life of humans. But now they have gone too far. My purpose here is to correct imbalance. The humans have upset the order by desecrating our home. If you don't stop them, then I will. And believe me, Elf-child, it will not be pleasant. I have avoided contact with humans, hoping they, like the animals, could contain themselves. You have kept them away from these parts, and so there was never any need for intervention. But if you insist on standing aside, I will be forced to deal with them in my own lethal way."

"You can't stop them," Maria argued, her tone now expressing concern."You are strong, Praedos, of that there is no doubt, but there are far too many humans in Valinon! They are clever and well-armed. They are dangerous! They will kill you!"

"I have no fear of humans! I, too, can be quite clever! And that is why I rather you find a way to stop them. If you do not, then I shall have no choice but to unleash the Dark Death upon them."

The words came off as a threat Maria struggled to comprehend.

"'Dark Death?' What are you talking about? What are you trying to tell me, Praedos?"

"The Spirits of the Forests demand balance, Maria," Praedos explained. "I am going now to the Towering Titans to seek a creature beyond the vision of man. This creature will do that which I cannot. It shall spread a fatal disease amongst their villages and towns. Many of your human kin will die a slow and miserable death."

From her silence, Praedos knew she at last was beginning to grasp the serious of the task before her.

"So, now you understand," he said. "My journey will take some time. I should return by winter, which I hope will be sufficient time for you to put an end to the subversion. If you do not stop the humans, rest assured, Elf-child, I will."

Praedos turned to leave.

Maria thought about the young princess and her ignorant, selfish tendencies. She thought about the people from Mostellaria who had forced her to flee to Valinon. She thought about her human father's death, and how her world had since been turned upside down.

"And if I refuse?" Maria asked.

Praedos stopped.

"Then they all die."

"Remember Elf-child," Praedos added, "You have until the first snow fall."

Maria didn't bother watching him go. She was lost in her own thoughts, torn by her mixed emotions.

Long ago, Maria fled her home trying to escape from the humans who bullied and tormented her after her father's passing. For years, she had lived a peaceful life protecting the forest from human destruction, free from their stares and persecution. She had lost all respect for them, and yet now she was expected to risk her life to save them.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She listened to the birds, the trees, and the sounds of life all around her. She stood, silently, as if expecting to hear an answer whisper in the wind.

The woods suddenly became dreadfully quiet and soon all she could hear was the beating of her own heart.

She made her way back to her cottage to prepare for the long journey ahead.

*

After signing their names on the registry, Bo and Nephia made their way to the group already assembled into the open grounds of the bailey. Dozens of young men from throughout Veredon had come to volunteer. There were three rows of twelve, and a final one with only ten. Bo and Nephia filed in line to fill the difference.

The grounds within the wall were covered with tents, lean-tos, straw huts, and wooden shacks filled with busy laborers. The sound of hammering and banging could be heard as the carpenters, blacksmiths, and other craftsmen toiled about on weapons, armor, and massive war machines. Bo marveled at an enormous crossbow being rolled out, larger than any cart or wagon he had ever seen.

The castle walls were adorned with great banners; the most prominent of which were the evergreen flags with the symbol of a black bear claw—the insignia marking the army of Lord Ursidor.

Standing above the young volunteers, high atop the interior walls, were many spectators—mostly curious veteran soldiers and members of Ursidor's court.

Leuco had painted a very ambiguous picture of the king. Sometimes he spoke about his past with respect and admiration. Most of the time, though, he complained about his abuse of authority and his sham of a marriage. Bo stood on his toes hoping to catch a glimpse of the legendary hero. It was well known that the King of Veredon made very few public appearances, and so Bo didn't want to miss his chance to see the former Guardian of Valinon for himself.

Bo watched as the great doors of the inner castle opened. Bo heard one of the volunteers cry out, "There he is! There's Lord Ursidor!"

Bo looked anxiously to find the mysterious king. He knew the sizeable man marching in the middle had to be him. The imposing warrior approached the crowd with his arms around a much younger soldier, whom Bo figured to be the king's son, Ruse.

The young prince had a somber look as he quietly made his way to his place at the forefront of the formation. He was dressed in a strapped suit of leather armor and was escorted by an older, eye-patched warrior who must have been one of the king's commanders.

Lord Ursidor stopped in front, his arms and torso adorned in a great suit of gold and green plated armor. Underneath, he wore a long sleeved shirt of chain mail and atop his head was a great golden helm, shaped to resemble the head of a roaring bear.

Seeing him now, fully dressed in armor, was an inspiring image for such impressionable youth. The volunteers stood in awe at their king, "Ursidor the Bear"—a title given to him from King Cervusian himself. In his glory days, as a Guardian of Valinon, he earned the reputation of being an unstoppable juggernaut on the battlefield. The volunteers now understood why.

"Welcome, brave young warriors!" the king opened his arms with a proud boisterous cry. "I have called for volunteers—brave defenders—to join our resistance against the forces that seek to destroy us. You, young heroes, have answered that call!"

He approached his new recruits, addressing each one as he spoke.

"Not so long ago," he continued, "the late King Cervusian and I fought together to unite the realm. We preserved these lands, freed them from the forces of evil, and restored the long forgotten peace. Now that peace we have cherished for so many years is under attack once more."

Ursidor paced back and forth alongside their formation. Nephia, who had been standing beside Bo recognized the old bear. He was always nice to her and, in spite of all the rumors, she never believed he was the one who killed her father. She recalled how he and her father were the closest of friends; and when her father passed away, Ursidor was always kind and gracious to her mother. That, however, was a long time ago and now the old Guardian looked quite different. Yes, he still retained the towering appearance of his past, but there was something clearly changed. In his expression, there was something sad—something missing.

She quickly looked away as he approached, hoping he wouldn't recognize her.

"The trolls from the north have returned, once again conspiring to destroy all that we have built. We have defeated them in the past, and we will do so again; but I must warn you, young heroes: these vile monsters are not the only threat we face, and surely not the worst!"

"There is a new villain who seeks to wage war against us—a deceitful snake who has strayed from his oaths. He claims to be a holy priest and yet he starves his own people and fills their bellies with fear and hate. He has them convinced that we are responsible for their misfortune because we do not follow their beliefs. Perhaps you have seen his Followers falsely promising peace and eternal life, all the while planning to wage war against us, calling for our death and the destruction of our homes."

The king turned and now paced in the opposite direction, raising his finger in the air.

"Let there be no doubt! A war is coming; and when it comes, you will fight to protect your homes, your families, your gods, and your very lives; and when those zealot monsters come trying to tear these walls, you're going to show them exactly what the Brigandines of Veredon think about their cursed Xenos!"

The young volunteers nodded their head, absorbing the king's every word, each imagining themselves in the armored uniform of an official.

"Now, today is only the beginning. As you can see, we are making all necessary preparations with supplies, strategy, and artillery. An army, however, is only as strong as its soldiers. Therefore, before you take your place on any battlefield, you must first be trained in the ways of the warrior. It will not be easy. In fact, from what Parnon tells me, it will most likely be quite miserable. However, upon completion, you shall all be well compensated and all of you shall receive the proud distinction and rank of a Veredonian Brigandine!"

Great cheers went up from the crowd. For many in the group, it was this very opportunity of joining the elite warriors that had inspired them to volunteer. In Veredon, Brigandines were quite powerful and prestigious, and their jobs came with basic privileges that many regular citizens lacked. Working for the king offered far more stability than working in the fields, and this opportunity lit their young spirits with dreams of gold and glory, and escape from their impoverished lives.

"So now, I leave you in the hands of Parnon, Headmaster of the Royal Guard." He stopped at Ruse and put both hands on his shoulders. "And I wish all of you the best of luck."

His subjects responded with great cheers. At first they were not sure what to expect from their much talked about king. After all, he was not particularly popular. However, after hearing from him, the young volunteers realized there certainly was a reason why he was king.

Ruse, however, couldn't look his father in the eye. He didn't believe a word of his father's speech. He knew the real reason why they were preparing for war.

It made him sick to his stomach.

*

Ursidor turned the corner, the great doors closing behind him. The rally had inspired the recruits, just as he had intended, but for him, it seemed to have the opposite effect.

Empedo—who served as both his personal guard and attendant—had come to help him out of his old suit of armor.

Without looking, Ursidor handed him his great helm. He was lost in his own thoughts.

He thought about the young boy he spied in the ranks with the ivory hair. It reminded him so much of Lady Lara. He thought about the daughter he believed to be murdered. She would have made a beautiful bride for his son.

Then he thought about Ruse. His son had always been distant, and obviously for good reason, but there was something different about him now. The boy had become much more morose.

"My lord, is something wrong?" Empedo asked, unbuckling his majesty's cuirass.

The king removed his breast plate and handed it to his guard. Ursidor tried not to dwell too much on his son's emotions. It filled him with far too much regret.

"They are so young, Empedo, and so few," he sighed.

Empedo tried to comfort him. "Yes, my lord, but that makes them all the braver. They have not forsaken their homes like the others. They hunger for the chance to avenge their families and they will fight with the reckless abandon of youth, just as we did once upon a time."

"Perhaps," Ursidor thought aloud. "But will it be enough?"

"Remember, my lord," he replied, "they are not up against the mystic sorcerers we ourselves fought, or even the legions of monsters that served the Dark Lord Rodin so many years ago. They are fighting—"

"—a Guardian of Valinon?" Ursidor finished his thoughts for him.

They paused for a moment, as if both stopped to consider how tragically things had changed. The two men were once heroes, celebrated heroes, bold players in a noble dream greater than any other in their people's history. They couldn't help but mourn its passing once more.

Ursidor was the first to break the silence.

"Canidae is a crafty sort. He always has been. He may have been devious in the past, but now, he has shown he can be heartless as well. He has turned against his oaths, Empedo. He has slain the very people he has sworn to protect! He has absolutely no scruples left, and with his intellect, you know he can prove to be just as dangerous."

"And what about Ruse, my lord?" Empedo asked.

Ursidor stared through the stone walls, again lost in his thoughts. He was imagining what he would do to Canidae on the fateful day when they should meet in battle.

"Hmm?" Ursidor reacted, completely unaware.

"Are you going to watch him in the contest, my lord?"

"The contest?" Ursidor repeated aloud, trying to make sense of the only word he had truly heard.

When he finally understood, Ursidor cringed. He had no intention of attending the opening contest. A wave of guilt suddenly swept over him. Perhaps it would be good for the boy if his father made a brief appearance, he thought to himself. It was the least he could do. After all, Ruse was expected to lead the young company of new recruits.

"Well," he sighed, "I am curious..."

He began nodding as he spoke.

"I think I'd like to see if our young prince has what it takes to be king. If bear blood truly runs in his veins, let us see then how he fares in a trial of combat!"

Chapter XV

Competition

"So this is the sorry lot that has volunteered to defend the kingdom!"

Old Parnon paced back in forth before the group of young warriors. He was dressed much like the other Brigandines, but wore a long red woolen cape with a bear claw brooch to keep it in place. He had a thin gray mustache, and on his chin, a sharp hairy point. He had a growling voice—much like the sound a dog makes when fighting for scraps. His most distinctive feature, however, was the eye patch on the left side of his face. Though how he may have received the wound was unknown to them, it was quite clear to all the young recruits that Parnon was well-acquainted with the ways of war.

"Well," he shook his head, "so be it!"

"My name is Parnon!" he shouted abruptly in his loud barking voice. "I am a loyal Brigandine and Headmaster of the Royal Guard. That means that I am your commander. You do what I say, when I say it!"

He stopped in front of one of the soldiers in the front and spoke directly to him.

"Understand?"

The young recruit had trouble looking him in the eye. He nodded timidly in agreement.

The Headmaster scoffed and paced again, this time to the back of the formation.

"My job is to teach you how to use your brain, as well as your weapon! You will learn how to fight as soldiers, not as wood-chopping, sheep-herding, root-pickers! Pay attention, work hard and you may just learn how to survive on the field of battle!"

"Today is day one of your training, which means we're going to start with a little assessment. Every company needs a leader, and leadership is only earned through respect. Soldiers only earn respect with skill and valor."

He stopped in front of Bo, who had been soaking up every word. Parnon could see the excitement and anticipation flaring in his eyes.

Bo couldn't wait for the chance to show off his skill.

"Today, you will have an opportunity to demonstrate what little skill you may think you actually have."

Parnon made his way to the side and shouted out to a group of men, standing beside a rack of quarterstaffs, "Pass out the fighting sticks!"

The king's servants appeared handing a staff to each recruit.

"The goal is to knock your opponent down to the ground. How you do it—that is up to you. The only rule is: once fallen, you are out of the contest. If we call you out, then you are out. Last one standing today immediately wins the rank of Brigandine and the right of leadership over the other recruits."

The young recruits all smiled, hoping to be the victor. They eyed each other up, measuring their competition.

"Now... prepare yourselves for combat!"

*

The recruits spread themselves out, careful not to leave their backs exposed. Many of them immediately gathered around Bo and his smaller companion Nephia, thinking the pair to be the weakest.

Bo's back met Nephia's as they faced their encircling opponents.

"And I thought they were going to throw us a feast," Nephia quipped.

"On the first day?" Bo asked. "Surely you're joking!"

"You know, an opening ceremony of sorts," Nephia smiled. "After all, we did volunteer for this."

"This is basic training!" Bo laughed. "It's not a wedding party!"

"Perhaps," she replied. "But this certainly is better than the last wedding I attended—there isn't nearly as much hostility here!"

Bo had no idea what she was talking about, but he tried his best to keep up with her jovial banter.

"So, I guess this makes us friends, then?" he hinted with a sly smile.

Parnon stood well to the side of the battleground, calling out his commands.

"Warriors ready!"

"Who said we're friends?" she taunted backed.

The remark caught Bo off guard. "Huh?"

"Begin!"

Suddenly, Bo felt his legs give underneath him. He crashed to the earth, falling flat on his back. Nephia had literally swept him off his feet.

"First one out!" Bo heard Parnon call.

Surprised, and very much upset, Bo looked over to Nephia who had already found herself another combatant. She looked over to him, just for a second, to wink and laugh, "I told you I would beat you!"

"Take your staff, and stand aside!" Parnon called with a tone of disappointment.

Bo rolled over and got to his feet, seething with anger. The first one out, he thought. How embarrassing.

Bo stood next to Parnon and watched Nephia, who had now become the center of attention. Bo felt quite conflicted watching her fight. On one hand, he wanted to see her get knocked flat on her back. On the other hand, he didn't want to see her get hurt.

At least not too much.

"Get the dirty, scrawny one!" one recruit called.

Two young volunteers charged in with staffs raised, ready to strike—one high, the other low.

Nephia turned her body to dodge the first blow aimed for her head. Flowing with the motion, she knocked the attacker with a roundhouse kick directly between his shoulder blades. Then, just in time to meet the second blow, she extended her staff vertically behind her back.

Crack!

Starting a second spin almost immediately after the first, she knocked his staff up to his chin with her left and finished with a low swing from her right. She swept his legs and knocked him off his feet, bringing him crashing to the dirt with a great thud.

"Whoa," Bo heard Parnon whisper. Parnon could feel Bo staring at him. He feigned a cough and then signaled.

"You, out!"

The first attacker had now fully recovered. He raised his staff in defense and then offered Nephia a taunting challenge.

"Come on," he hollered. "Let's see you try that on me!"

Nephia stepped back, but only to give herself space. She twirled once, swinging completely around, and struck low with her staff diagonally across his waist. The young challenger blocked her blow, but the princess continued spinning, this time leading with her swinging elbow directly into his face.

He staggered for just a second, but long enough for Nephia to hit him square in the gut with her staff. She knocked him to the ground and turned to face her next opponent.

"Whoa," Bo whispered to himself.

Parnon looked over to him, eyebrows raised. Bo turned and offered a slight shrug.

One by one, many of the combatants fell. Each time, Parnon called them out until only four other contenders remained: Hectus, a strong farmhand from the valley; Chiro, a short and scrappy, bushy-haired pig-keeper from the outskirts of Keeptown; Grecos, a tall and slender stable boy from the castle grounds; and, of course, Ruse—the somber and silent son of Lord Ursidor.

Nephia was locked in combat with Chiro, who had been swinging relentlessly like a wild savage. What he lacked in technique and skill, he made up for with speed and tenacity. Unfortunately for him, Nephia possessed all of the above.

She took a step back and then began her assault. Chrio immediately raised his staff in defense. She spun a quarter circle, pivoting on her right foot. Her staff landed squarely against his.

Crack!

He easily blocked her weak one handed attack and considered striking at her head, but before he could react, she spun again with the same attack.

Crack!

Chiro became hypnotized by her dance. She struck a third time in the same fashion, successfully guiding him into a rhythm.

Crack!

On her fourth and final strike she reached out with her left hand to grab his weapon. Before he knew what was happening, she pulled him closer to her, eliminating any attempt at defense. Then she came back with her own staff, still in her right, and cut it across swiftly into his neck.

Chiro fell to his knees, gasping for air.

Nephia gently kicked him over with her boot.

Grecos, who had stood watching, called out to her.

"You fight like a dancer, scoundrel! Face me and we shall see how your fancy tricks fare against my strength!"

Nephia sized him up. He was nearly twice her height, but rather lanky. She tightened her grip on her staff, took a deep breath and charged towards him.

His eyes widened in panic. He had not expected such a fierce attack.

Building momentum, she drove her staff into the ground and then kicked out with both legs. Grecos blocked the vaulted attack, just as he hoped, but the force of the impact was too much for him. Nephia knocked him flat on his bottom.

Grecos cried out, not in pain, but in frustration. He had expected to be, at least, one of the last two—only expecting to lose to the young prince himself.

Nephia landed crouching low to the earth. One hand held her staff behind her, the other supporting her off the ground. She cracked a smile, realizing she had finally found an arena to put Phelidae's training to use.

She looked around for her next opponent, but instead, she saw the last two recruits locked together in a tightly-contested battle. She stood, casually leaning on her staff, waiting to see who she would face in the final challenge.

*

Though favored to win, Ruse was having extreme difficulty defending against his opponent's attacks. It took all his strength to block the young farmhand's powerful blows. Any lesser fighter would have succumbed much sooner, and in fact, many had, for Hectus had already defeated more challengers than any other.

All around him, Ruse could feel the crowd of spectators turning against him. They were no longer cheering for the son of their king. They had turned all their support now to their new champion, the young farmhand from the Veredonian valley.

Ruse tried his best to ignore their cries. For him, this was more than a mere contest for Parnon to evaluate the new recruits. This was his chance prove himself, to live up to his instructor's expectations, and earn his father's respect. Parnon made it perfectly clear: if he were to one day become king, he would first need to earn his throne.

Ruse's father had arranged for his training and supplied him with numerous instructors who specialized in various styles of fighting. For the young prince, this physical training was both liberating and empowering. There was something about the exertion and the pain of combat that made him feel alive.

All his life, Ruse had been neglected by his father and smothered by his mother. His parents were obviously miserable, and yet they pretended to be content with their luxurious lifestyle. As Ruse grew older, he began to realize how completely detached they had become from that which made them truly happy.

Hectus was much stronger than Ruse, and he attacked with fierce, unrelenting blows that kept the young prince working desperately to keep his opponent at bay.

It was only after nearly sixty bouts that Ruse finally caught a break.

Hectus, in a display of skill and strength, came down completely perpendicular with Ruse's staff. The young prince could feel his own weapon buckle in his hands. He knew it wouldn't hold up much longer against such an aggressive assault.

Hectus raised his staff once more and brought it crashing down again in the same fashion as before. This time, Ruse locked his arms to absorb the powerful blow.

CRACK!

The prince's weapon immediately broke in two.

Realizing this was his chance to act, Ruse quickly dropped his sticks and dove for his opponent's legs. He slid on his knee, and, using it as a crutch, he wrapped his arms around Hectus exposed limbs. Then, lifting him as high as he could, Ruse drilled him straight into the ground.

"Out!" Parnon called out.

Hectus pounded his fist into the earth. He thought for sure he had the prince defeated.

Ruse stood above him, offering his hand.

"You are an awesome fighter, to say the least. This is only the first day of training and already you fight like a veteran soldier."

Hectus hesitated for a second, then finally took his hand and got to his feet.

"It seems you are not without skill, yourself," he grinned as he patted him on the back. "It will be an honor to fight at your side."

The crowd honored the two warriors with a roaring applause.

Nephia had been watching, unimpressed. Leaning on her staff, she clapped her hands in jest.

Now that the fight was over, she took her weapon in hand and circled her final opponent.

Ruse, studied her as she passed. He never took his eyes off her, even when he picked up Hectus's staff. Without looking, he kicked it up from the ground, and caught it with his hand, then he twirled it in a show of bravado.

"That's a cute trick," Nephia said in a disguised, raspy voice. "Got anymore?"

Ruse's eyes narrowed. He knew nothing of this strange, little warrior, and yet immediately he had come to despise him. There was something quite peculiar about him, he thought. He appeared weak, and soft; and yet he spoke and moved like a panther from the mountains.

"You'll have to come at me to find out!" The young prince shouted back. "Don't worry—I'll try to go easy on you!"

Ruse took a new defensive position, creating a greater distance between him and his smaller opponent. He held his stick low as if ready to meet a cavalry charge. This granted him greater power, but it would also slow him down significantly.

At least that's what he wanted his opponent to think.

The two paced about each other, both waiting to see who would strike first.

Finally, Nephia attacked, her staff banging into his.

Crack!

She struck low, then high.

Crack!

She spun around, knocking his staff away, once, then twice. She was expecting to hit him a third time when Ruse suddenly switched his position with the staff to hold it even higher now in his hands. Ruse aimed, not for her body, but squarely for her hands.

Nephia cursed out in pain. Her gloves weren't enough to protect her vulnerable fingers.

Ruse grinned, realizing he had the advantage. He continued his assault, stabbing at her with his staff into her left shoulder. He then came back around with his staff, trying to sweep her leg.

Nephia instinctively jumped, and on the way down, Ruse struck her staff with a quick backhand that stripped her of her weapon. Her staff flew into the air, landing and rolling far out of reach.

Miraculously, Nephia still managed to land on her hands and feet. She looked up at the dark silhouette of her opponent standing over her.

The prince was fast.

In a desperate attempt to catch him by surprise, Nephia struck Ruse with an uppercut that left him slightly dazed, but still on his feet.

Nephia knew if she was going to beat him, now was the time to do it.

She grabbed a hold of his staff, trying to break his defense. She pulled the weapon to his dead side, expecting to finish him off with a swift kick to his groin.

Ruse, however, instinctively reacted to the pull of his body. Stronger than his opponent, he pulled in the opposite direction, bringing her just close enough for him to counter her kick and drill his elbow into her lower thigh.

She fell to her knees, and with his other hand holding the staff, he swung hard under her chin, into her neck, and swept her to the ground.

"That's it!" Parnon called as he came over to introduce the winner.

"Ruse has won the contest! Well done, young boy!"

He took Ruse's forearm and raised it into the air so all could see the furious fist of the last man standing.

"Well done!"

Cheers and applause came from the crowd of spectators. From atop the castle wall, Ruse's father clapped his hands, quite impressed with the boy's extraordinary talent.

Ruse walked over to Nephia who had been sitting quietly, her arms wrapped around her knees in dismay.

Ruse wasn't much to talk during a fight, but his smaller opponent had egged him on. He wanted to throw the victory in the strange boy's face. He wanted him to feel shame. He knew, however, that such behavior was not appropriate for a warrior of honor.

Ruse extended his hand. An honorable warrior, he recalled, always shows respect to another soldier of skill.

"You have impressed many here," Ruse complimented.

Nephia wiped the blood from her lips. She didn't want to look up. She had never lost before.

"It is an honor to fight such a skillful... warrior. What is your name?"

Nephia glared at him, as if silently telling him to jump off a bridge.

When she was locked in combat, she hadn't really thought much of the prince at all. She heard he was the son of Lord Ursidor, but in the heat of battle, he was just another opponent. Now, looking up at him in defeat, she realized how charming he truly was.

The young prince's hair was long and slid down to the sides of his neck. Around his forehead, he wore a tied headband. His face had sharp features, but his eyes were pleasantly soft and gentle, as if they were windows to the rolling sea. His muscles were hidden underneath his armor, but not well enough to hide the true impressions of his strength.

Nephia couldn't help but admire his handsome features, as well as his fighting skill. She felt her face grow flush, and she hid it with the long bangs of her hair. His hand was still extended out to her, but she chose to stand up on her own.

"You don't have a name?" he asked.

Nephia tried to deepen her voice.

"My name is Nephio," she replied, overcompensating for the natural softness in her voice. Her peculiar response came off as rude and abrasive.

"Nephio," Ruse said to himself, trying his best to memorize the name. He usually appreciated friendly competition, but not in this case. He already felt threatened by the small warrior's skill, and he didn't care much for "his" arrogant attitude.

"Well... good fight," he finally said, exhausted with the friendly formalities.

Parnon led him away to the front of the gathered crowd and, after a brief ceremony celebrating his victory, the lines were reformed and the volunteers were then sent to their barracks.

Nephia watched Ruse, who had been walking with his father back into the castle. Ursidor, now laughing and smiling with the boy, had his arm affectionately wrapped around him.

Nephia thought it strange that Ruse did not share his father's satisfaction. He was, after all, the victor, and yet his expression revealed nothing of the sort. In fact, he looked more as if he had lost his dearest friend.

That's when she saw Ruse look in her direction. She pretended to look elsewhere, but it was obviously clear to him that he was being watched.

Ruse didn't know much about the strange, scrawny warrior, but what he did know, he didn't like. There was something about the young fighter that he found very suspicious. "He" was definitely hiding something, and Ruse didn't care much for being kept in the dark.

Chapter XVI

Darkness

After living with young Bo for so long, Leuco had forgotten what it was like to be alone. He found himself making more and more visits into Keeptown, each ending with a brief stop at the Inn of the Dancing Moons.

One day Cimmie came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands with her rag. She pointed out Leuco's humble work clothes. "Why, now you're starting to look like a real goat herder!"

"That's because I am a real goat herder!" he replied with a smile.

"So if you can't change the world, you change the man?"

"Something like that," he shrugged, almost embarrassed.

"Well, it's a good look for you. It's much better than your other disguises. Too bad it won't last!"

Leuco pinched the fabric of his shirt. "Still don't think so?"

"Trust me! If experience has taught me anything, it's that nearly every time you pay me a visit, someone comes through that door looking for Leuco the Hawk, not Leuco the Farmer!"

"Well, that's what I've come to talk to you about. I'm hoping I won't have to come back here anymore."

Cimmie's cheerful expression suddenly vanished.

"What do you mean?"

"I told you things were going to change, Cimmie. I can walk through town and people don't even notice me. I'm different now. I'm not a soldier anymore. I'm not an outlaw. I don't want to be those things. I want to be with you."

Leuco took Cimmie by the hand.

"I want you to come back with me, Cimmie—back to my farm."

Cimmie burst with relief. She wanted to hug him. She wanted to kiss him and promise to always love him. She wanted to say yes again and again.

"But, Leuco," she asked, "What about Canidae? What about the Followers of Xenos?"

Leuco considered the possibility that Canidae was somehow responsible for the spreading hysteria, but he simply refused to believe it. He respected Canidae far too much.

"Canidae is a friend, and a Guardian of Valinon. I am sure he will not start a war. He is merely giving his people hope. Besides, I'm a farmer now," Leuco explained, pinching his worn, dirty shirt. "This realm is full of young heroes. If there is going to be a war, then let it be their fight, not mine."

"But don't you think they'll need your help? I've seen many people pass through here, fleeing the lands of Valinon. They say many things about Canidae and how he abuses his people. Doesn't it worry you?"

"It does," Leuco began, "but as I said. It's not really our problem anymore."

"Do you really believe that?"

Leuco sighed, "Canidae knows what he's doing. Valinon has changed much since Cervusian's death. It's broken now, Cimmie, and he's only trying to fix it. The people need something to strive for, and he gives them that. This Xenos is just a tool. He's giving them something to believe in. It gives them..."

Leuco stopped himself.

"But why are you asking me all this?" he asked. "What are you trying to say? You don't want to come with me?"

"I do, Leuco!" she said, holding his calloused hands in hers. "I do! More than anything! But it seems like this just isn't the best time! Things are falling apart all around us! I cannot dare ask you to break your oath just for me! I'm not so sure I can bear the guilt! Can you really turn your back on them, on the people you swore to protect?" She ran her hand against his stubbled cheek. "Can you?"

Suddenly there came a loud knock at Cimmie's door.

Sal, who had been eavesdropping by the stairs the whole time, immediately offered to open it. Embarrassed, he quipped, "I'm sure it's just more of Xenos's zealots! I guess they can't take a hint, eh?"

Just as he slid the viewing window open to check, two large blades exploded through the door.

Sal cried out and ran beside Leuco who instinctively moved to stand before his friends, intending to protect them from whomever, or whatever, was bursting through Cimmie's door.

After a few loud bangs, the door became unhinged and crashed down to the floor. From behind it stormed in three menacing soldiers, each wearing black helmets that extended low over their eyes, covering their faces liked masked bandits. Upon their black and white plated armor was the unmistakable crest of the ankh of Xenos.

Leuco led his friends quickly into the kitchen and slammed the door shut behind them. He held Sal close to him, "Get Cimmie out of here! Take her to my homestead! I'll meet you both there!"

Sal quickly nodded and took off through the back door, pulling Cimmie along with him.

Cimmie looked back, begging Leuco with her eyes to come with them.

Leuco could feel the soldiers pounding at the door behind him. They would break through any second. He looked over to Cimmie.

"Go!" he shouted, his back pressed against the throbbing door.

Leuco grabbed the only thing within his reach: a hot, black cauldron filled with what looked like Cimmie's favorite root stew. He pulled the swinging handle from the fire, trying to hold it with his other hand underneath. Through his calloused hands, he could feel its burning heat. He stood just beside the door, waiting for them to break it down.

When the first soldier came crashing through the doorway, Leuco quickly tossed the pot's boiling contents at the masked invader's face. The soldier cried out in pain, as the boiling stew streamed into his stinging eyes.

A second soldier appeared, and Leuco immediately swung the empty cauldron across the assassin's skull, knocking him to the ground. Leuco hurled the iron pot at the next attacker, buying him just enough time to reach for one of the soldiers' weapons on his way out.

He dove through the kitchen's back door, tumbling with sword drawn, poised and ready to strike.

Suddenly, Leuco felt a sharp pain shoot through his back. He dropped his sword and uncontrollably curled over in agony. Pulling the blade from his back was Faiden.

"So this is the great Leuco the Hawk?" Faiden announced, towering above his wounded prey.

"I must confess. I am rather disappointed. From what I had heard, I was expecting more than just a miserable farmer. You put up a good fight, old man, but if that's the best you can do, I'm afraid it won't be good enough!"

Leuco coughed. His mouth tasted of metal. His hands were now soiled with blood. He cringed in pain as he rolled his body over, helplessly trying to identify his attacker.

"Hurts, doesn't it?"

Leuco could feel his veins turn to ice as the world around him slowly began to spin.

Faiden crouched down beside him. "See this?" he asked, holding up the black dagger in the shape of Xenos's Ankh. He held it close for Leuco to see. It was covered with what smelled like dried blood and excrement.

"It smells, doesn't it?" Faiden smiled. "Just like death!"

Faiden sheathed his dagger and looked into Leuco's eyes. "You've been poisoned, old man," he proudly declared. "Soon you will die and face your final judgment!"

He stood and mounted his horse. "Oh, and don't worry about your friends," he added casually with a sinister laugh. "My men are chasing them as we speak."

"As I speak," he said, correcting himself. "Dead men don't really say much, do they?"

He paused a moment, waiting for Leuco to surprise him with a response. Then he let out a chuckle and turned to ride away.

Leuco tried to get up, but he didn't have the strength. He could barely feel his legs. His vision blurred as the world around him quickly began to disappear.

"Canidae sends his regards!"

Leuco couldn't see him, but he could still hear the assassin's venomous voice.

"Rest in peace, old man!"

Then everything faded to black.

Chapter XVII

Crossroads

Maria stood in awe and disbelief as she looked out across the once lush area of forest, now reduced to an empty field of stumps. Hundreds of trees, she estimated, had been cleared and pillaged.

She followed the stumps to the edge of the forest and onto a new dirt road that led down to two separate paths: one west to Cervusian's Citadel, and the other north to the alpine territory of Veredon. In the distance, she spied a caravan of wagons loaded with timber. They were clearly headed north.

Maria concealed herself alongside the road and followed a short distance behind, moving under the cover of one group of bushes and trees to another.

Evening came, and Maria had been shadowing the train of wagons all day. They traveled across a wooden bridge and finally arrived at a small village turned outpost on the other side of the Nephi River, just on the outskirts of Veredon.

Soldiers were standing guard alongside the white tents and lean-tos that were scattered across the camp. Torchlights flickered alongside their tents and, even from a distance, Maria could smell the awful fumes of ash, smoke, and molten metal lingering in the night air. She spied enormous, unfamiliar works of iron and wood that appeared yet to be completed. She had never seen such structures, but from the number of surrounding soldiers, she deduced them to be giant machines of war.

She silently breached their dug-out perimeter, and hid behind a smaller, dimly lit tent. She could see the shadow of a single figure resting within on his knees in prayer.

She covered herself completely with her cloak and carefully drew out her dagger. When it was clear, she slipped inside.

Maria crept up behind him, and wrapped her arm around his neck. She pressed her dagger firmly against his cheek.

The cleric gasped for breath. "Wh-Who are you? What are you... doing here?"

"Quiet!" she hissed, trying to sound as threatening as she could. "You shout, you die! You move, you die! Understand?"

"Y-Yes!" he gasped, desperate for air.

"You answer my questions, and I let you live. You tell me something I don't want to hear..."

She squeezed her arm tighter around his neck and poked her dagger deeper into his cheek.

He wheezed the words out, "Alright! Alright!"

"Who is collecting all this timber?" Maria demanded.

"Canidae... for the war!"

The name was familiar.

"Who is that?"

"P-Patriarch... Regent of Valinon..."

Of course, she thought. Canidae was the warrior priest the young princess had described as the man responsible for her parents' death. Now he was tearing down the forest to wage war. Maria shook her head, wondering why her cousins were so fond of violence and destruction.

It was clear to her that Canidae was a man of great influence and power. Gaining an audience with him in his impenetrable citadel would be no easy task. Even if she did speak with him, she would still have the difficult task of convincing him to withhold his invasion. From his actions, and those of his followers, she could see he was not a man to be easily reasoned with. If she wanted to stop him from blindly slaying his own people, she knew she would need to seek help.

"These war machines," she asked, "where are they headed?"

"They're... headed... to Veredon! To destroy the nonbelievers!"

By now, Maria's captive could feel her delicate, curved body pressed against his. He looked down at her silver hands. They were certainly not the coarse hands of a soldier.

Talking through his teeth, he seethed out the words, "Y-You are no warrior! You are... a woman!"

His voice grew louder, building with confidence, "The will of Xenos cannot be stopped! Veredon will soon belong to us, and when the sons of the old gods are dead, our souls will live forever!"

"I said 'no shouting!'"

Maria raised her dagger and knocked him at the base of his skull. He slipped and fell face first into the ground. Then, she began to search through the slumped priest's garments. From his side, she discovered a black dagger in the shape of a pointed ankh. It reeked of bile and filth. She looked it over in disgust and let it drop from her hands.

She had left her home to protect her human cousins from a terrible pestilence, and yet deep inside, she doubted such men were worth her efforts.

These humans, she thought to herself, had become so miserable living in fear of their final breaths. They seemed to pray for death—as if they favored the comfort of an early grave to their very own existence. Why else would they be so eager to make war? These men, so desperate, so preoccupied with the rewards promised to them in death, had failed to recognize the acts of destruction they cast upon the living.

A shiver went down her spine.

She could not reason with such men, but she would not dare face such an army alone. If they truly sought to enslave the people of Veredon, then perhaps that was where she needed to be. Maybe they would understand, and maybe they could help. Though filled with doubt, it was clear she didn't have much of a choice.

Maria put out the fire with a fistful of dirt. Then quietly, she crept out of the tent and slipped her way back into the darkness of night.

BOOK TWO

BLOOD

Chapter XVIII

Slow Death

Cimmie looked back to gauge the distance apart. She saw the two soldiers, much like the ones that had burst through her inn approaching on horseback and quickly closing in.

"Faster, Sal! Faster!"

"I'm going as fast as I can!" Sal shouted, flapping the reins in his hands to no effect.

One of the riders came alongside them and slashed at Sal.

Cimmie felt his red warmth splatter upon her cheek. She cried out as Sal, pale from shock and fear, held his hands to his wounds. He was too busy trying to stop the blood from fleeing his shivering body to notice the horses were veering the wagon off the road and into the woods.

The cart barreled over the rough terrain, and when one of the wheels buckled from the impact of the collisions, the wagon collapsed entirely. The exhausted horses dragged the mangled cart a short distance before finally coming to a stop.

"Go!" Sal shouted to Cimmie. "Run!"

Cimmie jumped from the wagon and fled into the woods. Her racing heart echoed the beating of the approaching horses' hooves. She knew they would soon be upon her.

Stumbling over the brush, she turned to hide behind a nearby tree. She covered her head and closed her eyes as one of the masked horsemen rounded the tree and raised his sword to strike.

She braced herself for a swift death, but to her surprise, it was the assassin who cried out in pain.

When Cimmie mustered the courage to open her eyes, she discovered an arrow protruding from the rider's shoulder. From his cursing it was clear that the arrow had certainly penetrated his armor, if not his bone.

Both riders turned their horses in circles, scanning the area for the hidden archer.

"There!" the second shouted. His finger pointed to the green-cloaked figure perched upon the bough of a nearby tree.

From behind the foliage, Maria drew another arrow from her quiver and called down below.

"I know not why you chase this woman, but if you persist, your corpse will be littered with arrows!"

The rider, wounded now in both body and in spirit, clenched his teeth, pulled the broken missile from his shoulder and charged upon the hunter sitting safely atop her tree.

Maria's next arrow was a rapid release targeted at his bleeding wound. It easily hit its mark. Then, instead of reaching for her quiver, she raised her fingers to her mouth. From her lips came a shrill whistle that immediately shook the branches and trees all around them. From every corner of the wild forest, a swarm of sparrows swiftly gathered and, like the waves of a rushing river, they swept across the rider's path.

Startled by the flurry of fluttering wings, the horse lifted its hind legs and reared. The rider was immediately tossed from his saddle.

By this time, the second assassin was now circling Maria's position.

"If I must chop down this tree to kill you, I will! Come down and fight like a true warrior!" he shouted.

"I am no warrior," Maria replied. "I am a hunter, and you are my prey!"

"You are but a coward! Why don't you come down here and fight!" The dark rider challenged.

"Those are bold words from one well-armored and riding atop a horse! But have no fear! I accept your foolish challenge!"

Maria swiftly swung from the tree, twirling along its bough with her arms. Using the strength of her legs, she bounced off the trunk and tackled the horseman from his steed. Having used his body to break her fall, she quickly rolled away and rose to her feet. Her opponent, burdened by his heavy suit of armor, did not have the chance to stand. Before he could raise his head, Maria was on top of him and kicking off his helmet. His mind recovered from the blow and for a moment there was a gleam of fear in his eyes as she pulled her dagger from her side. Fortunately for him, she only pummeled him unconscious with its hilt.

"Foolish woman!"

Maria turned in time to see the steel of the first horseman's blade flash before her.

"When you shoot someone with an arrow, you best make sure you kill him!"

Maria's injured foe was having difficulty raising his sword. She dodged his first two erratic swings, and before he could swing a third time, she drove her dagger deep into his thigh.

The wounded warrior let out a furious cry. He lunged at her with his sword now feverishly raised far above his head.

Maria used the mismatch, as well as his blind rage, to her advantage. She easily evaded the wild overhand swing that crashed deep into the mossy dirt. From the way he labored with his weapon, she could see he was quickly growing fatigued. Still, he swung again, this time aiming for her neck.

With her dagger still in hand, Maria staked his right boot to the ground. The warrior couldn't help but scream. He buckled under the pain and fell to one knee. He kept himself up with his sword, leaning on it like a cane.

"You.. dirty... trickster!" he shouted.

Maria stood above the wounded horseman. She kicked his sword aside, dropping him to the ground. She dug her knee into the small of his back, and removed his helmet. Then, lifting his head by his hair she offered him mercy.

"Will you yield?"

Though clearly defeated, the wounded warrior shook his head.

"Never! I do not fear death!"

Maria let out a sigh. "I should kill you, fool! You'd make good food for the trees!"

"I welcome death! Xenos waits for me!"

With that, Maria whacked him in the back of his skull, sending him to a senseless slumber.

Maria turned her attention to Cimmie, who stood in awe at the violent scene.

"Are you okay?" Maria asked.

Cimmie was quite surprised. She would never have guessed her savior to be a woman—a beautiful, graceful woman with the savagery of a wild wolf.

"I'm fine," Cimmie said, her hands still shaking. "But there is still a man—"

"Yes, the one in the wagon. Honey-root would stop the bleeding, but I fear your enemies have already taken his life."

"There is another at the inn in Keeptown!" Cimmie's voice was still racing. "He was defending us against more of these masked assassins! Please, he may need your help!"

Maria shook her head as she wiped her hands. "I'm sorry, but I cannot be delayed any longer. I seek the audience of the king, the one named Ursidor."

Tears filled Cimmie's eyes. "Please! This man is dear to my heart! He is a brave warrior! He will help you! He can get you inside the keep! He can take you to meet Ursidor!"

Maria looked over to the unconscious soldier. "If your friend stood against such foes alone, I doubt he will be of much help to anyone."

Cimmie didn't hear the words. If she did, she chose to ignore them. "His name is Leuco! Leuco the Hawk! Whatever business you have with Ursidor, he will help you! Please! You must find him!"

"And what of the man in the wagon?"

Cimmie brought over one of the dark riders' horses. "Please! I will look after Sal! I fear Leuco is in grave danger!"

"I will see what I can do," Maria replied, mostly out of sympathy. Although she feared both men were dead, she had no desire to argue with the hysterical woman.

After carefully taking the dark horse's reins into her hands, she learned toward the mighty, muscled steed and offered a soft caress. She whispered in its ear a moment before mounting its saddle.

"You should leave soon," she called back to Cimmie. "These men will be quite sore when they awaken."

Then, she kicked her horse and raced down the road towards Keeptown.

Cimmie ran back to the destroyed wagon. She found Sal leaning against it, his bloody body hanging over the side.

He was already dead.

*

Leuco felt cold—colder than any Veredonian winter he had ever experienced. His whole body shivered uncontrollably. He had seen this before, long ago on the fields of battle.

He knew it was death.

Leuco had lost his faith long ago, but there, so close to his end, he began to consider his fate on the other side.

But then his thoughts quickly returned to Cimmie.

He had always come to visit her and every time he did, he faced some form of danger. And yet, he always came back.

Perhaps it was fate that he had been tempting all these years. Perhaps his happiness had always been out of his hands, out of his control, forever meant to be beyond his reach.

Perhaps the gods his mother told him about as a child, the ones who shaped the clouds and hid the sun—perhaps they had planned for this misery all along.

He thought of the looming war that threatened to ravage the land—the war he selfishly tried to ignore. He wouldn't be alone in his suffering. The gods had planned the same misery for all.

And yet, he still wanted to believe that, like his father, he was the real master of his fate.

He couldn't help but dream.

Sweet Cimmie.

He closed his eyes. He imagined their shared life on the homestead. Together, they worked the fields, fed the animals, and spent cold winter nights inside, beside a roaring fire, wrapped in each other's arms.

Leuco could feel the warmth. In the darkness, he could hear the wood in the fire crackle and pop. He could smell the smoke and ash.

He opened his eyes and could see its flickering flames.

Then he saw the shape of a moving figure.

"C-Cimmie?" His whisper was merely a soft murmur. "Is that you?"

He saw a woman's silhouette appear from the shadows.

"Is this a dream?"

"It's a sort of dream, farmer. It's actually the spider-root poultice doing its work. It can play cruel tricks with the mind."

Leuco coughed. "Y-You're not Cimmie. Who are you? Are you a healer?"

"A healer? No. I'm a hunter." She wiped his brow with a wet cloth. "Maybe I should get a badge. Perhaps then your people wouldn't get so easily mixed up."

Leuco caught a glimpse of her hidden, silver face. She looked like an angel.

"Rest, old man. There will be time to speak later."

The green-clad woman laid herself down upon the floor across from him.

"Now that you're alive, if you don't mind, I'm going to get some rest."

Leuco was confused, but extremely tired. He couldn't keep his eyes open long enough to make out his surroundings, let alone the strange woman claiming to have saved his life. He let her soft voice lull him to sleep.

"Do us both a favor," she added. "Try not to die in your sleep."

Chapter XIX

Training

The soldiers' barracks were kept in a bunker made of stone and mud, roofed with slabs of thin, layered slate. Inside were rows of green woolen cots where the young volunteers retired at the end of their long, exhausting days. Just outside the building was a space for them to share their meals, and in the rear was a group of small wooden wash houses for the young soldiers to keep themselves clean.

For the duration of their intensive training, this was to be their home.

Bo had already begun unpacking his things when Nephia placed her gear on the cot beside him.

"Do you mind if I set up here for tonight?" she asked.

Bo didn't say a word. He didn't even turn to face her.

"What's wrong?" Nephia asked. She wasn't fond of the silent treatment.

"What's wrong?" Bo repeated her words with a tone of sarcasm, slamming his armor under his cot. "What's wrong?! You knocked me out of the competition! I didn't even have a chance to defend myself! Now everyone thinks I'm nothing but a farming fool!"

Nephia smiled. "I was only trying to make you laugh."

"Do I look like I'm laughing?! I thought we were friends, Nephia. Friends don't do that!"

Bo went back to sorting his things.

Nephia could see he was obviously upset. She hadn't considered the consequences of what she considered a harmless game.

"Are you going to get me kicked out?" she asked in a serious, quiet voice.

Bo suddenly stopped.

"You only think about yourself, don't you?"

Nephia was silent. She wanted to argue. She wanted to tell him about her mother and father, and why she had really joined the volunteers. She hated Canidae and his Followers of Xenos. They had taken everything from her, and she would spend every ounce of her being trying to take it back. But Nephia had been lost and alone for far too long, and she knew she needed help.

When they first met, Bo seemed so kind and reserved. She had no idea he was capable of being so bitter. Maybe it was best for her to leave him alone.

She turned back to the cot across from his to repack her things.

Bo took a deep breath. He regretted his wild outburst. With his back still facing hers, he spoke in a soft, sincere tone.

"I'm not going to tell anyone. You may think this some sort of game, but I actually believe in this fight. I know what we're doing is right, and I know we can use all the help we can get."

"Thanks, Bo," she whispered.

There was a brief moment of silence. Then, Nephia finally added an apology.

"I'm sorry for cheating you."

Bo collapsed into his cot and stared at the ceiling. He didn't want to say any more. He was still upset with the outcome of the contest. He knew he could have easily won. He would have bested Ruse if he only had the chance. After all, that was the reason he was here—to be a hero, like Leuco. Now, instead of earning everyone's respect, he had become the butt of all their jokes; and he certainly didn't appreciate the irony of his new nickname: Number One.

Still, his anger with Nephia quickly waned. He was impressed with her skill in combat and, whether he wanted to or not, he cared about her.

He lay there thinking, not sure what was worse: being the first loser of the tournament, or possibly having feelings for the egotistical "princess" he had found drunk at Raco's Tavern.

Nephia slid somberly into her cot.

She felt a familiar pain in her gut, like a thorn bush growing in her belly. She knew she had made a mistake.

She thought about her time with Maria in the woods, along with her short time with Bo. She came to a terrible conclusion. She realized she wasn't very good at keeping friends.

She also realized how much she hated being alone.

Suddenly a voice came out from the darkness behind them.

"Hey! You!"

Bo immediately raised his head in response.

"Not you, Number One! I'm talking to the feline freak!"

Nephia turned on her side to see Grecos, her bitter opponent with a small band of like-minded volunteers approach her cot.

"You know a lot of dirty tricks," the tall boy announced for everyone in the barracks to hear. "You must not be from around here."

Nephia quickly stood to face her accuser. "What of it?"

Grecos turned to his companions as he spoke. "We're not friends with Valinon vagrants! Your kind ruined your kingdom, and now you want to do the same to ours! I think it's time we offered you a proper welcome!"

Grecos swung his fist to strike, but Bo stood in his way, brushing the bully's punch aside.

"You should probably walk away now," he warned, "before you turn this into more than a conversation."

Bo's reaction caught Grecos by surprise.

"We all saw this outsider cheat you! You were the first to fall, 'Number One'! Now you defend him?!"

"We're working together now, remember?"

"We don't trust Valinonians!" Grecos barked as he stepped into Bo's face. The warmth of his breath drove Bo to make fists, but now Nephia stood between them.

"Hey, " Nephia challenged, nodding her head to point out the angry band of boys behind him. "I beat all of you fair and square. I have no problem doing it again!"

Bo narrowed his eyes, wondering why she was determined to make things worse.

"Is there a problem, Grecos?"

Ruse stood behind them with his arms crossed.

"Yeah, these two aren't from around here! We were about to show them what we think about outsiders!"

The young prince casually approached the pair. "Is this true? You're from Valinon?"

Nephia wasn't sure how to respond. There's was something about the prince that made her nervous.

"Yes," Bo announced in her place, "But we're here to fight. This is our home now. We've come to defend it and earn glory as Brigandines!"

"You wish to become a Brigandine?"

"Of course!"

"What about you, Nephio? Why are you here?"

Bo looked to her and wondered the same.

"I don't have a home, but I'm good with a blade. Ursidor, I understand, is a worthy master. Are my skills and hatred for Xenos not enough?"

"There is a time and place for fighting," Ruse replied. "Now is not that time." He put his hand on Grecos's shoulder. "Don't worry. There will be plenty of violence to go around when the time comes. We don't need to turn on one another. The Headmaster already has a lot prepared for us tomorrow. I suggest you all get some rest. "

Grecos pointed his finger to Nephia's face as he spoke, "You better watch yourself out there tomorrow, kitty cat! And as for you, we're not afraid of you. We've seen you fight, and we're not impressed, Number One! Try that crap on me again, and I'll break your face!""

"That's enough, Grecos."

"But Ruse—"

"We are friends, Grecos," he interrupted as he ushered him aside, "but I am leader here, and I am responsible for you and every other volunteer. If Parnon hears about this, we'll all come to regret it in the morning. Nephio is a skilled fighter and he bested you fair and square. Trust me, you will have your chance to spar again."

The young prince turned back to Bo and Nephia.

"As for their origin, you forget friends, that Parnon and my father are also sons of Valinon, as are many other heroes in our ranks. Surely you haven't lost your faith in them?"

The young volunteers responded with silence.

Ruse directed his friends back to their end of the barracks.

"Now get some rest. All of you."

Then he turned back to Nephia.

"And as for you, Nephio, do yourself a favor and try to stay out of trouble."

Nephia turned away and nodded.

Bo watched as the band reluctantly dragged their feet to their cots. He could still hear them muttering words of disdain. He looked over to Nephia who was already laying in her barracks.

"This isn't going to be easy, is it?" he asked.

Nephia covered herself with her blanket.

"I'm not afraid of those fools. I've dealt with worse. It's just talk. In truth, their probably just afraid."

"Afraid of you?" Bo asked.

"More likely," she replied, turning to her side, "of what's to come."

*

The next few weeks of training passed quite quickly for the young soldiers. Grecos continued his jokes, but he mostly kept his distance—especially in Parnon's presence. The Headmaster had arranged a sophisticated schedule for his recruits that left very little time for recreation or mischief. They spent their mornings marching and exercising, and after a light breakfast, they practiced weapon technique. They devoted a week to each of the three most prominent weapons in battle: the sword, the spear, and the axe. To develop their skill, they sparred with one another and received life-saving critiques from their veteran instructors.

After another light meal, they studied war maneuvers and defensive tactics. They learned the basics of wielding a shield and the most effective formations for protection. They practiced the proper organization of mobile attacks and assaults, as well as siege defense and attacks on fortifications.

The end of each day was reserved for auxiliary training. For this portion of their training, the recruits were separated into different groups that specialized in the various aspects of battle.

Parnon selected the rosters for the auxiliary groups himself. His selection process wasn't much of a secret. The castle's elites and their relatives, such as Ruse and Grecos, were given training with the artillery. The most skilled warriors, such as Nephia and Hectus, were given cavalry training. Everyone else was placed in a large group suspiciously called "Counter Attack".

This was Bo's least favorite part of training.

Most of the time, his group simply dug holes and tunnels. When they weren't digging, they were moving large stones, sometimes bags of dirt or sand, back and forth, and then back and forth again. On good days, they practiced starting fires and putting them out. On bad days, they practiced dodging projectiles.

By the end of their day, the young recruits were often covered with caked mud or painted with soot and ash. On the bad days, they dragged their battered bodies back to the barracks, stinging with patterns of tender bruises the size of pots and pans.

*

After the first month, things finally began to look up for Bo.

To his surprise, patrols took the place of auxiliary training and the three original groups were combined into two units.

Nephia, Ruse, and Grecos were in the first unit led by Parnon. Bo, Chrio, and Hectus were in a second group led by another senior officer.

Bo recognized his veteran leader from the fateful night he met Leuco. It was Reeze, the very same official who had arrested him for stealing so long ago.

Fortunately for Bo, his patrol leader didn't recognize him.

From his experience working with him, Bo learned that Reeze was quite the soldier and leader. Being on the other side of the law gave Bo some insight into how Brigandines were supposed to react to danger.

Reeze may have once been young and foolhardy, but now he seemed to be a cautious and responsible leader. Bo could tell the veteran Brigandine tried to look after the troops under his command, and he tried to teach them the best he could.

This definitely wasn't the Reeze Bo had remembered from his youth.

On patrol, the young recruits left the walls of the keep and traveled almost daily to the outskirts of Keeptown. They rotated their duties, and Bo always looked forward to his group's patrol. He enjoyed walking the streets of Keeptown, not as a pickpocket, but as an honorable warrior bearing the emblem of the Bear Claw Regulars.

Except for Ruse, who had earned his rank in the contest, none of the recruits were allowed to wear the uniform of a Brigandine. Instead, they bore a green band tied around their heads. It was a humble prize for their efforts, but one that Bo cherished deeply.

One day, Bo and his company were busy in the bailey preparing wooden shafts for artillery missiles.

Bo spotted Nephia as she marched with her group on their way out of the keep's gates.

Bo secretly wished to be part of her group. It would have been a great honor to serve with the Headmaster of the Royal Guard, and the position would have also granted him greater proximity to Nephia during the day.

He leaned on his axe and stared at her like a love-sick fool.

Chiro could see Bo was distracted.

"They think they're superior to us because they have Parnon in their group," Chiro griped. "Ha! That probably just means they need more help!"

Bo replied, "Perhaps they're merely trying to keep the king's son safe."

Hectus couldn't help but overhear their sour conversation. He lifted his shovel behind his back and rested his arms upon it like a scarecrow.

"Is that why they're going troll hunting?" He asked, giving his muscled body a stretch.

"They're going troll hunting?" Bo asked, now surprised.

"Reeze told me he was taking their group up the northern trails today," Hectus added, as he spat.

Bo was confused. His group had been in charge of patrolling the lands from Keeptown up to the white cliffs of the Borderland Mountain Range. There were reports of troll attacks there, but for some reason, they had never bothered to investigate.

Bo was hoping to redeem himself in combat. He wanted to prove his mettle to his peers and gain some recognition by slaying the creatures he hated most. He knew he had the most experience.

Parnon's group, meanwhile, had been reporting more activity in the south of Keeptown. They had spotted many of Canidae's encampments further down along the plains. Why then, he wondered, didn't they simply send Parnon's group to raid their camps? Why not leave the trolls to Reeze's patrol? Or better yet, he thought, why not join the two together and deal with one after the other?

Hectus offered some insight.

"I always thought Reeze was trying to keep us out of trouble, but it looks like maybe they saved the real fights for the First Patrol. Maybe they're trying to break the young prince in, or maybe they have something else in store for the enemy camps. I don't know... I suppose it is a bit suspicious."

Bo worried that Nephia could be in danger.

"Don't worry, Bo," Hectus said. "Parnon has trained us well. And Reeze has always looked after us. I'm sure he'll look after them, too."

"Besides," Chiro joked, "they're traveling with Ruse! They wouldn't dare let anything happen to him!"

Chapter XX

Crossing the Threshold

"How is he doing?"

Leuco could make out the familiar voice.

"He'll live."

His eyes opened and became fixed on the figure standing beside him.

"How are you feeling, Leu?" he heard the voice say.

It hurt when he smiled, but Leuco couldn't help himself. This wasn't a dream.

"Cimmie," he spoke softly to hold back the pain.

"I've brought some of your things," she said, raising a small vial in her hand. "Here, drink this."

Leuco sat up. From the nearby fireplace, he could tell he was in the foyer of Cimmie's inn. The room was modestly lit, and the broken door that the assassins had knocked down was now propped against the doorway. From the gray color between its gaps and cracks, he guessed it was either early in the day, or late in the evening. He wondered how long he had been sleeping.

Cimmie raised the small vial of dark, brown liquid to his lips. He recognized the foul odor and bitter, metallic taste. It was one of the healing potions he had the apothecary make from troll blood. He finished every last drop, then tried to scrape the horrible taste from his tongue with his teeth.

He noticed the other woman standing to the side.

"I know you," Leuco spoke as if he was solving a riddle. "You saved me, but...who are you?"

"My name is Maria. My home is being destroyed by the mad men of Valinon. If they are not stopped soon, a great suffering will befall your people. I need to speak with Lord Ursidor right away."

Maria looked over to Cimmie, then back to Leuco, "I was told you could help arrange a meeting with him. Is this true?"

Leuco sighed. He had been avoiding Ursidor for years, and though he had no desire to ever see him again, he was clearly indebted to the young woman who saved his life.

Leuco turned to Cimmie, whose expression mirrored his own.

"Of course," he replied. "I will do whatever I can to help. Thank you, Maria, for your care."

Cimmie helped Leuco to his feet; his body ached and his back was stiff and sore. Every movement was a struggle, as if he walked with boulders upon his shoulders.

"Cimmie, I thought I told Sal to take you to my homestead? The assassins could still be nearby. You are not safe here!"

Cimmie bit her lower lip, trying to explain what happened.

Leuco looked around the room. "Where is Sal?" he asked.

Cimmie took a deep breath. She turned away, knowing that Leuco's reaction would bring her to tears. Finally, she spoke.

"Sal... didn't make it."

Leuco closed his eyes and clenched his fist. He had known Sal since he was a young boy working for Cimmie's father.

"I made it to your farm, Leu, but I couldn't stay there," Cimmie explained. "Trolls were raiding the countryside. I could see the flames from the neighboring homes. Everyone was fleeing to Keeptown for protection. I grabbed what I could..."

Cimmie looked over to his pack of armor and weapons resting on a nearby table. Leuco went over to see what she had brought him. It was all bundled together in the same sack he used to travel with as a hired fighter.

"I also brought you this."

Even with both hands on its handle, Cimmie struggled to hold it up.

Leuco took the heavy weapon from her. It had been years since he felt its great weight and power in his hands.

There were no magical enchantments cast upon the famous axe, but in his hands, the Liberator was a sweeping weapon of mass destruction. The curved blade was forged from strong, dark steel and gilded with delicate patterns of gold. The smaller, yet equally sharp, fluke had a single triangular point for piercing through armor. Around the shaft, and upon the blade, were inlays of even more golden patterns and a menacing inscription he had long forgotten: "Through pain, the warrior finds strength; through death, the warrior finds freedom."

Originally, the words were intended to inspire his troops before battle. Now, after reading them so many years later, they had taken on a completely different meaning.

Leuco had been a solider all his life. Over the years, he grew tired and resentful of the constant fighting. In the hills, he tried his best to lead a different life. But now, with his home likely destroyed, the dream of living out his days in peace had all but come to an end. He could no longer escape his past. He was a warrior—a tool of death and a slave to war—and warriors, he knew, were fated to die on the battlefield. He tightened his grip on his weapon and, at that moment, in his hands and in his heart, the old hero accepted his fate.

"Through my veins run the blood of man and monster. How can I be any different?"

Before Cimmie could respond, there came a knock at the door.

Maria immediately reached for her dagger.

"It's okay," Cimmie assured her, as she walked over to greet the unexpected guests. She dragged the battered door away from the entrance, revealing the cloudy aftermath of a pouring rain. Standing before her was a man, a woman, and what must have been their two children. The distressed man told her his story about the trolls attacking their home in the hills. Fearing for their lives and lamenting their loss, his family was now seeking shelter for the evening before making the journey west.

Behind them, Cimmie could see a crowd of similar faces—other refugees from the countryside, surrounding her inn, also seeking help. It was clear they had nowhere else to go.

"Of course, just please give me one moment," she said, as she went back inside. She looked upon Leuco with a silent, mourning stare.

The old warrior winced as he changed his clothes and buckled his old coat of segmented steel.

"Does this mean we're going now to meet Lord Ursidor?" Maria asked.

Leuco cringed, partly from the painful wound in his aching back, but mostly from the thought of having to speak with the man whom he had feuded with for years.

"Yes, the old bear and I have much to discuss," he said, fitting his shining winged helm on his head.

"Finally," Maria muttered to herself, as she gathered her things. She covered her head with her hood and waited outside.

Leuco turned his attention to Cimmie. Leaving her was growing more and more difficult.

He held her hands and kissed her lips. He wanted to say something to give her comfort.

"Cimmie..."

He couldn't find the words.

Cimmie looked away. She couldn't speak. She could only cry. Leuco was so close to death just moments ago, and now that he was better, he was going to turn himself in to the Brigandines to receive punishment for fulfilling the oath he swore to uphold.

As Leuco turned to leave, she pulled him into a kiss.

"I'll be waiting for you. I always have," she whispered. "I always will."

Leuco tried to offer a smile. He couldn't tell what bothered him more: the wound in his back or the ache of his heart.

"I know."

With that, the old warrior stepped out into the light of day. Every motion triggered a sharp pain along his back. The dark sky suddenly opened, and from behind the clouds, the sun offered the comfort of its warmth. Leuco could see the fearful expressions of the parting crowd begin to change. He heard them whisper his name.

"It's Leuco! Leuco the Hawk!"

Their voices grew louder as word spread that their champion and native son of Veredon had returned.

"Leuco's back! He's come to save us!"

Leuco tried his best not to grimace from the pain. He could see their faces were filled with hope.

A small boy approached him to get a closer look. The boy studied him as he walked, as if sizing up the hero, deciding for himself if the old warrior was worthy to be their defender.

"Are you going to save our homes?"

Leuco didn't expect to hear such a question. He wasn't quite sure what to tell him.

"I will do my best."

The small boy clung to his leg, and Leuco smiled, wrapping his arm around the strange child.

The boy ran back to his mother, and Leuco waved good-bye to the crowd. The people called behind him faithfully, offer him their prayers.

Maria watched the scene. She had never seen anything quite like it. She stood for a moment, considering the curious ways of her human cousins. She found it strange that the people of Veredon could put so much faith in a man who just hours ago lay dying in her arms. Now to help them, this broken man was planning to risk his nearly-ended life. He was no holy priest, and he certainly was no god. How was it then, she thought, that he could give his people such hope?

Chapter XXI

Ursidor the Bear

Maria was quite surprised at the reception Leuco received when he arrived at Ursidor's keep. She was expecting them to greet him with a hero's welcome. Instead, the king's soldiers bound his hands behind his back and tied a noose around his neck.

It took some convincing, but Leuco finally arranged for Maria to be granted an audience with the king. She was introduced as Leuco's captor seeking to collect her entitled bounty.

The soldiers escorted the pair to Ursidor's throne room, all the while tugging Leuco along through the castle's corridors like an ox on his way to be slaughtered. There they found all the king's top advisers pleasantly surprised by Leuco's unexpected appearance.

Empedo recognized the prisoner immediately and came to greet him.

"Leuco, old friend!" he called with a smile. "I see you are staying out of trouble!"

Leuco simply shrugged, "I try my best. How are you, Empedo?"

"As well as one can hope in these trying times. Who is your friend?" Empedo asked, now addressing Maria. "Are you the one who caught our mischievous hawk?"

Leuco nodded his head in his companion's direction. "This is Maria. She saved my life, and so I've promised her an audience with Ursidor."

Maria removed her hood, immediately drawing enchanted stares from the king's loyal servant and bodyguard. He took her hand and bowed low before her.

"A pleasure to meet you, Maria," he said with a charming, suggestive smile.

Maria blushed. She had never been addressed in such a way. She pulled her hand away and looked to Leuco, appearing quite puzzled.

Leuco tried his best to keep Empedo's attention.

"Empedo, where is Ursidor?" he asked.

From behind them, they heard someone exclaim, "So it is true!"

They turned to meet the beautiful woman who had come to greet them.

"Leuco has returned! And it couldn't have been at a better time!"

For a queen, Lady Alesin wore a rather modest teal dress with a navy ribbon tied around her waist. She wore gold-looped earrings, matching bangles around her wrists, and a sapphire necklace around her neck to compliment the color of her eyes. She had long, blond hair that flowed down past her shoulders. Her dress was decorated with a belt of gold medallions just below her waist, and though she was quite young in comparison to her husband, the shadows below her tired, troubled eyes made her appear slightly older than her actual age.

She held Leuco's hands and kissed his cheek. "Thank goodness you're here! I've heard so many horrific stories! You are here to help us, aren't you, Leuco?"

"Well, yes, but..." the old warrior struggled to answer. Instead he introduced Maria.

Lady Alesin's face lit with surprise. "Is this your wife?" she asked.

Maria was speechless.

Leuco replied, shaking his head, "No, no! I'm merely returning a favor. We're here to speak with your husband. Where is he?"

"Right here!"

Everyone turned to see Ursidor and Parnon enter the chamber.

Ursidor studied his unexpected guest as he ceremoniously sat himself upon his throne. He wanted to make sure his former comrade understood who was king.

Maria stood perplexed, watching as everyone slowly backed away from Leuco as if he had suddenly been infected with a contagious disease.

"Have you finally come to face your punishment?" Ursidor asked.

"'Punishment'?"

Leuco was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but he knew that was wishful thinking—especially considering his host was as stubborn as an ass.

"You know very well I deserve none, Ursidor," he replied, purposely calling him by name. He never recognized Ursidor as king, and he knew it bothered the old bear to no end.

With the eyes of the room upon him, the king's face went red. He shook his head as he spoke.

"After all these years, after all this time, you still dare to plead innocence? You've slain one of my men—one of your comrades! Have you no shame? Have you no remorse?"

"He was no comrade of mine! He was a bullying swine who deserved no less! You gave your henchman free reign to rob money from the people. If anyone here is guilty of a crime, it is you!"

Ursidor stood from his throne, fist clenched firmly at his sides.

Maria didn't know the king, but she could see very well his size and strength. She stepped away from Leuco as he approached, thinking it best to stay out of his majesty's way.

"You slew a Brigandine, not some random thug," Ursidor spoke with a pointed finger, "You of all people should know turning against your own is a crime!"

"I know the difference between right and wrong," Leuco retorted, "and your man was a villain!"

"If such is the case, then I deal with it! You seem to forget, Leuco: I am the king! Not you!"

Leuco shook his head. "You are a tyrant!"

"I give the people protection! I give them food! All the money I have rightfully collected has been returned to them to make their lives better! This town, this keep, the mill, the roads—I have built all of these things for the people!"

"You steal from them! And those you cannot steal from, you lock in cages! Is that how you treat innocent people?!"

"'Innocent'?" Ursidor laughed. "I do what I must to keep the peace! If you didn't spend so much time turning my people against me with your criminal ways and civil disobedience, then I wouldn't have to punish them!"

Maria stepped beside Empedo and asked, "What is this all about?"

"This? They've been feuding like this for years."

"Over what?" Maria asked in a low voice.

Empedo came closer and whispered in her ear, "Long ago, the two worked together to rebuild Veredon. At the time, the territory was crawling with hobgoblins and trolls—remnants of the the Dark Lord's army. These monsters refused to surrender, and from their caves in the mountains, they wrecked havoc upon the locals. Under Leuco's leadership, the monsters were pushed back to the forsaken Badlands from which they came."

Maria flinched, not from Empedo's revelation, but from the breach of personal space. Though uncomfortable, she tried her best to piece the story together.

"So why is he an outlaw?"

"While he was away fighting, a band of Brigandines went around town demanding the people pay 'protection fees.' When they came to a local chandler, he refused to pay. The soldiers wanted to make an example of him and so they ruthlessly beat him to death, took his money, and burned his shop to the ground. The daughter saw everything and, when Leuco returned, she ran to him for protection. In his attempt to save the girl, he slew one of the rogue Brigandines."

Maria, still confused, asked, "But these men were criminals, were they not? Where is the controversy?"

"At the time, the two debated whether a keep should be built for protection. Ursidor was convinced Leuco was trying to turn the people against him to thwart its construction," Empedo replied still whispering. "And as for Leuco, he still believes Ursidor ordered his men to steal from the people in order to become king."

Maria shook her head, "This is nonsense!"

She waited for a pause in the warriors' argument then approached the throne. Kneeling low, she announced, "Your Highness, whatever your conflict was with Leuco in the past, surely you agree that there are more pressing matters."

All in the room stared in surprise, including the Veredonian King.

"Excuse me, young lady, but who exactly are you?" he asked.

Maria stood and bowed low as to mimic the custom in their kingdom. "My name is Maria. I have traveled a great distance from the forest of Valinon to meet with you and ask for your help."

"And what kind of help can I offer you, Maria?" the king asked, as he calmly sat back in his throne.

"The one known as Canidae is committing crimes that are putting everyone—your kingdom, your people, and your family—in grave danger. I have come to warn you of a great peril beyond the threat of war. For the sake of your people, Canidae must be stopped at all costs and as soon as possible. If the destruction of my forest continues, there may be repercussions from forces far beyond your defenses."

"Young lady," Ursidor laughed, "are you threatening me?"

"No, my lord. We share a common enemy. In fact, I am willing to do what I can to assist you in your struggle. However, I must insist, for your sake, that he be dealt with haste."

"And if I do not?" he asked.

"Then a great plague will fall upon your people—all people will suffer and many will die."

"'All will suffer and many will die'? Young lady that is the definition of war! We've heard this sort of Xenos talk before! We are not convinced, and we are not afraid!"

"This is no sermon, your highness. There are forces at work deep in the wilderness that you do not truly understand..."

Ursidor could be quite stubborn at times, especially in heated argument. He was king, and in his mind, there was nothing beyond his understanding.

"Enough! We have already begun preparations for war. I make it policy to end all battles as swiftly as possible. Believe me, young lady, Canidae will be dealt with!"

Of all the Guardians, Leuco knew Canidae to be the most brilliant. His crafty schemes helped Cervusian turn the tide of many losing battles. If Canidae the Fox was truly waging a campaign against Veredon, Leuco knew it would be best not to underestimate him.

"And what of the encampments along the southern road?" Leuco asked. "Maria claims they are making their own preperations."

Ursidor began to lose his patience. He was starting to think these two had only come to challenge his authority. He rose from his throne and approached the bound veteran.

"I have patrols keeping surveillance all throughout the kingdom. We know all about their siege weapons and food stores!"

"And what about the innocent farmers along the northern road? Are they being protected? There have been reports of raids—"

"I already dispatched a patrol to the area earlier today. Do you really think me so callous, Leuco?"

Ursidor had had enough. Leuco had been trying to undermine him yet again—this time with the help of some strange bounty-hunting woman. It was time for the conversation to end.

"Trust me," Ursidor began, "this battle will be brief. Canidae does not have the resources, nor the food, to maintain a long siege. The people of his kingdom are already starving and are rabidly preoccupied with a fear of death. They do not have the morale, nor the strength to sustain a lengthy battle."

Ursidor stopped right in the face of Leuco and put his hand on his shoulder. "Fear not, old friend. We will be victorious."

He turned to Maria.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do. Empedo will give you your reward on your way out." He bowed his head as a sign of respect and began to leave. Suddenly he stopped, remembering what he had almost forgotten.

"Oh, and Empedo," he added, "be sure to have Leuco escorted to the kennel yard."

"But, my lord—

Ursidor eyes lit; Empedo turned away in silence.

"Perhaps," Parnon offered, "his strength could be of use, my lord. We are likely to be outnumbered by Canidae's forces."

"Perhaps, Parnon," Ursidor replied, as the edge of his lips began to curl into a menacing smile. "But for now, I want to see him rot in the cages!"

Chapter XXII

Captured

"So where are you taking us, Reeze?" Grecos asked.

Grecos had a terrible habit of breaking formation. Parnon was usually quick to keep him in line, but so far, Reeze hadn't said a word.

"We usually take the southern road, you know?" Grecos called out to his commander, lining up next to his friend Ruse and near his rival Nephia.

"Hey, Nephio! Do you think your little kitty cat legs can handle the steep mountain terrain?"

Nephia tried to ignore him, but she couldn't help herself.

"Do you think your fat mouth can handle my fists breaking your teeth?"

The resulting laughter infuriated the gangling stable boy.

"That's it!" He pulled his arm back as if to take a swing. Ruse stepped in to hold him back.

"Hey, calm down, Grecos. Get back in line!"

Reeze had overheard the whole incident, and thought to himself of how his troops were really no more than a wild bunch of brats. Hadn't Parnon taught these soldiers any discipline?

Reeze abruptly stopped and turned to the instigator, tightly bracing the hilt of his blade. He looked Grecos straight in the eyes and spoke between his teeth.

"Get. In line. NOW!"

Grecos was startled. He had been scolded by Parnon before, but never like that. Working with the Headmaster of the Royal Guard gave Grecos a sense of privilege and superiority over the other patrol, so he obeyed Parnon mostly out of respect. Reeze, however, was clearly trying to intimidate him. Grecos wondered: would he truly lash out with his sword?

He thought it best not to find out.

Reeze lead the young soldiers up the northern road, through the emerald rolling fields and up along the reflecting, crystal waters of Mono Lake. Ahead of them, lying just below the granite cliffs, nestled between the rocky hills, was what appeared to be an abandoned homestead.

Reese set them in an infiltrating formation. He took the point flanked by Ruse and Nephia. Grecos and the others spread out into three groups.

Reeze directed them into their positions around the perimeter. One group cautiously approached the barn; another surrounded the store house. Grecos's group acted as support for the point entering the home.

"I don't like this," Ruse said to Nephia.

His sincerity caught her off guard. She tried to shake off his apprehension.

"What's wrong?" she asked, using her manliest voice. "You scared of a little action?"

Ruse didn't bother responding. He was busy watching as Reeze cautiously opened the door of the house.

The pair closely followed Reeze's pattern inside the abandoned home. They immediately caught the putrid stench of rotting flesh hanging heavy in the air. They covered their noses with the back of their hands to protect themselves form the nauseating odor.

The house was dimly lit by a small rectangular window in the wall opposite the door. The walls were white and plastered with cracked wattle and daub stained with streaks of blood. Each wall had a long single shelf made of a long wooden plank that was supported by rods extending from the walls. Atop the shelves were clay pots, leather bags, and numerous tools.

There was a bed by the door, and beside it was a small fire place. There was an open chest that had been rummaged through that rested next to a small table with two chairs.

This was certainly one of the more elegant homes in the area—at least before the bloody slaughter.

Ruse and Nephia followed the trail of blood drops to below the window. There, in the corner, Ruse found a pool of dried blood, along with a discovery he had difficulty identifying.

"I found... something!" Ruse called, covering his nose. "Or someone..."

Nephia approached to get a closer look. She gasped and covered her mouth to keep from crying out and throwing up.

The two were too distracted to notice Reeze close the door behind them. Quietly, he braced it with its plank.

"They took her limbs," Ruse pointed out. "All of them!"

"Why would they do that?" Nephia asked, obviously not familiar with the savage behavior of Veredonian monsters.

"This was a troll attack," Ruse replied. He mimicked the act of eating a drumstick. "They feast on the flesh of humans."

"Ugh!" Nephia turned away in disgust.

The pair was suddenly startled by a frantic banging on the door. It was Grecos. He called out to Reeze, desperately screaming for help.

Before Nephia could react, Reeze had already come up from behind and knocked her over the head with his shield.

Ruse reached for his blade, but it was too late. He felt the cold pummel of Reeze's sword bash into his nose.

Ruse stumbled to get up. He was on his hands and knees watching his blood drip onto the dirt. That's when Reeze kicked him across the head, sending the young prince into utter darkness.

*

Bo made his way through the darkness of night, navigating through the maze of cages in the kennel yard. He shined his torch onto every cage, looking for his old mentor.

Bo knew very well what horrors awaited one sentenced to the cages. As a young pickpocket running along the dirt roads of Keeptown, he lived in constant fear of them. He tried his best to avoid stepping anywhere near the kennel yard. Now in the dead of night, he walked among them, facing his fears yet again, looking for his old friend.

There were very few empty cages left in the kennel yard. Nearly every cage was filled with some unfortunate shadow. As Bo walked through the rows, each one suddenly shook and came to life. Some, he discovered, even had visitors.

Often, brave family members stopped by to bring food, or to simply spend precious time with their loved ones. Such a couple had been meeting with their son when they saw Bo creep by. Noticing his green headband, they watched suspiciously as he passed.

Many prisoners hollered at him, calling out obscene curses or merely what sounded like deliberate gibberish. They took great pleasure in trying to frighten him.

Bo tried his best to be brave, reminding himself that they were locked behind bars. Bo cast his light upon them in response to their empty threats. The flickering flame revealed creatures far too pitiful to be human.

In the dark, he could hear a single voice praying aloud to Xenos. The man was begging for a swift death and angrily called for a violent reckoning against his jailors. The hateful voice was oddly familiar.

Bo finally recognized the caged prisoner as the speaker from town who had condemned him and Nephia to Oblivion weeks before.

Other caged convicts were far more quiet. Dead quiet. Bo curiously cast his torchlight upon these poor souls. They were slumped on their sides, turning in their sleep in response to the warmth of the fire. These prisoners spent their time sleeping, desperately trying to escape their hunger and despair. For these poor souls, unconsciousness was their only relief.

Just when Bo began to consider turning back to his barracks, he heard a voice call his name. He turned and brought his torch closer to the whisper from within the nearby cage. He recognized his mentor's familiar face: his piercing eyes, sharp nose, and pointed chin.

"So it is true!" Bo cried.

Bo pulled his short sword from his side. "Don't worry! I'll get you out of here!"

Leuco shook his head and waved his hands. "No, Bo."

Bo raised his eyebrows in confusion. "What do you mean, 'No'? I'm not going to let you rot in there! I'm getting you of here right now!"

Leuco put his hands over the lock and chains, keeping Bo from breaking them open. "I'm not leaving."

"Hey, boy!" came another voice. "If he don't want out, why not set me free, huh?"

Bo turned his attention back to Leuco.

"Why, Leuco? Why do you want to stay here?" he asked pointing to the source of the stranger's call.

Leuco tried to reason with his former student.

"If you break me out, Bo, that means you'll be breaking the law and going against everything I taught you. I won't have you do that, and I certainly won't have Ursidor coming after you. I don't want to see you get caught up in any more trouble. You don't want to end up here, too, do you?"

"But you're no criminal! I was a pickpocket and you turned me straight! You saved me! You've saved hundreds of people! That's what you do! This is no place for a hero!"

"Hey, boy! I'm a hero! Let me out!" the neighboring stranger called out again.

Bo responded by putting his sword back in its sheath. "It's just not right, Leuco," he pleaded.

"Who's to say what's right and what's not?" Leuco asked. "I've slain many people in my past, Bo. In the eyes of my enemies, am I any more than a killer?"

"That's different, Leuco, and you know it!"

Leuco took a deep breath, "There are some stories I haven't told you. There are many things I've done in my past for which I am ashamed... This may come as a surprise to you, Bo, but when I was about your age, I served in the Dark Lord's army. I was one of Rodin's Regulators."

Bo couldn't believe what he was hearing. The Regulators were no better than the trolls. They raided the villages and enslaved the people. Leuco was a legendary Guardian of Valinon. How could he have been one of their greatest enemies?

"I don't believe it," Bo countered, shaking his head.

"This was before Rodin became the powerful Dark Lord, but I still helped him. I helped him conquer the lands of Veredon. I fought many battles under his black banner," Leuco continued with an exhaustive sigh, "and I've regretted it all my life."

Leuco had more to tell the boy—more of his dark past, and more about his evil father. Bo, however, had no desire to hear it. The old warrior's words only confused him. He tried to change the subject and made light of Leuco's revelations.

"You've only been here for a day and already you're talking like a crazy person!"

Leuco sighed, "At least here, I may find some peace."

"Peace?!" Bo cried. "This isn't peace! It's a prison!"

Bo scratched his head. He wanted to free his mentor. He wanted to tell him that no matter what he did in his past; he had more than made up for it as a hero. Perhaps there was still the possibility that they would set him free. After all, they were in the middle of a war. Wars need warriors. Who would deny Leuco the Hawk his place on the battlefield?

"This is only temporary, Leuco," Bo said. "You'll be out of here in no time!"

Bo could hear chuckling from the nearby cages, "'Temporary'? Now, who's talking crazy!"

"Boy," another stranger added, "Your friend has already lost his mind!"

The cages erupted in sinister laughter.

"Don't listen to them," Bo said. "You'll be out soon. And if I'm wrong; if Ursidor doesn't let you out, I'll come back and do it myself! If he doesn't have the sense to set you free, then the fool doesn't deserve my service either!"

Leuco grabbed the bars of his cage. He recalled Maria's warning of pestilence and death.

"Listen to me," he said, reaching out for Bo's arm. "I may be stuck here, at least for now, but that doesn't change your responsibility! Ursidor needs your help! You promise me, no matter what happens to me, you'll see this through to the end!"

Bo stammered, "B-But I thought you didn't like Ursidor?"

"He's a stubborn fool, and yes, he lacks compassion; but he fights against the greater evil! Promise me you'll stand up to challenge Canidae!"

"I will," Bo said. "Of course, I promise."

"There's a woman staying with Cimmie," Leuco added, "A hunter from Valinon. Her name is Maria. Look for her. She will help you."

Bo nodded.

"And tell Cimmie... tell Cimmie I'll see her soon," Leuco winked.

His old mentor's confidence was infectious.

"Of course," Bo smiled. "Don't worry, I'll be back. You just try to get some rest."

After saying goodbye, Leuco watched as his young pupil departed. His eyes followed the torchlight as it turned the corner and disappeared into the night.

Leuco secretly hoped Bo was right about getting out. He thought about the boy who approached him outside of Cimmie's Inn. The old Guardian had committed himself to fighting for the people of Veredon, and he knew that was something he couldn't do locked away like a dog.

Leuco heard calls from his neighboring cages.

"Hey, hero!" one called. "You should stick around!"

Another joined in, "Yeah, we're giving out medals later!"

All around him, Leuco could hear the sounds of echoing laughter. His humiliation provided his neighbors with an evening's worth of deprived entertainment.

Leuco let out a deep sigh and covered his ears to tune out the wave of barking insults. He stretched himself on the bottom of his cell, careful not to agitate his aching back. Then, like a bear sheltering against the bitter winter, the old, exhausted warrior fell fast asleep. In his dreams, he saw the emerald valley of his homeland covered with fields of burning funeral pyres.

Chapter XXIII

Ransom

"So this is the little bear," Ruse heard a slithering voice say.

Ruse's body ached, and his brain felt sore. For a brief moment, he wasn't sure if he was alive or dead. All he knew was that he was in terrible pain and was incredibly cold.

Ruse opened his eyes, immediately startled by an ominous pair of yellow eyes staring fiercely into his. They had been examining his face very closely. Beyond them, he could see they belonged to a rather large, and rather repulsive, dark-green figure. Its foul odor made him cringe. He tried to cover his nose, but his hands were bound behind his back. He tried to pull them free but quickly realized he was tied to what appeared to be a stalagmite mound.

"Such an ugly creature!" the green monster declared, studying his face.

This was Na'balit.

"It looks nothing like the father!"

Ruse turned his head away, trying not to see, or smell, his kidnapper.

"Look who's talking," he replied, speaking through his teeth.

"I see you have your father's courage. Perhaps you are very much like him after all," she said, pointing with her finger. "You certainly are just as foolish!"

Turning to face her, Ruse proclaimed, "I am nothing like my father!"

Na'balit peered curiously into his eyes. "You do not like your father?" she asked.

"That is none of your business!" he replied.

"Oh, but it is!" she corrected. "You are our business now, little bear! You were a but a gift of gratitude from Canidae. But we have had our full of meat. Now we are holding you for ransom! Your father will pay us well to see you returned unharmed. It is a good business, don't you think?"

Ruse smiled and shook his head. "You're wasting your time," he said. "My father won't pay you a dime! He doesn't care what happens to me!"

"Oh, but I'm sure he does. He is a king, and all kings need an heir—a legacy. You are worth more to him than you think, little bear! That is fortunate for both of us! You keep your life, and we get more gold!"

"I'm telling you: that doesn't matter to him! He doesn't care about me or my mother..."

"Oh, boo hoo hoo," she teased, pretending to wipe tears with her hands. "Then we'll just have to kill you and send your head to your father! That was, after all, Canidae's request. Is that yours as well?"

"Perhapth they will come to rethue him and thuh female," a lisping voice warned from behind.

Da'hij had a horrible habit of voicing his unwelcome opinion. It had already cost him his tongue, and unfortunately for him, it had begun to grow back.

Na'balit gave him a threatening glare. Her brother Da'hij had difficulty remembering his place.

Ruse watched their flickering shadows against the the cave wall. Na'balit had tried to reach for his face, but the smaller troll covered it in defense. This, however, left his arms fully exposed.

Da'hij screamed.

Na'balit pulled and pulled until she ripped his arm from its socket and then used it to smack him straight across the face.

"What have I told you!?" she grunted, as she waved the bloody limb about.

Da'hij cowered in the corner, holding his black bloody shoulder, struggling to say the words over his rapid breathing, "I wath only trying to help!"

"Were you not at the slaughter earlier? You saw how these humans fight! If they are foolish enough to plan to attack us, then they will merely be sending us another filling feast!"

Ruse shook his head in disgust.

Na'balit returned to the young prince. She caught his chin with her hands and gently squeezed his cheek, "Don't worry!" she said. "Papa bear will want this one back safe and sound!"

*

"My lord, we've just received word from Reeze!"

Canidae had just reached the bottom of the spiral stairway, when he heard the call from above.

"Bring it down here, Faiden," he called.

Canidae waved his torch in the dark, revealing the shelves of skulls and bones that ran all along the narrow corridor.

Faiden had fallen in behind him, carrying a rolled parchment in his hand.

"Read it to me," Canidae said.

Faiden was distracted by the sight of human corpses. He felt somewhat uncomfortable with the sight of death and sniffing rats squeaking all around him. He held his torch closer to the parchment and cleared his throat.

"My Lord Canidae. Our plan was a success. The son of Ursidor is currently in the custody of Na'balit's tribe. She awaits further instructions. All preparations for assault at the Nephi outpost have been completed. I await your command for mobilization. Reeze."

"Well," Canidae began, "I must say! I had my doubts leaving such a task to the shameless turncoat, but it seems he has certainly come through. Does he know you already murdered Leuco?"

"I believe so, my lord."

"Well, that should make him happy, but you can never tell with the vengeful sort. Sometimes they can be quite irrational. It doesn't take much for a man of rage to lose his head."

He picked up a skull and studied it. "I'm sure he wishes he had done it himself..."

Canidae tossed the skull behind him and continued his search.

"Order him to move out, but not to begin the siege until I arrive. I will lead the assault myself. "

"My lord?" Faiden asked, unable to contain his curiosity. "What, may I ask, are we doing in the catacombs?"

Canidae stopped at a great marble sarcophagus bearing the likeness of King Cervusian. He pointed to the tomb. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked.

In the flickering torch light, Faiden could see a wicked smile stretched across his mentor's face. Canidae raised his prying bar from his side and finally confirmed what Faiden had already suspected.

He raised the tomb's heavy lid and gestured for Faiden to help push it aside.

Faiden turned it to expose the contents within. He covered his nose with the back of his hand. The smell of death was nearly as terrible as the sight. The dust finally settled, revealing the frightful bones of a slumbering corpse.

"Fear is what started this war, Faiden," Canidae explained, wiping his hands clean.

"And fear is what shall bring it to its end."

*

When Lady Alesin first learned the news of Ruse's capture, she was delirious. She stormed into her husband's court, violently disrupting their careful planning. She marched right up to Ursidor and began to shout in his face, demanding he take action to rescue their son.

Ursidor refused to lead his army so far out into the mountains for a single boy. Everyone in the hills were being attacked by trolls. How could he rationalize such a response to his people? What would they say? Even if he did send a search party, it could take days, perhaps weeks, to find him. They were on the verge of a siege and needed every man to defend the castle and prepare for the attack. Ursidor concluded that it was his duty to protect his kingdom.

His cold reaction infuriated Alesin. This was their son—their only son! How could he abandon him? How could he be so heartless?

It was then that Parnon suggested calling upon Leuco for help.

Leuco had more experience dealing with trolls than any other warrior in Veredon. He also was quite familiar with the area. This proposal gave Alesin hope, and she immediately demanded his release. When Ursidor refused, she bombarded him with guilt.

Shamelessly, in front of his court of advisers and commanders, she reminded him of his crazed obsession with Lady Lara, and how, even after their own wedding, his lingering infatuation had turned him into a hollow, insensitive monster. She reminded him of how she felt loveless and alone in their home, and how in the face of rejection and humiliation she loyally stood by him. Ruse was the only thing that gave her joy, and she was disgusted at just how easy it was for him to throw their son away.

Ursidor couldn't respond. His shame was an open wound and it pained him deeply to even think of it. Burdened by his guilt, he finally conceded to Parnon's proposal.

*

Early the next morning, Leuco was awakened by the loud commotion in the kennel yard. All the prisoners were hollering out in celebration. Leuco asked his neighboring inmate what was happening.

"Someone is being freed today!" he exclaimed with great optimism.

"Who knows? It might even be you, hero!" another teased.

The rumble of shaking iron bars grew louder and louder as a pair of officials marched through the cages.

They were headed Leuco's way.

"This is him," one of the officials announced.

The other's keys rattled in his hands as he spoke. "Leuco, you're coming with us."

Bo was right. Kings don't win battles; soldiers do. Ursidor couldn't keep him in the cages forever. The stubborn fool needed him.

The other prisoners called out in jealous protest as they opened his cage.

"Hey, hero! Don't forget about us!"

"Let us go! We're heroes too!

The cages rattled all around them as the officials led the bound warrior out of the kennel yard. Leuco could feel the piercing jealousy from the eyes of the poor souls being left behind.

*

Leuco was escorted behind the castle walls, down the long corridors, and finally through the double doors that lead into the king's throne room. There, Ursidor and Parnon were waiting, both with grave expressions on their faces.

"What can I do for you this fine day, Ursidor?" Leuco asked cheerfully. He didn't expect the king to beg for his help, but he was at least hoping to hear an apology.

Ursidor struggled for a moment, his right hand covering his mouth as if he didn't want the words to come out. He ordered the two guards to close the double doors.

Leuco looked on in amusement.

Finally, after he took a few breaths, the king spoke.

"I need your help, Leuco."

Leuco pretended to lose his hearing. "You need my help?"

"Let's not play games, Leuco. You know why you're here," the king responded.

"'Play games'?" Leuco was clearly upset. "I already offered you my help! That was when you decided it would be fun to lock me up, remember?"

Lady Alesin entered the room from the adjacent chapel. It was clear from the tears in her eyes that she had been praying and crying for quite some time. She had heard Leuco's raised voice and bitter tone. It was just as she expected.

She took Leuco's bound hands in hers. "My son has been kidnapped, Leuco," she struggled to say, trying to hold back her tears. "Please, we need your help."

Leuco was ashamed. He didn't mean to act so callously. He was upset with Ursidor, but he certainly had no quarrel with his wife or child.

"Who has done this?" he asked.

"They were on patrol in the northern hills," Parnon explained. "One of my veteran officers, by the name of Reeze, took my unit out without my knowledge to investigate the attacks. Only one young soldier has returned. He claims they were ambushed by trolls. We believe it was a trap."

"Clearly," Leuco agreed, "this 'Reeze' has taken your child."

"Your reputation of hunting trolls is well-known throughout this land," Ursidor said, standing from his throne. "If they did in fact take our son, I know you can find him."

Ursidor took his dagger from his side and cut the rope binding Leuco's hands.

"Of course," Leuco replied, massaging his wrists. "I will do what I can to help."

"Parnon will assist you, should you need any support."

Leuco put his arm on the king's shoulder. "I will find your son," he said and then turned to Lady Alesin. "You have my word."

He turned his attention back to her husband. "There is something, however, I must ask for in return."

"What is it you want, Leuco?" Ursidor asked, both puzzled and frustrated that Leuco would risk prolonging their feud. He had lost his only son, and now the thought of another argument with Leuco was simply infuriating.

Leuco could tell he had to be careful with his words. He didn't want to give Ursidor any more grief.

"I must ask—no beg," he said getting down on his knee, "that you consider letting the people in the cages go free. These men, whether innocent or not, fear for their families, not for themselves. If you were to offer them freedom in return for military service, I promise you they will loyally serve your cause and defend your keep."

Ursidor shook his head in disbelief. Even in the wake of tragedy, he thought to himself, Leuco chooses to incite disorder. Is his freedom not enough?

Lady Alesin put her hand on the king's shoulder and gave him a cold glare.

"Very well, Leuco," Ursidor reluctantly agreed. "Return Ruse to us, and all their crimes will be forgiven." He signaled for Parnon to come near.

"Parnon, make sure Leuco has everything he needs for his journey."

At that moment, the double doors of the throne room suddenly reopened. Empedo stood in the doorway.

"My lord! It's been reported that Canidae's army is on the move. They're headed this way!"

*

Out on the parapet of the castle walls, the king's court watched over the horizon, waiting for the enemy to arrive.

From behind the high rising hills, the first lines of Canidae's infantry appeared—their white banners streaming across the horizon like a parade of rolling clouds. Next the heavily armored cavalry appeared, followed by a long string of marching archers and scores of crusading peasants.

Parnon counted them out. There must have been nearly three hundred armored footman, at least two dozen riders, and easily fifty archers—not counting the throng of rabid peasants from the farming valleys of Valinon.

The advancing army clearly outnumbered their defending forces.

"That still won't be enough to breach these walls," Parnon said. "We should be well-protected, and well-supplied, for at least a few weeks. A month, perhaps, but I doubt it will come to that."

"They will still have to construct their siege weapons," Empedo added. "That gives us time to pick them to pieces with our missiles. With enough ammunition, we may never even have to leave the castle."

"You speak too soon, Empedo," Ursidor replied, pointing to the enemy's late arrivals. "Look! Those oxen pull wagons with assembled parts of siege towers." He pointed to one, "That is clearly a ram car; and look there!"

It took many men and animals to move the last of the wheeled structures loaded with towering piles of cargo. They were pulling wheeled portions of enormous war machines the size of which they had never seen before.

"Are those...?"

Empedo was afraid to say it aloud.

Ursidor counted them. "Yes. There are three of them."

"Three catapults," Parnon repeated. "And from the size of them, I'd say quite capable of bringing down these walls in a matter of hours!"

The men looked at one another, their silence expressing their collective fears.

Below they heard the guards from the bastion call for the gates to open. They watched as Leuco led his band of young soldiers on horseback out into the valley to rescue the king's kidnapped son.

Ursidor stared silently, secretly hoping there would still be a castle left standing when they returned.

Chapter XXIV

Fear

To say that Grecos was reluctant to join the rescue party would be a gross understatement.

Having barely escaped with his life, Grecos refused to return to the homestead where he and his unit had been viciously ambushed. The experience was traumatizing, to say the least, and his recollections of the massacre were beginning to have negative effects in the barracks as well.

Parnon could see that allowing Grecos to stay behind would only serve to demoralize the keep's defenders. Thus, he offered the frightened stable boy a choice: lead Leuco's assembled party back to the gory sight of the troll attack, or be discharged and locked in the cages.

In spite of his fear, or perhaps because of it, Grecos finally agreed to help.

*

They rode on horseback, traveling through the abandoned farmland of the Northern Hills. Leuco had recruited Bo, Maria, and Hectus for support. He prepared them with instructions on how to best engage their enemy, and more importantly, how to finish them off.

When Leuco's party reached the abandoned homestead, they were greeted with a gruesome scene unlike any they had ever experienced.

The young heroes stared in shock and horror at the sight of what they could only assume were the reeking, dismembered bodies of their fallen comrades now infested with buzzing flies and writhing maggots.

Bo searched for Nephia's body. Grecos told him he last saw her in the house, but inside all they found was another set of mangled bones far older than the others.

Bo couldn't find any sign of Nephia. Perhaps she escaped as well, he thought. It was more likely, however, that she was taken with Ruse. Either way, there was still a small chance she was still alive. He wanted to believe she was still out there.

Maria watched as the young Regulars studied the bodies of their fallen comrades. She could see the sorrow and fear behind their silent faces. She had seen death before, but never like this, and never with humans. The bloody bodies scattered about the farm were brutally mutilated. All were missing limbs, and many others were missing heads—trophies for the tribe of marauding monsters.

It was clear that Ruse's group had been taken completely by surprise, and that the trolls, indeed, had had a frightening feast.

Leuco had expected as much. He was quite familiar with such atrocities. He was surprised, however, by the location. Since pushing their forces back beyond the mountains, the trolls had never gone this far south. He thought he had kept them at bay with his hunting. What could have inspired such a brazen attack so deep into human territory?

"There," he said pointing above to the jagged portion of the towering cliffs in the distance. "They're out there somewhere, hiding in the caves."

"How do you know?" Maria asked.

"Because that's where we usually find them. Right, Bo?" Leuco said, offering his former pupil a sly smile.

"You actually go looking for these creatures?" Maria asked.

"Shouldn't we give them their last rites?" Hectus interrupted. He was pointing to the bodies scattered all around them. "These were Veredonian soldiers. They deserve a proper ceremony. Aren't we going to burn the bodies?"

"The trolls don't know we're coming," Leuco explained, "but if we light fires, they'll be able to see the smoke from their lair. I don't want to surrender our advantage. Do you?"

Hectus shook his head.

"Then let's get going."

Leuco kicked his horse and steered his reins towards the surrounding shelves of mountains.

"Grecos!" Bo called. "Where are you going?"

Grecos was already headed in the opposite direction.

"I'm heading back to Keeptown! I was told I only had to lead you here! Now I'm going home!" He pointed high above to mountain peaks. "You don't seriously expect me to follow you there, do you?"

Leuco stopped and turned his steed around.

"Actually, we do. We're going to need your help."

"We don't even know if Ruse is up there! He could be dead for all we know!"

"Still, you're coming with us."

"No, no, no, no! I'm not going there! You can't make me!"

"You're right," Leuco replied. "I can't. But you've already come this far, and it's going to be hell going back."

"What do you mean?"

"Canidae's forces are already surrounding Keeptown. Heading back alone would be a mistake."

"But, but..."

"Trust me, soldier. You're safer with us."

*

They traveled up the rocky hills on horseback until they reached the massive granite cliffs. There they began their ascent, hiking along the trail leading up to the network of shallow nooks and dark foreboding caverns.

They spread themselves out over the narrow ridge of towering rock, hiking up the rough terrain in a single file towards the peak of the colossal white mountain.

These cliffs were the face of the Bordering Mountain Range. On the other side of these massive rocks were the aptly called Badlands—a brutally arid environment home to the monsters of the Dark Lord's vanquished army. Few humans dared to travel so close to their territory.

Leuco's party peered into every man-sized hole in the rocks, looking for large caves between the boulders.

Finally, Leuco stopped his team. He took a whiff of the air. He recognized their horrid scent and signaled for everyone to get down and to be quiet. Everyone leaned low against the rock face, listening for whatever it was that Leuco had found. All they heard was the whistling of the wind and the distant call of a soaring eagle.

"Is it them?" Grecos nervously asked, his voice nearly shaking.

Bo narrowed his eyes and responded with a quick, demanding finger to his lips—the universal sign for silence.

Grecos was never very good with following directions. "It's them, isn't it?" he asked again. "They're going to catch us!"

Hectus whacked him across the head and hissed, "Be quiet!"

Leuco signaled for Grecos to come closer.

Grecos shook his head. He wanted to make sure he had enough space between him and whatever it was that Leuco was tracking. Leuco signaled again, this time with a threatening stare. Grecos cursed to himself and then slowly crouched down to the veteran's side.

Leuco handed him a torch. "Here," he said. "Make yourself useful and light this." Then, he turned to Bo. "There's only one, probably a sentry," he whispered. "That means we're close. Very close."

Behind the guard, Leuco could see there was in fact a wide crevice in the wall of fallen rock. That, he knew, had to be the entrance to the troll's den.

Grecos tried to light the fire quietly, but the clack, clack of his flint and steel had already triggered the attention of the nearby troll. It caught the scent of human flesh and now the curious sound had made it even more suspicious. Its yellow eyes scanned the rocks and its long pointed ears listened for the faint sound of Grecos's scraping.

Leuco rolled the golden Liberator in his hands, its surface gleaming with the light of the afternoon sun.

"Remember," he said. "We go just as I told you."

Everyone watched silently as he slowly mouthed the words: one... two...

On three he made his move, charging at the monster with his great axe raised high above his head.

The troll let out a fierce cry and raised its club to meet the attack. The troll swung first, swinging wide and missing completely. Leuco had timed his response perfectly and swung his mighty axe around and upward, instantly decapitating his foe. Its headless body stood still, hands fully extended, frozen in shock.

Leuco then kicked the body on the ground and immediately began to hack away at its corpse.

Everyone watched in amazement.

When he was done, Leuco stood up, towering over the bloody mess. He rested his golden axe upon his shoulder and looked back at the mesmerized group. He wiped the dark drops of blood from his face. "See?" he smiled. "There's nothing to it!"

He pointed back to the heaping pile of chopped troll. "Grecos!" he called. "Light it up!"

Grecos had been distracted by the whole scene. He immediately went back to lighting his torch, his fingers trembling the whole while. Amazingly, he quickly sparked a tiny flame. He blew the kindling softly, watching the fire slowly grow. With the torch lit, he reluctantly stood, beginning to tentatively approach what was left of the troll's minced body.

He looked over the grisly parts scattered all about and cautiously crept up to what he could only assume was once a foot.

He could see the black clawed toes rhythmically twitch.

"Don't forget the head," Bo reminded him.

Grecos cringed at the thought of looking into the creature's horrible yellow eyes. He slowly and carefully extended his arm out as far as he could.

The foot suddenly shook and flipped in the air.

Reacting out of fear, Grecos violently prodded the limb with his torch, trying to force it as far away from him as possible.

Everyone laughed.

He lit the other parts on the ground, just as he did the first, but now he was shouting out foul curses.

Maria stood beside Leuco, who had been watching in amusement. She raised an eyebrow.

"Is it wise to bring him along?"

"He needs to overcome his fear," Leuco replied. "Besides he's safer with us than on his own."

"You seem to be making light of the situation. Have you ever been inside a troll's den?" she asked.

Leuco's smile quickly disappeared from his face.

"Yes," he replied, gazing into the dark mouth of the cave. "A long time ago."

Leuco thought it best not to share the details.

Chapter XXV

The Rescue

"Nephio, is that you?" Ruse asked, turning his head to speak to the shuffling captive behind him.

"Yeah, I'm here," Nephia replied, trying to writhe out of her bonds.

Ruse could tell from the sound of her voice that she was hanging from the cavern's ceiling.

"Quiet, humans!"

The barking troll guarding them was almost as big as Na'balit and smelled nearly as foul. He had a broad forehead, and a pair of beady yellow eyes that dug deep into his skull. His head was long and the back of it came to a sharp point covered with a mop of black hair.

Ruse noticed a single, intimidating fang coming out from behind his lower lip. He also noticed a dripping string of thick drool running down his chin.

The prince decided it best to keep quiet.

Earlier, just before Na'balit tore at her smaller brother, Ruse was certain he had heard the lisping troll say female. He wondered who the monsters were talking about. Could it be, he wondered, they were talking about Nephio?

Ruse had always suspected something strange about the scrawny recruit. Yes, he was rather small and certainly had delicate features, but he was a fierce fighter. He couldn't possibly be a girl—could he?

"Ith you hear tha?"

Ruse heard the lisping, one-armed troll speak yet again.

"Do you want to lose your other arm, Da'hij?" Na'balit warned.

"I heard thumthing, I thwear!" Da'hij protested.

"You know," the big troll with the single fang added, "I think I can smell something, too!"

"Well, I think maybe you two should go check it out!" Na'balit barked.

Da'hij and his brother grabbed their clubs and made their way down the corridor to investigate.

By now, the sun had slowly began to set, and outside the mouth of the cave, it was already growing dark with the dwindling light of dusk.

As the pair of trolls walked, they sniffed the cavern's damp air, following what they believed to be the enticing scent of human blood.

That's when a torch flew out before them, lighting the tunnel with its bright flickering flame.

Another torch was thrown across from the first, illuminating the cavern even more.

For a moment, the two creatures were mesmerized by their own dancing shadows across the rocks. They looked down upon the stinging lights and realized they were under attack.

Bo and Hectus led the ambush, shields on one arm, weapons in the other. Bo took the taller one with the single fang. He charged at him with his spear and pierced him through the stomach. He expected the troll to double over and fall to the ground, at which point he planned to chop the filthy creature to pieces with his short sword.

Unfortunately, the blow had absolutely no effect. With his spiked club, the monster counterattacked. Bo raised his shield in defense, but the force of the troll's spiked club penetrated its surface, as well as his arm.

Bo first felt pain; then he felt his feet lift off the ground.

Raising Bo and his pierced shield with him, the giant monster swung his spiked club back and launched the young warrior and his shield far across the chamber, slamming them both against the cavern wall.

When the troll turned to meet his next victim, he felt the hot sting of a flaming arrow pierce his flesh. He immediately pulled the shaft from his chest and threw it aside. He let out a ferocious roar, raised his club, and charged towards Maria.

Maria drew another arrow from her quiver and quickly let it fly, this time hitting the monster directly in the forehead.

Though the arrow was lodged deep into his brain, the enraged troll continued his assault, roaring as he approached.

As Maria reached for her dagger, she saw the troll violently jerk, then thrown back into the cavern wall. Out of the monster's hip was the golden shaft of Leuco's battle axe.

"Are you alright?" Leuco asked, removing his weapon from the troll's body, as well as the surface of the rock.

"Yes, thank you," Maria said, a bit disoriented from the experience. She had never been so close to death. She was accompanying the old warrior merely to help keep him safe. She never expected to need any saving herself.

"Just returning the favor," Leuco said as he casually hacked the flaming troll to pieces.

*

Hectus was locked in combat with the one-armed Da'hij. He had seen what these monsters were capable of, and he was not at all interested in getting too close. He expected only to keep it busy until he could get the support of his companions. That was until he noticed Bo fly helplessly across the chamber.

Distracted by the frightening scene, Hectus had given Da'hij the opening he needed. The one-armed monster swung his mighty club, expecting to catch the young warrior off guard. Hectus, however, was prepared for the attack. He braced himself to absorb the blow with his shield. He could feel it break under the the force of the thundering impact.

Hectus countered by hacking at the monster's feet and Da'hij howled in anguish as he collapsed.

Hectus called out for Grecos.

"I need some fire!"

Grecos appeared, torch in hand trying to keep his distance.

"Chop it up some more, Hectus! It's still swinging! It's still moving!"

"Damn it, Grecos!" Hectus shouted, frustrated at his comrade's lack of courage. He cut the clawing troll to smaller pieces.

"Is that better?" he asked.

Grecos reached down to burn the troll's feet.

Hectus noticed the ominous pair of eyes standing behind him.

"Look out!"

Blood began to build in Grecos's mouth. His body shuddered in shock. When he looked down to examine the source, he discovered the blade of a large knife piercing through his chest.

Chapter XXVI

Blind

"Foolish humans," Na'balit hissed, "trying to steal my little bear!"

She lifted Grecos by the hilt of her knife still sticking through his chest. He held onto the blade, hysterically trying to stop it from savagely tearing his body in two.

From Na'balit's mouth came a stream of sinister slurs.

Hectus could feel his limbs suddenly becoming stuck in place. All around him, as if out of nowhere, appeared white, sticky fibers of entangling, translucent silk. He strained to move his arms and legs, unable to reach out even the slightest inch.

Na'balit swung her knife to her side, tossing Grecos straight into a wall. Blood streaked against the rock as his lifeless body slid to the floor.

Na'balit began another chant, this time waving her hand in small circles. An unnatural breeze swept through cavern, growing into powerful gusts of wind. The sudden storm extinguished the torches, and without the light of their flames, the chamber was cast into utter darkness.

*

"Ruse! Do you hear that?" Nephia asked. "I think they're here to rescue us!"

"In fact, we are here to rescue you!" replied a familiar voice.

"Bo?" Nephia cried, trying to make out the figure in the dancing firelight. "Is that you?"

Bo pulled his short sword from his side and cut Ruse free.

Ruse stared in disbelief. "Number One? What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Didn't I just say I was here to rescue you?" he answered with a smile. "Do yourself a favor and find a torch!"

Ruse grabbed their weapons and looked for anything that could be used to fuel a flame. He tore a piece of his green shirt and wrapped it around the blade of his sword. He dropped it in Na'balit's fire, expecting it to light. He watched in amazement as fire in the chamber suddenly began to glow a bright, ominous green.

"Get me down!" Nephia cried.

Bo looked up at Nephia who was tied to the stalactite stretching from the cavern's ceiling. He found a nearby chest and dragged it below her. Then, using it as a stool, he cut her free with one hand and caught her with the other.

Bo smiled, "You know, now is really not the best time to be hanging around!"

"Very funny," she said, feigning laughter.

Ruse handed Nephia her sword and then pointed to the changing firelight. "I think there's something strange going on..."

Bo put his torch to the strangely colored flames. He, too, realized something was wrong.

"Um," he began to ask, "why is the fire green?"

The other two shook their heads and shrugged.

A voice called from within the heart of the fire.

"Na'balit!"

In the emerald flames Nephia recognized the image of the man she had spent the last year loathing. She cursed out Canidae's name.

"Na'balit...?! You're not Na'balit!" the voice returned.

Nephia swung furiously at the fire with her blade, lashing out at the flaming figure in vain, "You monster! You murdered my parents! I'm going to kill you!"

Bo and Ruse were startled by her manic behavior. Bo grabbed her by the shoulder to keep her from diving into the fire.

"You're wasting your time! It's just a projection!"

"That hair! Those eyes!" gasped the burning image. "I know you! You are Cervusian's daughter! You are Princess Nephia!"

Her companions gave each other a silent look of surprise, as if to seek confirmation of what they had just heard.

Bo reacted first. He knew there was no time to talk. He kicked dirt into the flames, trying to put them out. Then he began pushing the others to come with him.

"Come on! Let's get out of here!" he shouted.

Nephia spit into the dwindling fire, kicking and screaming as the other two dragged her away. They darted down the passageway to join the others locked in deadly combat.

*

"I've waited a long time for this, Leuco!" Na'balit hissed. "Your people may have forgotten your crimes, but I haven't! Your father promised a fine price for your death. It's a shame he won't be around to pay. But you will—with your life! I'm going to enjoy tearing the flesh from your bones!"

Leuco scanned the darkness, hopelessly trying to find her pair of glowing yellow rings. He had never faced a troll in complete darkness, let alone a troll witch. Those were two things he had wisely tried to avoid.

He set the Golden Liberator behind his back and drew from his sides his pair of hand axes. He turned back and forth, lost in the black void, anxiously waiting for an opportunity to attack.

Maria instinctively began to blindly shoot arrows. She couldn't see her target, but she knew it was big and there was a good chance she could still wound it. After letting her second arrow fly, she heard someone cry out from the other side of the cave.

"Hey! Watch where you're shooting! It's us!"

Suddenly there was flicker of light. Then another appeared. The two grew bigger and bigger as the torchlight bounced off the walls, illuminating the chamber just enough for Na'balit's dark silhouette to appear.

Leuco immediately tossed his pair of hand axes, one after another.

The first one caught the troll witch by surprise and caught her in the arm. The second, however, Na'balit easily batted away with her knife.

The room became brighter with every passing second and more of the troll witch became visible in the dark. Maria drew an arrow, took aim and let it fly.

Na'balit again deflected the missile with the broad side of her bloody knife.

Na'balit knew from past encounters that Leuco alone was a dangerous foe. The addition of an archer and three other warriors would only make things worse. In the dark, she was clearly the hunter. But now, outnumbered and exposed in the light of torches, she had once again become their prey.

"You think you've won?" Na'balit cried. She shook her head. "You have already lost! You humans will always lose!"

She stared into their glimmering eyes, threatening them with her mantric declaration.

"You think you are better than us! You think us monsters and savages, but it is your kind that wages war upon its own! We have watched your kind for generations. Your race is destined to destroy itself, again, and again, and again! Your heroes today will so quickly become the villains of tomorrow—always consumed by a lust for power and gold! Your castles will crumble, your kings will fall, and soon your lines will end—all at your very own hands! The time of reckoning is near, and when that day finally comes, when your people are on the brink of ruin, we will return once more to conquer these lands, just as prophecy proclaims!"

With that, Na'balit wrapped herself in a blinding veil of flickering shadows and echoing shrieks.

Leuco and his companions raised their hands in defense and turned to escape. As they fled outside, the fluttering sound of flapping wings tore past them. They watched as a swarm of bats swept across the amethyst sky, steering away from the burning radiance of the setting sun.

Chapter XXVII

Breakout

"Riders! Up ahead!" Hectus called from atop his storming horse. "Looks like four of them!"

Ruse was riding close beside him.

"Are they ours?" he asked.

Leuco recognized their black-and-white armor. He pulled his golden axe from behind his back.

"Those are Canidae's men."

"They're after us?" Nephia scoffed.

"Keep riding towards the castle!" Leuco ordered as he turned his horse to intercept them. "I'm going to buy you some time!"

"Get the prince and princess to the castle safely," Maria added, as she raced after him.

Bo offered a nod of approval.

"What are you doing, Number One?!" Nephia exclaimed, her arms wrapped around Bo's waist. "Aren't we going to help?"

Bo wanted to, but he couldn't let his mentor down. He was responsible for Nephia's safety, and he was determined to keep her free from harm.

"We need to get you back to the castle," he replied. "Then, Hectus and I will return to help—"

"No way! Turn around, Bo!" Nephia argued, as she drew her sword.

"You heard what they said," Bo began. "We need to get you back to—"

"Just do it!" she shouted, reaching over to pull Bo's short sword from his side.

"Whoa! What are you doing?" Bo exclaimed.

Nephia now had two blades, one in each hand.

"Watch where you point those things!"

Hectus looked on from behind, confused by Bo and Nephia's sudden departure.

"Now what are they doing?" Hectus asked.

Ruse spoke under his breath.

"What we should be doing."

*

Leuco parried the first attack and locked his axe with the dark rider's sword. Then, using the strength of both arms, he jerked his weapon, pulling the warrior off his horse.

Behind him, another rider had his sword raised, ready to hack away at Leuco's exposed back.

Maria had her bow already drawn in anticipation of such an attack. She let her arrow streak through the air and directly into the rider's back. He shuddered in surprise, just long enough for Leuco to swing his mighty axe deep into his gut.

Bo arrived next, charging head-on into the quickly advancing enemy.

Bo had no sword, and no time to reach for his spear. He raised his fractured shield in defense, but didn't expect it to do much good against an oncoming attack.

"Get me closer!" Nephia called from the back of his horse.

Bo wasn't sure what she had planned; getting any closer meant he would take a full on assault before she could even raise her pair of swords. He decided to try something unexpected.

"Hold on!" he warned.

He pulled his horse up short, turning its rear to face the attack.

Nephia lunged from the reversed steed and drove her two swords savagely into the approaching rider's chest. The two fell crashing to the ground.

For a moment, Bo couldn't see what was happening behind him. He just hoped Nephia knew what she was doing. When he turned his horse back around, he noticed her rolling on top of the motionless enemy soldier.

"Nephia! Are you alright?" he asked.

Nephia smiled and shouted, "Did you see that?!"

She was rabid with excitement. She looked down at the fallen horseman, and kicked him in his side. In between chortles of giddy laughter, she asked, "Did you see that? Did you?! You creep!"

Hectus and Ruse arrived in time to see the third and final rider turn and flee. Leuco rode up beside them with an expression of exhaustion.

"I thought I told you to get to the castle?"

"We weren't going to let you face the riders on your own," Ruse replied. "You risked your life to save us. It was only fitting that we do the same."

Leuco was impressed. The boy was just as stubborn as his father—and equally as brave.

"We all stick together," Bo added, "or we all fall apart."

Leuco blinked as he tilted his head.

"Did I teach you that?" he asked, taking the time to consider his pupil's words.

Bo shook his head and smiled. "I came up with it when I was turning the horse around. Pretty good, huh?"

Leuco nodded, appearing quite impressed. "That's very clever."

"Really?" Bo asked, his voice swelling with pride.

Leuco smiled as he patted his young pupil on the back.

"Let's get the prince home to his castle," he replied, leading the riders back towards the keep. "The people of Keeptown could use the good news."

Bo felt Nephia's arms wrap around his waist.

"Those were some nice moves, Number One."

He couldn't see her face, but the gentle song in her smile turned his face warm.

"Thanks," he replied. "You're not so bad yourself!"

*

Canidae arrived late in the evening, under the cover of darkness. He and his horse were adorned in great white drapery, bearing the prominent ankh of Xenos. Behind him was a train of three mysteriously covered wagons escorted by Faiden and his elite group of armored Immortal Guards. They were greeted with celebration as their seemingly glowing horses rode into camp.

The many loyal converts in Canidae's ranks were grateful for the opportunity to serve. They were anxious to punish what they had come to accept as their common enemy and they rallied together with a fervid rage to punish the non-believers—those they were convinced to be responsible for all their suffering.

The people of Valinon had just gone through a torturous series of catastrophes, beginning with the death of their king, as well as his dreams of peace and prosperity. Immediately after the king's death, there came mighty floods that ruined the farms and created shortages of food. Things became even worse when the next year's crops were destroyed by disease. The poor quickly began to starve.

As if things couldn't get any worse, it was then revealed that their grief-stricken queen had taken her own life, as well as her daughter's.

The people's spirits were broken.

But, like the rainbow after a storm, Canidae was there to offer hope. He gave their wretched lives new meaning. He spoke to them with words of compassion and salvation. He promised them prosperity after death and purpose in life. When he offered them a righteous crusade to restore their kingdom to its former glory, the pitiful and miserable masses flocked to him. They loved their leader, and now, at his appearance in Keeptown, they wildly cheered.

Canidae smiled all the while, waving back to his followers merrily.

Reeze greeted the Patriarch formally and, after they dismounted, led him and Faiden into the royal tent. Once inside, Canidae's face immediately changed.

"Explain to me, Reeze, how a mere boy can elude our superior forces?" he asked, well aware of the evening's events.

"He had an escort, my lord. Skilled warriors—the very same warriors that no less rescued him from the trolls," Reeze reminded him, trying to deflect the blame. "They were supposed to kill him."

Faiden shook his head, arms crossed against his chest. "And why didn't you simply send more troops?" he asked.

Faiden was clearly frustrated with the rogue Brigandine's lack of initiative. He studied him with glaring eyes. Now that Leuco was dead, he wondered: had Reeze lost his nerve? Had the overpaid turncoat's services finally outlived their usefulness?

To Faiden, Reeze was nothing more than a treacherous mercenary recklessly bent on revenge. He was also a non-believer, and that made him dangerous.

With the fall of Keeptown, Canidae would need a leader to keep the people of Veredon under control. Faiden had long expected to be appointed ruler of the alpine territory. He had served the Patriarch loyally, and was easily his most distinguished disciple. He would be the first to reap the rewards of victory. Reeze, however, was already a figure of authority in Veredon, and there was still a chance—a small chance—that Canidae would appoint him instead.

"They had already reached the castle walls," Reeze argued, sensing Faiden's resentment. "My men would have been within range of the keep's archers. It would have been certain death!"

"Certain death?" Canidae laughed and turned to Faiden. "That's such an ancient notion, isn't it?" He spoke now to Reeze. "You and your men think too much of your lives. True believers would not hesitate to follow Xenos's will, as I will happily demonstrate to you soon enough."

"I am no prophet, my lord," Reeze returned. "I am but a humble soldier. I cannot ask one under my command to recklessly end his life for my beliefs! Perhaps if you would have arrived sooner..."

"I was conducting valuable business that is none of your concern!" Canidae snapped.

He stopped himself and let out a deep sigh as he ran his palm against his temple.

"Your failure disappoints me, Reeze. But this is only a modest setback. The boy will simply have to share his father's fate. Tell me, are the war machines set?"

"Yes, my lord," Reeze cautiously replied.

Canidae clapped his hands in anticipation.

"Excellent! Let's go say hello!"

Chapter XXVIII

Firelight

Ursidor leaned against the stone wall of the parapet, reflecting under the blending, mutable hues of cobalt and crimson in the morning sky. He stood and stared, as the enemy began to raze the sprawling structures beyond his castle's walls.

In the distance, he could see the mill which his people had worked so long and so hard to build. Canidae's army had already reduced it to cinders.

Keeptown was burning.

Empedo and Parnon stood beside him, looking over the giant war machines being transported below. They all watched as the enemy camp made their final preparations.

"Their catapults are set and aimed at the main gate," Empedo explained, "so we have already begun reinforcing it with timber."

Parnon knew the supports wouldn't hold. He pointed out below to the soldiers and volunteers bracing the gate with wooden beams. "But if we don't stop their siege weapons, they'll tear our walls down in a matter of hours."

"What do you have in mind, Parnon?" Ursidor asked, admiring the frightening beauty of the sparkling stream of torchlight in the distance.

Parnon replied without hesitation, "We launch a direct assault on their artillery."

"That's ridiculous!" Empedo scoffed. "They have three! Three catapults! We can't launch simultaneous offensives on each one! It's suicide! Even if we wanted to, we don't have the numbers for such an assault!"

"That's why we surprise one catapult and target the second with our ballista," Parnon replied.

"What about our catapult?" Ursidor asked. "Is it within range?"

"If they can hit us, we can hit them."

"Did you see the size of their weapons? They're enormous!" Empedo argued, pointing out to the giant structures.

"Then they're bigger targets," Parnon added.

Empedo sighed in frustration. "No, Parnon! What I'm trying to tell you is that they have more power. That means far greater range! We won't be able to hit them with our catapult!"

Ursidor turned his head to get their attention. "So far, you've only explained how to eliminate two of their catapults. What about the third?"

Parnon ran his hand against his scalp. It was an old habit Ursidor recognized immediately. Parnon was having doubts.

"Well, we can lead a second assault, but without the element of surprise..."

Empedo immediately began shaking his head.

"Or we can pray to the gods for a miracle."

Empedo asked, "That's it?! That's all you have?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Parnon challenged.

The three stood silent for a moment.

Ursidor felt the cold stone underneath his palms and fingers. He realized that after his death, these walls he had built would be the only symbol of any decency left from his bitter existence. His victories, his achievements, his dreams—all were quickly beginning to fade, and soon, all of them would be forgotten. His only true legacy, he knew, would be Ruse.

Canidae may have taken his good name, but he would be damned if the villain stole his son's throne. This was his chance to make things right. This castle, this kingdom would be the only means left to earn his people's respect—his son's respect, and hopefully, their forgiveness.

He turned to face his officers.

"We go with Parnon's plan, but there will be no second suicide mission. We'll need every one of our men to defend against their siege towers. We will wait for them to breach our walls and then fight to the last man and to the last breath. Canidae will have to take my life before he takes my castle!"

He put his hand on Parnon's shoulder.

"Ready your assault team, Parnon," he ordered. "Whatever it takes, do it."

*

Having retold the account of her daring escape for what seemed to be the hundredth time, Nephia huddled herself outside the busy barracks close to a roaring campfire. While her friends were preparing for the imminent siege, she tried to make the most of her well-deserved rest.

The young princess sat alone draped in a green blanket, watching the golden flames flutter against the wind. She stared, mesmerized by their delicate dance. She couldn't help but picture Canidae's sinister grin within the flickering fire. She wanted nothing more than to see him dead.

"I see you have made a new home for yourself."

Nephia turned to see Maria sit beside her. The princess stared for a moment, wondering how best to react.

The two had gone their separate ways months before, and their parting was anything but pleasant. However, Nephia knew, when she needed help most, Maria was there for her. She was there in Na'balit's cave to rescue her, and she was there when she fled from her home into what she once believed were haunted woods. She wanted to ask Maria about the bear cub they had rescued. She wanted to tell her all about the misadventures on her journey to Veredon. She wanted to tell her how she was able to survive on her own, stealing and living as a stray. She wondered how Maria would respond. She imagined the hunter would not be so impressed.

Nephia felt ashamed. She turned her attention back to the fire.

"Tell me, Princess. What are you doing here in Veredon?" Maria asked.

Nephia pretended to be more interested in the fire. "What does it look like I'm doing?" she said. "I'm here to avenge my parents!"

Maria nodded solemnly. She could hear the familiar rage in her voice.

"And your hair? I see you finally took my advice and cut it. Maybe a bit too short, but..."

Nephia brushed her bangs from her face.

"When I first suggested it, you were so afraid of losing your beautiful locks," Maria smiled. "I thought you were going to cry—"

"Well, we do what we must," Nephia interrupted sharply. "What about you? What are you doing here?"

Maria could tell the girl was still upset. Even though they rode back together from the Bordering Mountains, the two hadn't exchanged a single word. Maria thought it best to try to put some peace between them.

"I've come to help," she replied.

"'Help'?" Nephia rose to her feet. "I don't need your help! You're not my guardian, Maria! I've been doing just fine on my own!"

With that, she tossed her blanket aside and stormed away, ready to join the other Regulars already preparing for the coming battle.

Maria stood silently, watching Nephia leave. She was proud of the young princess for making it on her own, but it was clear that her wounded heart had not yet healed. Maria couldn't help but feel responsible.

*

Inside the darkly lit barracks, sitting on her cot, Nephia was surprised to find the king approach to greet her.

"So it is true! The daughter of Cervusian lives!"

Nephia was silent. She was still upset from her encounter with Maria and wanted to be left alone. She looked at Ursidor as he spoke, but she had no pleasant words to share. This was not the great, gentle giant she remembered as a child. The brightness of his face had long disappeared. She could tell some kind words would have done him good. Instead, out of respect, she merely listened.

"My, how you have grown! I remember when you were just a baby."

Ursidor sat down beside her, marveling at how much the poor girl had changed. Her bight innocence was lost. He raised his hand to caress her cheek and offer the young princess some comfort, but Nephia turned her face slightly to show her unease.

"You still have your mother's hair. Her eyes. And you have your father's strength. He was a very brave man and a very dear friend."

Nephia said nothing.

"Tell me, Princess. Why have you joined the volunteers?" he asked, recognizing her discomfort. "I would have offered you my home, as well as my protection."

Nephia's expression turned cold, as was her response.

"Everything's been taken from me. I plan on taking it back."

Ursidor nodded.

"It seems we share a common desire. I, too, long to see Canidae's schemes put to rest. He has long been a thorn in my side. Now he threatens my people, and my family. Which now includes you. As a Guardian of Valinon, I pledged to serve your father and your mother. I know what people say about my past, but I promise to help you, Princess, in any way I can."

"And you have! But it's just..." Her voice broke as her eyes filled with tears. "Everything is so different! Everything is so broken! I just want to go home! I just want things to be the way I remember, when the days were happier and everyone was gentle and kind! When things were simple and peaceful!"

"Everything changes, child. Of this, I'm sure you understand. We can never go back to how things used to be. Time has a scheme for all of us. But your home is still your kingdom. Your father's throne is still rightfully yours. Just as I fight to protect my son's, I promise I will fight to protect yours. You are not alone, Princess. I know how you feel. Whatever you need, just simply ask."

The two sat there silently. Finally, Ursidor stood. "Your father would ask me to keep you in the storerooms for your protection, but I have sworn to uphold your sovereignty, and thus, I must respect your wishes. I only ask that you be careful. I will have Parnon set your unit under Leuco's command. He will protect you. If you need anything more, Princess, you know where to find me."

Nephia rose to her feet, and wiped her tears. Then, to Ursidor's surprise, she gave him a hug. Nephia stopped crying, and for a moment, a brief moment, the troubled king was reminded of happier times long-forgotten.

*

Everyone in Keeptown had already fled to the castle for protection. The women and children hid in the storerooms below, while many of their sons and fathers joined the volunteers above to aid with last-minute preparations.

Leuco stopped by the underground shelter to check on Cimmie. She found him first, standing in the doorway, fully dressed for battle, and yet appearing hopelessly lost.

His presence attracted the attention of the huddled children. They stared in awe of his winged helm and gleaming suit of armor.

When he finally approached, Cimmie greeted him with a heavy heart.

"Have you come again to say good-bye?"

Leuco took her by the hand, "That's never been my intention, Cimmie. Usually, I just plan on stealing a kiss." He could see a tiny smile blooming from her lips.

Suddenly, there was a loud boom as the chamber began to shake and stir with a roaring rumble.

The women gasped in fear, holding tightly to their crying children. Cimmie ran her palm against her brow in frustration.

"When is it going to end, Leuco?" she asked, letting out a sigh.

He looked up, gauging the proximity of the blasts. "Unfortunately, it's only just begun," he replied. "They must be hitting the central gate..."

The room again began to shake.

BOOM!

"No, Leu! I mean this!" She said, pointing out to the small empty space between them. "I want you to stay, Leuco. I've always wanted you to stay..."

Leuco wondered how they had survived for so long without one other—without the one person in the world they cared for most. Perhaps, he thought, that's exactly why he had made it through for so long—to return to her after every adventure; to return to her warmth and to hold her in his arms. Much like the evening moth enchanted with the burning candle, he too was drawn to the radiance of her affection, her acceptance, and her grace.

But now there was an unforgiving fear in her eyes. She realized that this moment could very well be their last. Cimmie hated torturing herself with such thoughts, but she did it time and time again. It was all she could think about. She always believed that they would end up together. Now, as the world quaked and burned all around her, she couldn't help but surrender to her doubts.

BOOM!

Leuco held her in his arms. He wanted to be by her side to comfort her. Now, more than ever, he would have preferred to stay with her here in the storeroom, holding her hand, protecting her from the terrors of the world outside its trembling walls. But he knew that was impossible. He knew that, sooner or later, he would once again feel the great burden fall upon him.

How could he so selfish? How could he dare stay when her life, his life, and all of those around them, depended on him throwing himself into battle, again and again?

Cimmie was quiet. She wanted to say something—something that explained the yearning, the pain, and the understanding.

"Leuco..." she said, holding him tightly, tears streaming from her eyes.

She didn't need to say the words.

Leuco ran his fingers through her auburn hair. Then, he gently pressed his lips against hers.

BOOM!

The walls violently shook, and in the midst of the crashing destruction, the two stood locked in the silence of a tragic kiss.

"Please don't say good-bye. I hate it when you say good-bye," she pleaded, wiping away her tears.

Dirt and dust began to fall from the ceiling. The two lowered their heads, and gently pressed them together to shield their eyes from the debris.

"I have to go," Leuco whispered.

Having discovered the words he had been looking for, he let go of her hands and gave her one final kiss. With his lips pressed gently against the top of her forehead he softly whispered to her, "I'm sorry."

Cimmie kept her eyes closed the whole time, trying to keep the tears from cascading down her cheeks.

When she finally opened them, Leuco the Hawk was gone.

BOOK THREE

THRONES

Chapter XXIX

Deluge

Ruse and Empedo stood at both sides of the heavy catapult, each wielding a long wrench attached to the weapon's massive engine.

The pair strained to wind down the catapult's arm against the stiff tension of the coiled, animal fiber skein. Their last effort was as far as their wrenches would go.

"Ready!" Empedo called out to Parnon who stood watching from high atop his tower.

Ruse held the rope attached to the slip hook. "I hope this works," he muttered under his breath.

Empedo overheard his words.

"You and everyone else, young prince!"

Parnon raised his arm to signal them to wait for his command. He looked down from his position to check on the other warriors standing by below. There, Leuco and his riders were waiting at the gate ready to launch their assault. All in his party were carrying a long lance tightly wrapped in cloth.

Nephia and Bo were mounted on horseback beside Chiro who was feeling quite anxious about riding out beyond the safety of the castle walls and into the enemy's camp.

"This doesn't seem like such a good idea. Why do you suppose Leuco picked us for this?" Chiro asked. "Why not send the more seasoned veterans out to attack?"

"It's probably because we're the only ones foolish enough to do it!" Nephia joked.

"Or because we're expendable..." Chiro added.

"Be brave, Chiro," Bo replied. "You know that's not true! Leuco trusts us. That's why he picked us. He knows we're the best for the job!"

Bo's words did little to comfort him.

"Don't worry! The princess and I will look after you."

Chiro looked up to the pair of moons floating low in the night sky. He wasn't very religious, but he thought it prudent to offer himself a quick prayer to the gods before riding to his expectant doom.

From above, the horsemen heard their old Headmaster shout.

"Fire!"

On Parnon's command, Ruse tugged at his rope to disengage the hook. Just as he had practiced many times before, the machine's arm was released, swinging upward in a great arc that hurled the payload high over the wall and onto the sloping battlefield.

The enemy soldiers looked on in confusion. They knew the defenders' catapult couldn't reach their camp. In fact, they weren't expecting them to fire at all. They were even more surprised, however, to find that the keep's defenders were launching huge sacks of hay instead of rock and stone.

Faiden watched, unsure of what to make of the desperate attack. As a precaution, he called for his archers to ready their missiles.

Back at the keep, Parnon commanded his guards to open the gate.

Leuco's small band of lancers stormed out the keep's massive doors, down the sloping hill, and raced directly for the giant catapult.

The titanic siege weapon continued its assault, all the while hurling enormous boulders well above their heads. The bombarded castle walls began to crack and bend under their devastating force.

Chiro steered his horse close beside Bo's.

"Do you hear that?!" he asked timorously.

"Hear what?!"

Between the loud exploding booms and the beating of their armored horses' hooves, Bo could hear what faintly sounded like a distant swarm of chirping birds.

To Leuco, the repeating twangs and whistles were all too familiar. He looked up to the sky. The clouds, as well as the moons and all the stars, had completely disappeared.

"Shields up!" he called out to those riding behind him.

From above their heads came a deluge of pouring arrows that whistled into their ranks. Nephia immediately raised her arm to defend herself. Her smaller frame granted her greater protection beneath her shield. Unfortunately, many of her companions were not as lucky.

Bo watched in horror as another lancer ahead became pierced with several arrows. The rider reacted to every puncturing wound until slowly he began to slide off his saddle. Bo lifted his shield, hoping to spare himself the same fate. Instead of collecting the missiles in his arm, he could see the arrows bounce away in all directions, as if ricocheting off an invisible wall. Bo realized the armor Leuco had given him had saved his life.

*

From atop his tower, Parnon tried to make out the distance between Leuco's lancers and the bundles of hay scattered across the battlefield. He turned to his archers who stood beside him, waiting patiently with their long bows already drawn and set to fire.

On Parnon's command, the archers let their flaming arrows fly. They hit their targets, igniting the bundles of hay. They fired their missiles until there were four giant bonfires burning between Leuco's riders and the enemy's artillery.

The riders approached the blazing stacks, and as they passed, they dipped their lances into the fire. With their weapons lit, they continued on with great speed into the enemy camp. They broke through the first line of soldiers and thrust their lances into the giant catapult as soon as they could. One by one they struck the towering weapon and then drew their blades to cover their companions. They rode circles around the massive catapult, swinging wildly at whomever approached to attack.

Canidae's camp was in utter chaos. His soldiers desperately tried to put the fire out with buckets of dirt and water, but every attempt was met with a sharp blade of steel.

With the element of surprise now gone, Leuco's lancers were left deep behind enemy lines. Beyond the smoke of the burning wood, he could make out a familiar warrior approaching: Faiden, the young warrior who had poisoned him and left him for dead. Behind him, were his mounted Immortal Guards who had finally arrived to rout Leuco's attack.

*

Back at the keep, the Brigandines cheered as they watched the enemy's massive weapon go up in flames.

The first part of Parnon's strategy had been a success.

The nearby guardsmen had already loaded the ammunition and wound the reel of the giant pair of crossbows that stood beside the Headmaster, ready to launch.

"Fire the ballista!"

On Parnon's command, they launched the great missiles into the air. The first shots slammed into a unit of enemy archers standing before their target. The force of the impact dug deep into the earth and caused a great commotion as Canidae's forces fled to seek sanctuary from the decimating shower of giant spears.

Parnon continued his assault, adjusting the trajectory of his weapons after every launch. His attacks were hitting closer and closer to the enemy's second catapult.

But the enemy engine began to move in reverse, making targeting for Parnon's team much more difficult. The change in location also included a change in trajectory.

Canidaes's forces were preparing to retaliate.

*

Leuco's lancers quickly became overwhelmed by the enemy cavalry, and when he called for a retreat young Chiro felt a wave of relief come over him. He didn't want to stay any longer than was truly necessary.

Chiro was the first to follow the order, riding low with shield raised to escape the flying arrows.

Nephia, however, was locked in combat with one of Faiden's Immortal Guards.

Their swords crossed again and again, and even though Nephia could feel her opponent gain the upper hand, she refused to yield. From behind, she could hear the gallop of a pack of enemy horsemen drawing near.

Suddenly, her steed let out a frightful cry. It had already been struck with many arrows, but now the piercing lance driven through it had left the horse in a dreadful shock. It violently shook and fell to the ground, crushing Nephia underneath.

Bo had already started to flee when he heard her scream out. He looked back and saw Nephia pinned by her horse, surrounded by armored soldiers who had already begun dismounting their own. Bo quickly turned his horse to help.

The rider chasing him was caught completely by surprise. He didn't expect him to foolishly return to their camp.

Bo drove his spear through his chest; then, using the momentum and stability of the impaled rider, he swung himself off his horse and landed directly by Nephia's side.

Bo strained every muscle in his body to desperately lift her fallen horse. Though he raised it mere inches, it was just enough for the young princess to pull herself free.

Bo pulled Nephia closely beside him as he made for the fallen warrior's horse. She was clearly struggling to move.

"Get on!" Bo directed, recovering his spear from the enemy's chest. He was already preparing to meet the sprinting attack of Canidae's foot soldiers.

Nephia pulled herself atop the horse and waited for Bo, who was busy knocking another soldier off his feet. He hurdled atop the horse from behind, wrapped his arms around the princess, and took the reigns from her hands.

"Hold on," he suggested, as he turned the horse to flee.

The Faiden's riders were now fast approching, ready to attack. Nephia lowered her head, and wrapped her arms tightly around the horse's neck. Bo kicked the animal as hard as he could, and the two sped away just in time to escape the the slashing of their enemies' swords.

*

Back at the camp, Reeze had finally arrived at the site of the burning catapult.

From atop his horse, he watched as Faiden's men chased the two younger warriors fleeing from the destruction. In the distance, he saw another of Ursidor's defenders turn back to aid them.

The former Brigandine recognized the steel segmented armor, the winged helm, and his signature pair of hand axes.

"Impossible!" he hissed. "They told me he was dead!"

He kicked his horse, racing to confront his sworn enemy. He found him beside his younger companions, completely surrounded by Faiden's cavalry.

"Stop!" Reeze commanded from behind, rushing frantically to the front of the ranks.

"No one touches him!"

He drew his sword, thrusting its point in Leuco's direction.

"This one is mine!"

Chapter XXX

Rematch

Reeze looked the old warrior over in disgust.

"They told me you had been killed, old man."

Leuco looked across and studied the bold warrior. He was certainly no holy fighter. In fact, he looked vaguely familiar.

"I got better," Leuco shrugged.

"So have I," Reeze proclaimed. "When last we met, I was but a young boy. I've learned much since then, and now your time to pay has come!"

Leuco merely blinked.

"Do I know you?"

Reeze's eyes narrowed in frustration.

"You killed my father!" Reeze shouted.

"I have killed many fathers in my life," Leuco spoke sincerely, "but I am nonetheless sorry for your loss."

"You're sorry?! You murdered my father and ruined my family, you self-righteous pig! Instead of paying for your crime, the people treat you as a blessed hero! I've been waiting my whole life for the chance to make you suffer! Justice has been far too long delayed, but tonight it will finally be served with pitchers of your blood!"

"I'm sorry," Leuco shrugged once more, with his weapons still drawn, "but I don't understand. Exactly who are you?"

Faiden let out a sigh, "Reeze, this is a waste of time! He doesn't even know you!"

Reeze's eyes flared.

"No! He is mine!" He turned back to Leuco. "My father was a loyal Brigandine. Your comrade! You turned against him and murdered him! You ruined my family! You ruined my life!"

"A Brigandine? I've only slain a single Brigandine—a wicked man who preyed upon the weak. He abused the people, stole from them and committed unspeakable crimes against young women."

"That is not true! My father was a hero! You are a liar!"

"Your father was a snake, and neither him, nor I, are responsible for your current state. I may have killed him, but believe me, I have paid for my crimes. I have lived in hiding for many years, separate and alone from the land I have sworn to protect. Trust me, stranger. I have been suffering for years."

"You speak in lies! You know nothing of suffering! Face me, and we shall see who speaks the truth!"

"I will accept your challenge, if that is truly what you wish," Leuco replied, "but first, you must let my men return to the castle."

"I have no care for your soldiers! Just you!" Reeze turned to his horsemen. "Let them go!"

Faiden wanted to argue the matter, but he knew it would be pointless. Reeze was clearly irrational. Any words of reason would surely fall upon deaf ears.

It had been Faiden's responsibility to kill Leuco. He thought he had left the old man for dead. Obviously, he was wrong. Faiden concluded the easiest way to finish Leuco was to let the two former Brigandines settle their differences. Even if Leuco were to defeat Reeze in single combat, which he secretly hoped, there would still be no chance for him to escape.

Bo understood the consequences as well.

"We can't just leave you here!" he argued.

"You have to defend the keep," Leuco began as he dismounted his horse. "You promised me, Bo, remember?"

Bo realized he didn't have a choice. Leuco was giving him and Nephia a chance to escape. He was sacrificing his life for their safety. Even if they stayed, he knew it would do little good against their greater numbers. Reluctantly, the two young warriors trotted outside the enemy's circle. They stopped a short distance away and from there, they had an excellent view of Leuco and Reeze's imminent duel.

Leuco twirled his hand axes in his hands, brazenly trying to intimidate his opponent. Reeze stood before him with both sword and shield, unafraid and unimpressed.

Leuco noticed the marker of Xenos on Reeze's breastplate.

"You claim I am a traitor against my comrades, but clearly you, a son of Veredon, bear the crest of our enemy across your chest."

"Our enemy?" he snapped. "You are my sworn enemy, villain!"

"Are you going to growl all night, mangy dog," Leuco taunted, "or are you going to bite?"

Reeze was already fuming, but now Leuco's insults had left him completely enraged. He let out a ferocious yell and lunged at his opponent, swinging his sword like a man possessed.

Leuco caught the blade with his left axe, and then countered with his right. The attack chopped deep into the middle of his opponent's forearm. Then, without hesitation, Leuco immediately swung his weapon back and struck him in the face.

There was no time for Reeze to respond. The blade had cut deep and bashed in both helmet and skull. Blood poured everywhere as the Brigandine's body twitched from the shock of the fatal blow.

Everyone stared in disbelief.

Before the body could hit the ground, Leuco vaulted upon his horse and bolted through the circle of open-mouthed soldiers still fixed on the sight of their fallen leader's grisly end.

"Go! Go! Go!" Leuco shouted to his pair of young soldiers. They, too, were frozen in shock at the horrible scene. Reeze was once their mentor and leader. He had helped train them. They had not expected the fight to end so quickly, nor as gruesomely.

"After them, you fools!" Faiden cried out.

The three raced desperately to reach the keep's gates. Faiden and his cavalry were quickly closing in on them, and when they reached the castle walls, arrows immediately rained upon them. They raised their shields to deflect the missiles, but the arrows kept coming, wave after wave.

Faiden turned his horse in retreat, his face fuming with frustration. Their heavy catapult was destroyed, Reeze was dead, and Leuco was once again free.

How could he possibly explain such failures to his master?

*

Leuco surveyed the surviving troops. To his regret, many riders did not return from the assault on Canidae's camp. Fortunately, Bo and his young friends were among them.

"You all fought well," he said, patting young Bo on the back. "I knew the three of you would be a good choice for the raid," he added, sounding quite pleased with himself and his worthy judgment.

"Because of the armor you gave me?" Bo asked, admiring his magical studded leather cuirass.

"Not quite, but I'm sure it helped."

"It was because of our fearless fighting, right?" Chiro asked, trying to hide the fact he was the first to flee.

"No," Leuco corrected, shaking his head as he dismounted his horse. He raised his shield cluttered with broken arrows and tossed it aside. "I picked you because you're the smallest targets!"

The young warriors were busy measuring one another with their eyes before exchanging sly grins.

Leuco turned to walk away, but then suddenly stopped.

"You were all very brave out there," he added, "but in the tempest of battle, that will not be enough. If you want to survive, you will need to look out for one another."

Leuco put his hand on Nephia's shoulder.

"When the world around you is falling apart, that's when you're going to need your friends. And that's when they're going to need you."

He turned to Bo.

"You wanted to be a hero, Bo. This is your chance."

*

"They're getting closer, Parnon!"

The earth stopped shaking long enough for Maria to gain a stable footing and call to the Headmaster's position atop his tower. She heard his frenzied reply travel over the whistling projectiles.

"We almost have them!"

BOOM!

The blast from the enemy catapult struck again, this time closer to the tower's base. The explosive force of the impact knocked Maria and the supporting Regulars to their feet.

"Keep firing!" Parnon ordered.

"You need to get down from there!" Maria cried, ducking low against the castle wall for protection. There came no response from above.

BOOM!

The next shot hit higher, exploding just below the parapet. Maria instinctively covered herself against the flying debris of shattering rock hurled in her direction.

"Crazy old man," she said to herself. She shouted up to him once more, "Parnon—" but just then another boulder hit the tower, this time a direct hit.

BOOM!

The top of the tower was shrouded in a cloud of crushed rock and dust that pattered against the stone like crashing hail.

Maria looked up and saw that the ballista had been completely destroyed. The artillery men were nowhere to be seen. She climbed down the staircase, and there, on the ground below, she saw Parnon's still and lifeless body lying in the dirt.

Maria knelt down beside him, closed her eyes, and offered a brief prayer for the old warrior. When she was done, she noticed Empedo standing beside her.

"So his plan was a success after all," he said almost as if speaking to himself.

"What are you talking about? The ballista is destroyed! They're going to keep pounding our walls until the entire keep and everyone in it is reduced to rubble!"

"I mean his other plan." Empedo smiled, holding out his palm. "The miracle."

Maria felt something wet fall upon her cheek.

She covered herself with her hood, and looked to the ground. There, at her feet, she saw pearly raindrops burst as they hit the dirt. Above her, the sky filled with the soft roar of rolling thunder.

Chapter XXXI

The Quiet Before the Storm

The heavy rain began to slow late in the evening. Canidae was now out of his tent, carefully examining his abandoned war machines.

Not only had his colossal catapult been razed and destroyed, but now the pouring rain had soaked the twisting fiber coils of the other two, stripping them of their resilience and rendering them utterly useless. For all his patience, all his careful planning, he had not considered even the slightest chance of a rain storm.

He ran the back of his hand against his forehead, wiping the rain from his face, thinking of what to do next.

"We can wait them out, my lord," Faiden offered. "They will starve and surely surrender. It's merely a matter of time..."

"Time is something we do not have!" Canidae snapped. He was still upset over Faiden's failures. Twice, he let Leuco escape, and already twice, Leuco had foiled his plans. Now Faiden was offering his advice? Canidae shook his head. His young student had much to learn.

"With every passing day, my power over these people wanes. They are merely here out of desperation and fear! If we give them time to think, they will eventually choose not to follow!"

Canidae stopped to contain himself. He looked over his shoulder, as if making sure no one had heard his outburst of frustration.

"If we lose them, Faiden, we lose everything," he spoke now closer beside his young protege. "That is a risk I cannot take. We need to strike now while both stores and moral are still high."

Canidae looked down into a puddle at his feet. In its sheen surface, he saw his reflected countenance replaced with the cold face of death. He kicked the liquid mirror into a string of ripples.

"Ready the towers and mining carts. We'll strike tomorrow at dawn and breach their walls by sunset."

"And what about the pit, my lord?" another soldier approached covered in filth, and appearing quite exhausted.

Canidae was caught by surprise.

"Is it complete?" he asked, adjusting his wet tunic.

"Yes, my lord."

"Good. Throw in the bodies." Canidae waved his hand as he made for his tent.

"Forgive me, my lord." The soldier spoke tentatively. "But... but is it not our Valinonian custom to honor our dead and bury the fallen in caskets?"

There was a long pause. Canidae looked to Faiden, suggesting that his point had just been proven.

Finally, Canidae responded.

"This is a new custom," he explained, trying to reason with the skeptical soldier. "If we seal their bodies in caskets, then we condemn them to Oblivion with the other nonbelievers. With their bodies trapped in boxes, how will their souls ever ascend to the eternal kingdom of Xenos?"

"Yes, my lord," the soldier replied. "Of course."

Canidae watched as the soldier left to fulfill his grisly duty.

"You see? Already they begin to question us! Tomorrow we will finish this. And this time, Faiden, there will be no mistakes!"

*

The rain continued all throughout the night as the young exhausted warriors tried to make the most of their well-deserved rest.

Ruse sat alone in the apse of the keep's chapel. There, beneath its stained glass window, the young prince plucked his pandir and played a final, mournful song for his dearly departed teacher. In the times when Ruse needed one most, Parnon was his mentor, his friend, and the father the prince never had. Now the old warrior was gone. He always had such high expectations for Ruse. Now, more than ever, the young prince was determined to live up to them.

Back in the barracks, most of the other soldiers were resting up for the battle to come, letting the gentle sound of the pattering rain lull them to a tender sleep. Nephia, however, laid wide awake, counting the now vacant beds of her fallen comrades.

She looked over to Bo who slept in the cot beside her.

"Bo!" she whispered as loudly as he she could.

Bo's eyes slowly, grudgingly opened.

"Are you asleep?"

Bo blinked. He had just finally reached the long-desired and peaceful state of sweet unconsciousness. Now, once again, he was awake and still very, very tired.

"Yes!" he barked sarcastically as he rolled over on his side.

Nephia spoke softly, not so much to wake the others, but more because she had trouble saying the words out loud.

"I just wanted to say... I mean, I'm sure I could have handled those creeps on my own earlier, but, thanks for... you know... coming back to help."

"Well, we're friends, right?" Bo asked, wiping his eyes. He was still too sleepy to think straight.

"Of course!" she replied.

"Well, that's just what friends do," Bo added with a yawn.

Nephia smiled. She felt as if she had freed herself of a great burden. She closed her eyes, and listened to the soothing sound of the falling rain.

"Bo," she whispered, "Do you ever think about death?"

Bo covered his ears. "It sounds rather pleasant right about now."

"Seriously, doesn't it scare you?" she asked.

"Me? Not so much," he shoulders made a little shrug.

"Why not?"

"When I was just a baby, my family was murdered by trolls. I'm not even supposed to be here. This is all a gift, and I'm just trying to make the most of it. Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering."

"Well, you shouldn't. It's bad luck."

Great, Bo thought. Now I can't sleep.

He looked over to Nephia and asked, "Why didn't you tell me you were a princess?"

Nephia quickly turned herself to face him. "I did! Don't you remember, the day we met?"

"Yes," Bo replied, "I remember. But I thought you were merely joking!"

"So, you didn't think it remotely possible that I could be a real princess?"

Bo wisely chose to ignore her question. Instead, he asked, "If you truly are a princess, then what are you doing here? After all, your type usually doesn't dress in armor and dive head first into battle."

"My type?" Nephia laughed. "Do you always assume you know everything about everyone you meet?"

"I didn't mean..." Bo stopped and smiled. The princess was as difficult as she was daring.

He thought it best to try a different approach.

"If we're friends," he asked, "then you should be able to tell me why you volunteered, right? So, tell me then, why are you here?"

Nephia looked away, staring at her blanket. She picked bits of dry grass from the wool as she spoke.

"Canidae killed my parents. I'm here to set things right. I'm here to find justice."

From living with Leuco, Bo had learned something of the different shades of justice.

"You mean revenge?" he asked, trying to see if she knew the difference.

"Maybe."

There was a long pause between them. Bo didn't know what to say. He figured it wasn't much different than his fierce animosity towards trolls. He too, wanted to see them pay for what they did to his family, and to the other poor victims just like him. Then he thought about Reeze. His thirst for revenge drove him to a bitter, worthless end.

Bo hoped Nephia wouldn't share his fate.

*

The two heroes finally did fall asleep, but for what only seemed to be the briefest of moments. They had spent most of the night talking, and now they found it nearly impossible to drag themselves out of bed.

The sun was still sleeping beneath the hills when the pair left the barracks. The sky was a softly lit indigo and the ground lay littered with puddles of mud from yesterday's rain.

The veteran Brigandines and young Regulars alike gathered silently before the roughly constructed pyre for the dead.

With burning torch in hand, Ursidor stood beside the wooden structure, looking over the body of his fallen general and loyal friend.

"Parnon was a great warrior," Ursidor began, speaking to the gathered soldiers. "I fought many battles by his side, and on more than a few occasions, it was his strength and knowledge that turned the tide. He has served us faithfully and valiantly, both on the battlefield, and on our council."

"Parnon was also a great teacher," he continued. "He taught me much, and if not for him, I certainly would not be where I stand today. I only hope that in my final days, I too can be granted an honorable, glorious death. On this fateful morning, with a long day of fighting ahead of us, let us remember his words of wisdom: As soldiers, we fight not to wage wars. We fight to end them."

Ursidor raised his torch high above his head. "I light this fire so that the noble spirits of good men, like Parnon and all our other fallen brothers, may leave our world and rejoin the spirit of the gods. There, may they accept with open arms our worthy heroes and bless us with the strength to continue their good work."

With those words, Ursidor lit the firewood beneath each one of the dead. Then he carefully dropped the torch into the base of the pyre.

"We owe these men our thanks, and we owe them our commitment to victory."

From behind their king, the soldiers could see the breaking of dawn paint the mountain cliffs with a dazzling display of rose and vermillion. As the flames from the pyre rose, they reflected the emotion building in Ursidor's face.

"Today, we stand awaiting the forces that lay beyond our walls. Their kingdom has crumbled, and now they come to steal that which we have built through our labor, sweat, and tears. We fought off the hordes of monsters that once claimed this land. We tilled the earth and built our homes. Now these zealots have come to conquer us, to take our homes and replace our gods. But we stand together, fighting for our family and friends. We fight for our brothers in arms, those next to you who are willing to lay down their lives to defend that which we have worked so hard to achieve." Ursidor raised his voice and pointed to the growing fire. "Those warriors like the valiant Parnon and the many others who have given their all to protect us! I ask you: Will you let their spirits grieve over our defeat? Will you have their deaths go in vain?"

Ursidor paused for a response. All were quiet.

"I ask you: Will you let your innocent families huddled in our storerooms fall victim to the dark blades of our enemies? Will you let them steal your homes, your gods, your very lives?"

The crowd began to jeer.

"You are all fearless warriors of Veredon! You each fight with the strength and skill equal to ten of Canidae's death-fearing fanatics!"

The soldiers cheered in approval, inspired by Ursidor's words.

"Now I ask you, are you going to let these rogues scale our walls?"

The crowd cried out unanimously, "No!"

"Are you going to let them break through our gates?!"

Again the gathered soldiers answered, this time with greater volume.

"Are you going to let them take this castle?!"

The thunderous response echoed throughout the bailey and out beyond the castle walls. Outside, the defiant roar filled the camping invaders with unease.

Ursidor looked on as the crowd wildly cheered. He signaled for the garrison commanders to gather their troops. He then approached Ruse who, as usual, stood aside with a silent, somber face. Ursidor put his hands on his shoulders.

Ruse was expecting him to offer more words of condolences for his mentor, something to comfort him in his time of loss. Instead his father surprised him by offering his sincerest apology.

"Ruse, I am sorry for any harm I may have done to you in the past. I am sorry for any lack of affection of which I may have deprived you. I may not have been there for you in the past, but believe me when I tell you, I am here for you now and nothing but the cold hands of death will take you from me."

Ruse was surprised. He wasn't expecting to hear such words.

"Soon, this kingdom will be yours. Perhaps sooner than I'd like, but I have seen it, my son, in a dream sent to me by the gods. I know that these are my final days."

Ruse wasn't sure how to respond. His father never spoke to him in such a way before. The intimacy and sincerity of his tone were foreign to him. He stood staring at the ground, unsure of what to say or do.

"Come," Ursidor said, bidding his son to follow him. "Today we fight side by side to defend what will soon and forever be rightfully yours."

Chapter XXXII

Under Siege

Canidae had taken his time to prepare for his assault. The result of his patience was a threatening parade of siege engines determined to demolish Ursidor's humble defenses.

The tall siege towers were constructed of the strongest wood taken from the finest trees of the Forest of Valinon. Each tower was three stories high and the front and top were covered with wet treated furs to make them resistant to fire. The fortified stories were connected with ladders and each platform along its height had railing and an elongated draw bridge that would lower down for the soldiers to leap onto the castle walls. At the base of each tower were a set of four giant wagon wheels and behind them, a pair of smaller wheels for stabilization up the sloped surface of the keep's steep foundations.

As the towers made their way slowly across the muddy battlefield, they began to spread out, clearly intending to surround Ursidor's keep. One was headed to the curved western wall. The other two were headed towards the south central wall. Behind them came a pair of wagons resembling moving houses. These wheeled structures were covered with wooden roofs and treated furs. One car had a giant battering ram and was headed to the eastern gate. The other was headed to the southeastern wall, pushed by a large group of miners.

Empedo watched carefully as the towers approached his markers on the field. With Parnon now gone, Ursidor appointed him as the new garrison commander. Because Empedo was responsible for the castle defenses, this meant he was also in charge of Bo's now very busy auxiliary group.

When the towers reached his planted markers, Empedo ordered the counter attack troops to light the prepared planks.

The command traveled from one soldier to another, down the tower, and out into the bailey. From there they echoed underground into the tunnels, far behind the castle walls, and deep below the battlefield.

The orders finally reached Bo and Chiro who had been waiting in a buried chamber with flickering torches in hand.

"Light the planks! Light the planks!" a voice called out.

"It's about time!" Chiro said, coughing from the smoke.

"Is it just me, or does it seem like all we ever do is burn stuff?" Bo asked, as he lit the hay underneath the wooden supports.

"So what?" Chiro replied as he quickly lit his side of the chamber. "I love burning stuff!"

Bo lit the last planks and then ran along the dark stretching tunnel. He couldn't help but feel relief that the tunnels he had been digging since the early days of training were finally being put to use. At the time, it seemed like they were just digging for the sake of exercise—or perhaps even punishment. Bo and Chrio never thought they'd actually have to crawl around in them. This, Bo realized, was why some tunnels were obviously bigger than others. Bo quickly realized, however, that skimping on their dimensions when Parnon wasn't looking wasn't such a great idea.

"Wonderful!" Bo shouted in consternation.

"What's wrong, Number One? Why'd you stop?" Chiro asked, as he caught up to him.

"You said they'd never notice..."

Chiro realized he was talking about the small width of the tunnel.

"I told you no one would bother to check!"

"Are you serious?!" Bo shouted. "We're flamin' stuck, Chrio! I can't fit through there! When these planks fall apart, we're going to be buried alive!"

"Easy, Number One!" Chiro warned. "You're going to bring the walls down!" He squeezed past him and crawled into the small tunnel ahead. He called back from the other side, "There! It's not so bad!"

Bo started digging. He already tried squeezing through. He just wasn't as small as his impish companion. "You're on your own, Chiro! You have to finish the job!"

"But what about you? We already lit the planks! The tunnels are going to collapse!"

Bo kept digging and shouted, "Just go light the others!"

Chiro began to argue, "But you can't—

"Go!" Bo shouted.

Chiro turned and ran. Now alone, He'd have to work even faster. Behind him, he heard the rumble of earth and then a great tumbling of dirt and rock. He knew it was the first chamber he had just squeezed through.

The ceiling had already collapsed.

*

Ursidor's army cheered as the enemy's tower sank through the ground. The archers at the top of the structure dove to clear themselves from the collapsing wreckage. Moments later, another siege tower was caught in a second sunken pit. The effect wasn't nearly as dramatic, but the engine's wheels buckled, leaving it stuck in its tracks. Ursidor's archers atop the castle walls responded with a cloud of arrows that scattered the enemy forces and forced them to flee back to the line of Canidae's foot soldiers.

On the other side of the castle, things were far less successful. The third siege tower and accompanying roofed carts were well past the strategic arc of sunken earth and were now headed uncontested towards the eastern wall. Here, Leuco was placed in command, supported only by the band of prisoners he had begged for Ursidor to set free.

The tower set itself close against the castle wall, exchanging arrows with Ursidor's archers.

The siege tower lowered its draw bridge and the leaping raiders were met with both pike and spear.

Leuco appeared, shield in one hand, his golden Liberator in the other. He began hacking the enemy from their plank almost as quickly as they appeared.

The enemy immediately recognized their foe defending the castle wall, and word quickly spread from the top of the tower to the drivers below that Leuco the Hawk was whittling away the ranks of their bravest. For a moment, the invaders at the end of the drawbridge hesitated to cross. They knew, though only a short distance, the journey to the other side would mean certain doom.

With the drawbridge clear, Leuco stormed the enemy's siege tower, swinging savagely at anything and everyone in his path.

Nephia watched in admiration. She had heard stories of the legendary Guardians in her father's service, but she had never actually seen them in action, save for Phelidae. From Leuco's determination and skill, she could tell they truly were formidable heroes and their reputation was more than well-deserved.

She gauged the distance from the wall to the tower. She wanted to join him, but she wasn't sure she could clear the divide between the two structures. With a single torch in her hand, she took a few steps back to give herself room to run. She took a deep breath and then sprinted to the edge. She leaped across and landed on her feet, nervously trying to keep her balance.

Leuco had still been ravaging the enemy, lashing out with his golden axe like a man gone mad. Nephia was careful not to get too close, lest he accidentally cut her down in his frightful fury.

"Leuco!" she called out flashing the torch in her hand.

Leuco looked back, quickly realizing what she had in mind. The tower was fire resistant on the outside, but on the inside it was still vulnerable. He tossed his shield into an approaching soldier, keeping him at bay just long enough for Nephia to toss him her torch. Leuco caught it and then immediately hacked into the nearest enemy with his axe. He slipped the torch through the soldier's belt, pulled his axe free, and then hurled him down the ladder, knocking over the others below as he fell.

"Go back!" he shouted to the princess, "Jump!"

She ran and dove across to safety. Leuco vaulted behind her and landed on his side. He rolled upon the ground, trying to catch his breath. He was slow to get up and when he did, he sat for a moment to regain his strength. He looked over to her and sighed.

"See these bones? One day, you'll have these problems too!"

The pair could hear the piercing cries of terrified screams coming from deep within the heart of the wooden structure. It, along with the scrambling soldiers within, quickly became engulfed by the inferno.

Just as Nephia helped Leuco to his feet, word came of a mining cart that set itself up against the castle wall. While the defenders were distracted by the tower's assault, the enemy soldiers below had already begun digging beneath the castle wall.

*

At the eastern gate of the keep, another mining cart had also been set up against the wall. They too began digging while a second ramming wagon assaulted the gate itself. The assaulting soldiers within pounded away with a violent rhythm of driving destruction.

"Hook the battering ram!"

From atop the castle wall, Ursidor's men tried snagging the head of the enemy's siege engine with the noose of a long iron chain.

Canidae's soldiers tried hacking away at its metal links. Unfortunately, this just made them easier targets for the defending archers above.

Having successfully caught the ram with their chain, Ursidor's soldiers lifted the shielded cart and dragged it across the castle wall. The men from within, now exposed to the shower of stones and arrows, scattered frantically for safety.

On the other side of the eastern gate, Empedo had been down below in the bailey, underneath the castle wall surveying the progress of what he could only describe as a radical military experiment.

Hectus drove his shovel into the earth again and again. He finally stopped a moment, pondering the whole experience.

"If we're digging here, Empedo, aren't we simply helping them finish faster?"

"Just keep digging!" the commander shouted in frustration as he departed. He couldn't help but wonder how Parnon dealt with such juvenile defiance.

Empedo had already considered the young man's concern. He concluded that the enemy would probably not bother digging all the way through. The only way to foil their plan was to stop them before they collapsed the wall. The more he thought about his plan however, the more he doubted it would ever work. He knew that failure would spell their doom.

His troops were in a desperate race. They planned to dig through the other side and stop the enemy's mining, destroy their equipment, and then fill up their hole again, all the while setting up wooden supports to keep their side of the castle wall form collapsing. It was another one of Parnon's far-fetched schemes, but Empedo had no other choice. He would have felt more comfortable if he had actually seen the deed done before. He wasn't even sure he was doing it properly.

Hectus was the lead miner. His size and strength gave them the speed they greatly needed. Behind him, Chiro had arrived to help set up planks.

Hectus took a brief moment to wipe his brow.

"Hey, where's Number One?"

Chiro's silence told the farm boy all he needed to hear.

Hectus let out a curse and drove his shovel deep into the ground. His pace quickened with an intense fervor that inspired his other comrades to do the same. For hours, Hectus worked frantically. Behind him, he heard someone call, "Hey, slow down, we're running out of supports!"

"This is a race, goblin breath!" Chiro argued. "We need to get to their side before they get to us!"

"Yeah," came the reply, "but what good is that if the wall comes crumbling down on us!"

Hectus took their arguing words as a second to rest. He leaned on his shovel trying to catch his breath. He was exhausted, but he thought about everyone who was counting on him. He thought about Bo and Parnon. Both had given their lives to defend Veredon from the invaders threatening to destroy their homes. Now it was his turn to do his part. The lives of his people, he knew, were now in his hands.

He set back to work in the darkness, thrusting his shovel deep into the earth, again and again.

Suddenly, the cavern wall began to shake and crumble as an outpouring of rocks rolled to his feet. Before his very eyes, he could see the wall of dirt collapse on its own. Behind it, he could make out the light of enemy torches.

Hectus called out for help, but unfortunately, there wasn't much his companions could do. The crowded tunnel was only wide enough for two people to walk freely side-by-side.

Though his arms and back ached, Hectus held tightly to his shovel, waiting for the enemy to break through the narrow chamber.

Chiro stood bravely beside him, a pick axe raised over his shoulder, ready to strike. "It's about time!" he said as he watched the enemy miners finally penetrate the barrier of earth.

The two let out a savage cry before driving their tools into the flesh of the intruders. There, ten feet underground, they slew many, desperately trying to breach through to the other side of their tomb. Gradually, the chamber filled with an unbearable warmth and the warriors found themselves having difficulty breathing.

Hectus realized the enemy miners had already ignited their planks. He pulled Chiro away, dragging him through the smoke-filled burrow. The tunnel began to shake. Dirt and rock fell from overhead. The two ran, fleeing from the loud rumbling avalanche of earth storming down behind them.

Empedo watched from above the castle wall. He saw the enemy cart below become engulfed in flame. He called his men back to the surface.

When Ursidor heard the news, he called for his mean to retreat from the eastern gate.

On the other side of the castle wall, Canidae's forces had gathered and waited before the flaming war machine. The burning bonfire inspired the mass of cheering foot soldiers. They stood watching in anticipation as the stone wall buckled under from lack of foundation. The castle wall sank into the earth, leaving a mound of rubble and broken stone. Canidae's troops stormed up the wall, breaking through into the keep.

Canidae stood atop his horse watching the whole scene play out just as he had planned.

"Now do we join the assault?" Faiden asked, hoping to take part in the carnage.

"Yes, and no," Canidae replied. "Have the troops fall back."

Faiden was confused. "But my lord, we have them!"

"Yes, but now it ends," Canidae replied, revealing a scroll from his belt. "When our forces are clear," he explained, "have this message delivered to Ursidor."

"Is this a request for surrender?" Faiden asked.

"Surrender?" Canidae scoffed and shook his head. "I know Ursidor. Believe me, he will fight to his very last breath. That would only serve to weaken our cause. No, I don't want them to surrender, Faiden. I want their spirits broken! I want them to embrace their fears—to abandon all hope! I want them to beg for death!"

Chapter XXXIII

The Ring of Fire

"It's a trap!" Empedo pleaded. "Surely, you can't accept his challenge!"

Ursidor also expected as much from his opponent, but the walls of his keep had fallen and his forces were greatly outnumbered.

Canidae separated him from all that he held dear. He had taken from him his best friend, his mentor and, of course, the woman whom he had yearned for nearly all his life.

Ursidor closed his eyes and clenched his fist. He could still see her beautiful face.

Ruse studied his father's expression. He knew if his father were to fall victim to Canidae's schemes all their victories would have been for nothing. Was his father considering such a foolish gamble to protect the people of Veredon, or was he simply secretly mourning for the death of Cervusian's wife? Ruse wondered. Would he truly put his throne, his kingdom, the safety of his own people, everything at risk merely for a love long-lost?

Leuco watched carefully, keeping quiet to avoid triggering Ursidor's temper. He didn't want to consider what kind of rash decision the old Bear would make under the influence of aggravation. Ursidor was indeed stubborn—of this, there was no doubt—but in his life, he had also proven his bravery time and time again. If Ursidor could end the war with a single fight between him and the Fox, then he had to accept the challenge. Leuco knew, that for a Guardian of Valinon, there could be no other choice.

"Canidae is a wily devil!" Empedo continued. "Surely he has some treachery planned!"

"This is a challenge I have avoided for far too long," Ursidor explained. "I will not back down! Will you have more sons of Veredon fall this night? Do you want to light the funeral pyres until every man is dead? With Canidae defeated, it ends tonight."

He looked to Maria, who appeared almost startled by his sudden offering of attention.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

Maria nodded her head soberly. She admired the old warrior's spirit, but she had seen the enemy up close and in person. She was in their camp, just a week before, speaking directly to one of their fanatical warrior priests. Their vile ways and mad beliefs disgusted her. She knew what they were capable of, and she knew they were not beyond the acts of deceit and dishonor.

"I will not be dissuaded," Ursidor declared. "My mind is made. Tonight I will fight Canidae to the death, and tonight peace will be restored to Cervusian's kingdom!"

Peace? Ruse thought about his father's words. Was he truly fighting for the peace of the realm, or was he merely fighting to restore peace within himself?

*

Atop the walls of the keep, the defenders of Veredon gathered to witness what they hoped would be the final battle.

Maria paced with unease. She had no desire to watch Ursidor and his Royal Guards ride out to meet their doom. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for—to get Canidae out in the open. She refused to stay safely huddled within the castle while the battle's conclusion was being waged below.

Maria was beginning to see that she had previously misjudged her human cousins. In their short time together, she realized that there were those in their kind that she had come to both admire and respect. Originally, she set out to protect her human kin out of guilt and obligation. Now she was determined to save those she considered her friends.

"I'm going with them," Maria announced, heading down the stone steps to the gate.

"What? Why?" Nephia followed close behind.

"We've come too far and too close to let these madmen get away with their crimes," Maria spoke as she prepared the saddle of her horse. "I've been given a task, and I mean to see it through. Ursidor is right. This ends tonight!"

*

With Empedo and his Royal Guards by his side, Ursidor rode out onto the ravaged battlefield to meet his bitter rival.

There, just outside the crumbled castle wall, Canidae waited within a circle of torches, kneeling in prayer with Faiden and his elite pack of Immortal Guards.

"Say your prayers now, villain," Ursidor whispered under his breath as he approached on his horse. "You're going to need them!"

Canidae stood, dressed in a white suit of armor: his helmet decorated with the black loop of Xeno's ankh, the inverted sides of its cross appearing much like the crooked horns of a bull. Resting at his sides were his infamous pair of black sickles.

He offered his regal guest a suspicious smile of unexpected courtesy.

"Greetings, Ursidor," Canidae called.

Ursidor offered no greeting in return. His head reeled with curses and accusations, which he struggled to keep to himself.

"Xenos compels us to take your castle," Canidae began. "If you wish, you may surrender now, and you and your people shall be spared."

Canidae spoke out of obligation, but in reality, he had absolutely no intention of letting anyone leave Ursidor's crippled keep alive. The mob behind him had developed a thirst for blood. Canidae had them convinced that the Veredonians were responsible for their years of suffering. Now they wanted the people of the hills to give up their lands and share in their misery.

"You are truly mad! Do you expect me to believe your lies?" Ursidor snapped. "I would rather die before I give you as much as a single blade of grass!"

Canidae nodded, unsurprised.

"I had a feeling you'd say something like that." He held his hand to his heart, offering a false gesture of sympathy. "I would be more than happy to grant you an early death."

"You snake!" Ursidor shouted. "You traitor! You cleverly turned the suspicion upon me, but I've always known it was you, Canidae! You killed Cervusian! You killed Lara! Even on the day we met, all those years ago, even then, I knew there was something wrong with you!"

"So, after all these years, you still deny murdering our king?" Canidae asked, pretending to be surprised. He knew very well his words would sting his opponent's heart.

"Cervusian was my best friend!" Ursidor argued. "I was always loyal and true!"

Canidae pressed the issue, "And yet you sought to make his wife your own?"

"I was faithful to both king and queen!" Ursidor shouted. "I loved them both!"

"That much is true..." Canidae scoffed.

Ursidor dismounted his horse, holding his mighty Morningstar in hand. He pointed it in Canidae's direction.

"Let us battle now, treacherous villain! Let the spirits of the dead be avenged! Let my weapon now speak the truth!"

"Truth?" Canidae asked. "The truth is that tonight you will die at the hand of your dearest friend."

"Friend?! You?! I would never make that foolish mistake!"

Canidae laughed, "You certainly were foolish enough to face me, though, weren't you?"

"We both know you could never best me in combat!" Ursidor reminded him proudly.

"Perhaps. But then I am not the one you will face. No, old friend, I won't be the one to ease your suffering. That is a task for the Guardians of Valinon—the hollow hypocrites who have forsaken their own souls! They have given themselves to sin, and now, all of them have fallen. Tell me, Ursidor, do you believe your heart is free of sin?"

Canidae turned to his soldiers as he began to walk away.

"Keep him busy," he commanded. "His old friends should be here shortly."

Ursidor tried to chase after him, but he was immediately challenged by Canidae's escort of Immortal Guards.

With his mighty weapon, Ursidor bashed in the face of the first intercepting soldier. Empedo and his Royal Guards quickly came to their king's defense, and soon the two parties were locked in brutal combat.

In the distance, between the exchange of blows and splattered blood, Ursidor could see what appeared to be the shadows of a massive mob now headed his way.

There was something quite peculiar about Canidae's reinforcements. They seemed to creep slowly as they approached, and all seemed to walk with a not-so-subtle limp. Many appeared slumped-over and some were even missing limbs. Ursidor began to wonder if they were even human.

All around him, the laying dead began to shift and move. Their bodies—even of those who had just fallen—were rising from the earth. Ursidor felt a hand reach for his ankle. He immediately swung at the clutching soldier, the one he had just killed seconds before, this time breaking his neck. Though the soldier's head now slumped grotesquely to its side, the broken body still continued to rise to its feet.

Ursidor struck again and again until finally the soldier was nothing more but a bloody pile of battered flesh and bones.

*

Back in Ursidor's keep, the same dark magic was taking effect.

The Regulars in charge of lighting the dead watched in disbelief as the bodies of the fallen began to shift and move.

Of the dead, many were missing limbs. Some were thin and black, charred from the flames of war. Their eyes were turned upwards and their mouths hung open as they moaned in a horrifying chorus of anguish and doom. All were bathed in caked blood, and their faces were frozen with the cold expression of living death. When they lifted themselves from the muddy ground, arms outstretched to take from those still breathing, the terrible scene quickly turned to panic.

Hysterical cries came from every corner of the keep. Soldiers scrambled about like roosters without heads. They sobbed and screamed, furiously proclaiming Canidae was responsible for bringing the dead to life. Others hopelessly declared the horror to be the working hand of Xenos himself.

Leuco had seen this magic before, long ago in a battle waged across the sea. This was not the work of Xenos. This was the work of a Necromancer.

Leuco mounted his horse and stopped at the gate. There he found Maria arguing with the Brigandine standing guard.

Leuco pulled his horse alongside hers.

"Let us through, soldier!" he demanded.

"I cannot, sir! There are more monsters out there! They could come inside!"

Leuco pointed to the chaos behind him. "Look around you! They are already inside! Out there is our salvation! Canidae is behind this dark magic and we mean to stop him! Now open the gate!"

"We're going with you!"

Leuco turned to see Ruse and Nephia arrive on horseback.

"My father needs my help," Ruse explained.

Leuco nodded his head in agreement. He admired the boy's loyalty and courage.

"And so do you," Nephia added, directing her words towards Maria.

"It's too dangerous, Princess," Maria replied. "You'll be safer here."

Nephia smiled. "But if I stay in here, who's going to look after you? We're friends, Maria. We stick together—"

Leuco finished her sentence for her.

"—Or we all fall apart?"

Nephia nodded, suddenly thinking of Bo. She expected to see him standing beside her.

Bo had come to Nephia's rescue more than once before. She would have felt more confident if he had been riding with them. Now there was no sign of him. She wondered. Had Canidae stolen yet another from her life? She didn't want to think about it.

"Open the gate!" Leuco shouted.

The guard finally gave in and opened the gate. The band of riders then stormed through the marching legion of corpses, immediately hacking their way through their ranks, stripping the swarming undead of both heads and limbs as they went.

*

On the other side of the cursed battlefield, Ursidor was bashing flesh and crushing bones with his maced polearm. In the corner of his eye he could see three figures, clad in rusty suits of once finely decorated armor. They surrounded him like a pack of hungry wolves.

Ursidor stood, paralyzed. He recognized these familiar monsters.

The first moved quickly and gracefully. In his hands, he wielded two curved swords and his black helm bore the head of a great mountain cat.

"Phelidae? Is that you?" Ursidor asked, wondering if he too had turned against the fellowship of Guardians.

The warrior let out a wretched moan and, in the light of the circled torches, Ursidor could see his face was pale and sunken—his eyes shrouded in wrinkled rings of black. Ursidor realized now that Phelidae had long been dead.

The warrior at his other side was much taller, but less human. He stomped as he walked, holding in his skeleton hands a heavy trident with three ornate blades. Though his horse-tailed helmet masked his face, Ursidor knew this to be another former ally. This was Equidin, the Tamer of Stallions.

"You, too?! But how can this be? You died so long ago! I remember... I remember!"

Ursidor stood frozen as his eyes fell upon the third challenger.

"No, not you!" he cried, more out of grief than fear. "Not you!"

The skeleton warrior was layered in blue plate mail and wielded both sword and shield. It was the monster's helmet, however, that gave away its identity. Both sides had the protruding antlers of a mighty stag.

"Cervusian!?" Ursidor whispered in disbelief. "How is this possible?"

These warriors, these friends, were all long dead, and yet now they stood before him ready to kill on the command of his mortal enemy.

The flames around them began to burn much brighter. Suddenly they burst, turning the dotted circle into a towering cylinder of fire.

Empedo and his men could only watch as Ursidor became trapped within, forced to face the fallen Guardians of Valinon on his own.

Chapter XXXIV

The Way of Kings

Canidae slowly made his way back to camp.

"You see, Faiden?" Canidae pointed out. "The battle comes to a close and soon the kingdom will be ours."

"Yes, my lord," Faiden replied from atop his black stallion. "The power of Xenos is great indeed!"

"CANIDAE!"

The warrior priest stopped his horse and slowly turned to meet the call of his name.

It was Leuco, storming furiously through the mass of marching corpses.

"Face me, Canidae!" Leuco shouted cutting the dead bodies apart with his mighty axe.

Faiden began to draw his sword. Canidae stopped him with his raised hand.

"Leuco is an old friend," he commanded, "Let us at least grant him the courtesy of conversation."

Leuco reined in his horse. Maria and Nephia followed close behind, keeping the undead forces at bay with their swords.

"It has been a long time, Leuco!" Canidae offered with sincere smile. "Too long! In fact, I thought you were dead!"

Leuco was speechless. With all that Canidae had done, the scheming fox had the gall to greet him as if they were still friends.

Canidae acknowledged his confusion with a nod. His eyes looked about the battlefield, admiring the flaming carnage.

"Our dream has become quite the nightmare, hasn't it, old friend?" he remarked, finally breaking the silence.

Leuco shook his head and asked, "Why, Canidae? If our friendship has ever meant anything to you, I beg of you to tell me! Why? Why have you done all this?"

"You are my friend, Leuco," Canidae began to explain. "You always have been; that much is true. We are sworn brothers—Guardians of Valinon! But many things have changed since last we met. Our world has changed, and so have I."

Leuco shook his head as he spoke,"This is wrong, Canidae! It makes no sense!"

"But of course it does! I am setting things right! Look around you, Leuco. You swore to protect these people, but look at what has happened! It didn't have to be like this. You could have been the one to lead them. You could have been their king, but you chose to live alone and to serve no one but yourself. I am merely doing that which the Guardians could not. I am fulfilling our worthy dream—the dream Cervusian failed to uphold!"

Canidae fiercely pounded his finger to his chest.

"I am reuniting the realm and restoring the glory of Valinon! I am restoring the peace to a land of one—a land of one kingdom, one people, and one true king! This is the will of Xenos!"

"Xenos?" Leuco argued. "I know you, Canidae. You are no holy man! You don't believe in any Xenos!"

"Believe it friend, for it is the truth," Canidae replied. "I have finally found my true calling. I am a loyal follower of Xenos. I am his servant! I am his voice!"

Leuco shook his head, "What has happened to you, Canidae? It was your honor, your valor, your friendship, that convinced me to turn against my father and follow Cervusian's banner. Now they say it was you who turned against him—he, whom we both had sworn to serve! They say you murdered him, Canidae. Is this true?"

"Cervusian the Stag," Canidae scoffed, "The righteous king!"

"Is it true?!" Leuco snapped, his patience exhausted.

"Yes, it's true!" Canidae exclaimed, "The man was weak and his soul lacked both honor and chivalry. He was unworthy to be king!"

"No, Canidae," Leuco began to argue. "He was the most honorable of all of us! That's why we trusted him! That's why we followed him!"

"Honor? What do you know of honor? You, who first betrayed your own father, Rodin, the notorious Dark Lord, then again here against Ursidor and your fellow brothers in arms? You wish to speak to me of honor? You know nothing of honor!"

Canidae's words pierced Leuco's heart.

"I alone know the truth about Cervusian," Canidae continued. "I know all his dirty secrets. Do you truly believe, after assuming all that power, Cervusian's hands would still remain clean?"

Canidae shook his head. "The man was unfaithful and deceitful! And now, look around you. His twisted legacy is now destroyed, and now, so is Ursidor's! The Guardians of Valinon will be nothing but history, and the only one left to rule this realm will be me!"

Leuco knew he was wrong. Beside Maria fought Cervusian's true legacy: his daughter and rightful heir. If he challenged Canidae, he could save the princess before she was discovered. If she lived, there would still be hope for Cervusian's kingdom to be restored and the realm reunited.

But then he heard Maria call from behind. She was shouting from atop her horse.

"You are making a mistake, Canidae! You are blindly putting your people, yourself, and everyone in the realm in grave danger!"

"Who is this strange woman, Leuco?" Canidae asked, insulted by her disruption.

"I know this shrew!" Young Faiden interrupted. "I have heard her description from our men. She is the green witch who has been stalking our camps and spoiling our plans!"

"I am no witch!" Maria replied. "And I certainly am no shrew! I am a hunter of the forest— the very forest you have pillaged for your campaign of war! I have seen the destruction that you have brought to my home, all for the sake of your selfish schemes. You have disturbed the Spirits of the Forest and now they seek to restore the balance. Unless you stop this campaign right now, the Spirits will lash out against the realm and bring disease to all people: both yours and Ursidor's. And I guarantee you, Canidae, it will be a disease even Xenos himself cannot protect against!"

Canidae shouted back at her, "You think I fear death!? You don't know what I've seen, woman! You don't where I have been! I have been dead and I have been reborn! Look around you!" He pointed to the legion of undead soldiers making their way into the castle. "Behold! Witness the power of Xenos! Witness the glory of life beyond death! Witness the strength of will! Witness the pains of being pure at heart!"

Maria turned to Leuco, shaking her head in frustration, "Are all your people mad?"

"No," Nephia answered, "Just the older ones!"

Canidae stopped and stared. He recognized the voice from the fire in Na'balit's lair. He recognized, too, the girl's bright ivory hair.

"It's true!" he gasped aloud. "Nephia!"

Leuco tried to get the girl to stop talking, but her rage had already consumed her.

"That's right, you scum-sucking monster!" Nephia now had her sword out, pointed directly at his heart. "You killed my parents, Canidae! Now it is your time to suffer!"

"Kill her, Faiden!" Canidae ordered, "Kill the girl! NOW!"

Faiden spurred his horse and rode out to attack. Maria rode between them to intercept his powerful blow with her sword.

Leuco was about to come to their defense when Canidae called to him. He looked back to see the Patriarch already dismounted from his horse. There he stood, drawing his pair of black sickles from his side.

"You want to end this Leuco? You want to go home to your little farm and your little woman and live the rest of your days in peace? Then face me and we can end this all right now!"

Leuco's eyes flared. All he ever wanted was peace. His whole life had been an endless succession of war and violence, and now, more than ever, he was determined to fight to the end. Canidae was right. Many things had changed since last they met. His friend was truly dead. All that stood before him now was nothing more than the shadow of a past best left forgotten.

Leuco dropped from his horse, and thrust his Golden Liberator, blade first, into the earth. Then, with the strength and will of his heavy conscience, he drew his pair of hatchets from his belt.

The two paced a circle, facing each other, waiting to see who would be the first to strike.

"So it's come to this?" Leuco asked, his weapons gleaming in the firelight. "Tell me Canidae, when did we stop being heroes?"

"Speak for yourself! There is yet one Guardian who stands to set things right!"

"You've never bested me, Canidae," Leuco taunted.

"The same could be said for you, old friend," Canidae returned.

With that, their weapons met. The clanging of cold steel sounded the beginning of their deadly duel and the end of their fateful friendship.

*

Ruse watched as his father faced off against the three undead warriors. He wanted to help, but the flames had kept him outside the battle and his father precariously trapped inside.

"We need to help him!" Ruse cried.

Empedo thought to himself, "There's nothing we can do, unless..."

"Unless what?"

"... unless we try to toss you over," Empedo's voice suggested a lack of confidence in his improvised plan.

"Do it!" Ruse replied, preparing himself by putting his sword in its scabbard.

Empedo had his pair of remaining soldiers form a base for Ruse to climb. He set himself on top, shielding his eyes from the intense heat. He could feel his skin roasting from its blistering radiance. His sword and shield were burning his hands.

Unable to bear the pain any longer, Ruse closed his eyes and leaped. He curved his back in mid-flight, barely clearing the tips of the scorching flames.

Ruse tumbled on the ground and immediately recovered to his feet. He drew his sword and instantly drove it deep into Equidin's back and straight through his skeletal chest.

Ruse stumbled in reverse, as the dark knight turned his attention now to the brave young prince. Without his blade, Ruse held firm to his shield hoping to block the Guardian's attack.

Then came his father's savage battle cry.

Ursidor swung his Morningstar over his head and slammed it down like a mighty hammer. The powerful blow landed squarely on Equidin's helmet, crushing it under the force of the impact and shattering the warrior's skull to pieces.

Ursidor suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot through his back. His face cringed as he discovered the long tip of a familiar blade piercing through his chest.

Ursidor freed himself from the bloody weapon and spun quickly to face his enemy. He raised his Morningstar just in time to meet Phelidae's sweeping second sword, which would have certainly cleaved into his neck.

Now fatigued, and gravely wounded, Ursidor struggled to keep up with Phelidae's tempestuous two-handed assault.

As a legendary Guardian and unrivaled swordsman, Canidae's brother was well-known, and well-feared, as Phelidae the Panther. Though long dead, his animated corpse moved with the feline grace he was notorious for in life. With his pair of blades he slashed in a dizzying display of metallic fury.

To keep his father from being shred to pieces, Ruse rushed to help. He tossed his shield aside, and with his other hand, reached for Equidin's trident.

Phelidae's corpse could sense the boy approach from its rear. It briefly pointed a single blade in his direction, as if to accept the young prince's challenge. Then, almost immediately, it turned away to retreat.

Ruse motioned to follow the undead warrior, but quickly discovered the reason it had fled: Cervusian's skeleton was already in mid-swing.

"Ruse!" his father howled.

The young prince quickly parried the bastard sword's swing. Then, with the angled fork of Equidin's trident, he locked Cervusian's blade, just long enough for him to gaze upon the frightening face of his antlered opponent. Piercing, ruby eyes glared back at him from deep within the dark sockets of its skull. They blazed into Ruse's soul, stirring within him an uncontrollable feeling of terror.

Ruse shook himself free from the king's spell. He pushed his opponent back with the shaft of his trident and prepared to defend himself from a second assault.

This time Cervusian's skeleton approached again, playfully feigning attacks to provoke the young prince to swing.

Ruse foolishly took the bait. His weapon banged against the king's mighty shield. The skeleton king then countered with a sweeping attack that caught the young prince deep in his shoulder.

Out of rage, but mostly out of fear, he fixed the trident in his hands and rushed forward, driving it over the king's shield and deep into the skeleton's chest. Ruse could hear the bones of the rib cage snap and break all the way through to the undead warrior's back.

The cursed monster responded with cackling laughter.

Ruse tightened his grip and then charged again, this time carrying his enemy's body with him. He let the trident go, watching the momentum carry the monster through the towering ring of fire. Cervusian's corpse immediately burst into flames.

Ruse turned to find his father, who, with his mighty weapon, had just smashed Phelidae's remains to bits and pieces.

Ursidor dropped to his knees, almost as soon as Phelidae's swords fell against the earth.

Ruse knelt beside him, holding him up. His father's armor was pierced, hacked, and drenched in blood. He tried to help his father stand, but the mighty king shook his head.

"Father, we need to get you back to the castle!"

Ruse thought of the ring of fire still burning around them. He had no idea how either of them was going to escape.

"No," Ursidor said, removing his great helm. With his face now growing pale, the head of the roaring bear appeared to grow silent. "I am finished."

"Don't give up, we can finish this!" Ruse cried.

Ursidor fell over, blood now dripping from his mouth with every word. It hurt for him to speak. It hurt even more to move.

"My son, forgive me," he hoarsely whispered, "I have not been a good father..."

"No, everything is fine now," Ruse said, tears filling his eyes.

"No, I wasted too much time—too much time mourning a life I never had. I had forgotten the lives of those that truly meant the most."

Ursidor coughed, struggling to form the words. "This kingdom is all I have left. This is... yours... now... Be a better man... a good man...a good king... tell your mother... I'm sorry... Ruse... I'm sorry... I..."

Ursidor's words trailed off with his final breath—words the prince had waited all his life to hear. His father's head slumped low and fell into Ruse's blood-stained hands.

Ruse felt his long hair brush across his cheek. There was a soft wind sweeping through. It lifted sparkling embers and dry grass all around. Then, the flaming pillars surrounding him suddenly went out.

There, behind the clouds of smoke and the indigo of night's end, scores of battle-weary spectators looked on as the prince destined to be king silently wept.

Chapter XXXV

The Pains of Being Pure of Heart

The force of Faiden's mounted attack knocked Maria clear off her saddle. She hit the earth with her shoulder and, thankfully, not with her skull.

Faiden reeled his steed about, hoping to finish her by crushing her spine like a twig.

Maria desperately rolled away, barely escaping the stomping hooves of his armored horse.

Nephia rode between them, her sword raised, poised to strike. Faiden casually swatted her blade aside with his shield. She now had his full attention.

"Phelidae was no match for me, Princess. What makes you think you can do any better?"

Nephia instinctively met Faiden's crashing falchion with her sword. It scraped against her blade down to its swept hilt. Faiden could feel her arm tremble against his superior strength.

"Are you prepared to embrace Oblivion?" he asked with a sinister glare.

Nephia raised her sword to strike, determined to swipe the wicked expression from his face.

Their weapons clashed in a violent embrace of steel. Though at a disadvantage, Nephia refused to yield. She fought fiercely to meet every swing of his curved blade. Yet even with her best efforts, she still could not gain the advantage. Faiden had a greater reach.

"Such a feral kitten," Faiden teased. "It's a shame to waste such untamed beauty!"

Nephia finally broke through his offense, but her desperate lunge only struck his shield. He returned the favor with repeated blows. Again and again, he struck her shield until she could no longer withstand the strength of his punishing barrage.

Overpowered, just as Maria before her, she fell from her steed and landed flat on her back. Above her, Faiden's white horse rose like a hammer poised to strike.

Before she could react, Nephia felt her body being lifted from the ground. Someone had pulled her free and tossed her out of harms away. Her rescuer's face was covered in dirt and mud, but she quickly recognized the familiar pair of bright, piercing eyes.

It was Bo.

Having taken the brunt of the horse's attack, Nephia's protector was now struggling to stand. Wincing from the pain of the horses stomping hooves, he pulled the two halves of his spear from his sides and quickly put them together. Then, with every ounce of strength left in his battered body, he drove the Dragon Tail deep through the muscled chest of Faiden's horse.

Bo fell back from the exhaustion and pain, fully expecting the heavy horse to tumble over and crush his battered bones. The horse instead rose and shook on its hind legs, tossing Faiden over and into a puddle of mud.

Bo was laying on his side, struggling to move. He knew this was Nephia's chance to escape. He shouted for her to run, but the princess wasn't listening. She was determined to stay and fight.

Faiden stood prepared. He tossed his shield aside, and brushed the wet soil form his face. He spat and drew his poisoned black dagger from his belt. Now wielding a blade in each hand, he was ready to finish what he had started.

"That's the spirit!" he playfully applauded. "You may have the face of an angel, girl, but at heart, you're nothing but a wicked hellion!"

Suddenly, Faiden jerked in pain. He looked down to see a feathered arrow protruding from his chest. Before he could react, there quickly came another.

Faiden gasped in shock. Struggling to stand, he quickly fell to one knee.

Maria appeared beside Bo, stoically prepared to draw another arrow from her quiver.

"Wait!" Nephia protested as she set upon the wounded warrior, her sword firmly in hand.

"You hear that?!" she yelled to him as he took his final breaths. "That is the sound of your beating heart..."

She raised her sword.

"... marching its way to OBLIVION!"

She drove her blade deep into his chest, watching his eyes widen and blink until they were finally still. She paused to celebrate the morbid moment, as if she were admiring the delicate petals of a plucked wildflower.

Finally, she pulled her weapon free and kicked Faiden's lifeless body face first into the mud. She stepped aside, feeling a shiver run down the length of her spine.

"Ugh!" Nephia let her body shake itself clean. "These maniacs make me sick!"

Looking back, she could see Maria standing above Bo's injured frame. The two were watching the scene unfold, faces frozen, silently aghast.

*

A great procession of even more grotesque figures rose from Canidae's camp. There, in an enormous pit, these bodies had already begun their decomposition. The terrible sight and putrid stench horrified the simple peasants in Canidae's army. They had never seen such a frightful sight. Fortunately for them, the undead army marched straight past their lines and headed directly for Ursidor's keep.

Canidae had promised to restore their kingdom to its former glory. He promised to reward them with freedom from poverty and from death.

Watching the terror unfold, they quickly realized the truth behind his promises. They knew now what Canidae had in store for his faithful followers. Even in death, they would serve as his slaves. It was clear to them now that their leader was no priest.

They ran to find their Patriarch, in search of answers. In this search, they found him locked in a duel to the death.

With the fire of their torches illuminating the scene, the angry mob immediately recognized Canidae's challenger: Leuco the Hawk—Champion of Veredon and legendary Guardian of Valinon.

The crowd gathered to watch the contest, finding themselves secretly rooting for the man they had hours ago yearned to see destroyed. Now they wanted justice. Now they wanted Canidae to pay.

With all their hopes and fears riding on the outcome, the armed spectators watched mesmerized by the flurry of both warriors' dextrous skill.

The two Guardians twirled and danced with their blades as they clashed within a torrent of sliding steel. They seemed to anticipate each other's every move and every attack was met immediately with a raised weapon in defense.

The battle went on until the break of dawn with neither warrior claiming an advantage. Leuco began to feel the strain of exhaustion. Unlike his opponent, he had been battling all night, and now his age was starting to take its toll. His whole life he fought in battle, and now when he needed his strength the most, he found his body lacking.

Sensing his opponent growing weak, Canidae tried to seize the advantage. Leuco was slowing. Soon he would have his opening. Soon he would be the victor.

Leuco knew the people of Veredon, and now even those of Valinon, were counting on him. He could not falter. He could not err. For them, for himself, for Cimmie, he would not fail.

Leuco turned his body to avoid a sweeping attack to his neck. That's when he caught Canidae's opposite blade. The sickle's sharp point tore deep into his upper arm.

Canidae grinned, continuing his slicing motion. He could feel the ripping of flesh deep to the bone. He knew contest had come to its end.

For Leuco, however, the outcome was never in doubt. He rolled with the painful attack, and continued his turn, twirling a full circle. Then, with his backhand, he drove his axe deep into the base of Canidae's neck. When he pulled his weapon free, the writhing body toppled to the ground. Canidae's bloody helmet rolled from his head and fell before Leuco's boot.

Leuco slumped to his side, gingerly holding his bloody arm. The gash was deep and had sliced through his aching muscles. The pain was far worse now that he could see his injury. He held his wound tightly to stop it from bleeding, but mostly he held onto his limb to keep it from falling.

He looked up at the spectators, praying they wouldn't draw their weapons. He was far too weak and far too vulnerable. Even if he could, he had no desire to fight.

The followers of Xenos stood in silence, confused by what they all agreed to be a terrible nightmare. They had put all their faith in Canidae, and in the end he had revealed himself to be nothing more than a maniacal monster.

Now, with their leader lying dead, the mob of angry Valinonians were overcome with a feeling of resignation. They looked to one another, feeling utterly lost and abandoned.

The crowd parted for Leuco as he made his way back to the keep.

One of Canidae's followers called out to him.

Leuco stopped and turned. He couldn't find the speaker in the low light of early morning.

"What do we do now?" the voice asked.

Leuco took a deep breath. His body shook, and he felt a chill run along his spine.

"Now we go home," he answered.

"But who will lead us?" another voice called.

Leuco lowered his head. Had they learned nothing from their ordeal? Was he the only one watching the battle? Cervusian failed them. Canidae betrayed them. Ursidor bullied them. He wanted to tell them to lead themselves. He wanted to tell them to do good, to try and help those in need; to live their life free of greed and hate. He wanted to tell them to live a life free of violence; to spread simple kindness, and to treasure the friendship of their neighbors and brothers...

And yet he could not.

How could he suggest such things after what he had just done? How could they accept his words without seeing the lie within him?

Leuco was tired, and he was bleeding. He wanted to go home.

A young soldier, dressed in the white cloth of Xenos approached him. In his arms he held Leuco's Golden Liberator. He raised the mighty weapon for the old warrior to take with him.

But Leuco merely shook his head. He removed his winged helm and tossed it aside as he departed.

Without looking back, he let out a sigh.

"I won't be needing that. Not anymore."

*

With Canidae's death, the bodies of the dead returned to their eternal slumber.

Canidae's dispirited army of volunteer soldiers, peasants, and priests stood for a long while, idling about in confusion.

The morning sun was now in full bloom, and Canidae's weary flock had no more use of their waning torches. With their heads hanging low, they began their long procession home. They marched slowly and silently, reflecting on how they let their strings of misery and fear be plucked and pulled by the vanity of an evil crook.

*

Ruse sat alone, holding his father in his arms. All around him he heard his fellow soldiers cheer.

Ruse knew that the kingdom of Veredon was now his to rule, but the thought filled him with grief. He knew it was far too great a responsibility for him to bear alone.

What kind of king would he become? Would he become like his father? After all, it was his blood that coursed through his veins. Would he, too, become a cold, heartless tyrant?

He looked over at the scorched, smoking heap of Cervusian's bones. Once a well-respected and beloved king, his black remains lay mutilated and broken as another example of the price of power and the potential for corruption.

Now that he was king, would he too share this fate?

Ruse made his hands into fists, slamming them against the earth. Even in death, his father's expectations still weighed heavy on his shoulders.

Ruse promised himself then and there, in the company of fallen kings, that for the pride of his mother, and for the prosperity of his people, he would strive to be better than those that came before him. He pledged, to not just be a better king, but to be a better man.

Chapter XXXVI

Homecoming

"So you are leaving then?" Ruse asked from atop his father's throne.

"I must return home," Nephia repeated. "My people need me."

Ruse nodded in agreement. He sat up, uneasily, trying to hide his discomfort.

"The road to Valinon is crawling with Canidae's bitter followers," Empedo added. "It may be unsafe for you to travel alone."

"Perhaps," Nephia replied, offering Maria a playful wink, "but we can take care of ourselves."

"That much is true," Ruse remarked with a grin. "But still, Empedo is right. I'd like to offer you an escort. You know, as a sign of goodwill between our peoples."

"We are one people, my lord," Nephia corrected. "We just live in different places."

Ruse nodded and added, "More the reason to help one another, don't you think?" He gestured for a pair of soldiers to come forward.

"That is very kind of you, my lord," Maria replied, "but that is truly unnecessary."

"Perhaps, I can offer my services then?"

The gathering in the court watched in admiration as a battered and bruised Bo approached the king's throne.

"My lord, I'd like to volunteer to accompany the princess on her journey."

Ruse was surprised to see Bo already dressed and prepared for travel. Word of his exploits in battle had already spread all throughout Keeptown. Ruse, himself, had heard of his feats of skill on the battlefield, as well as his harrowing escape from his tomb beneath the earth. Ruse admired his comrade's courage.

"You've been through quite a bit, Number One. Are you sure you're up for such a journey? Perhaps you should get some rest."

Maria stepped forward, "My lord, if you please, we really must be leaving—"

"But," Nephia interrupted, "we would greatly appreciate Bovi's company!"

Nephia smiled and looked over to Maria whose expression clearly revealed an interest in haste.

"And yes, it is true," Nephia quickly added. "We are in a bit of a hurry. There are still some very important matters left for us to attend to in Valinon."

"Very well," Ruse replied. "Perhaps, in the future, after things are more... settled, I may come to visit you in your castle."

Nephia offered a playful curtsy and smiled sweetly as she spoke.

"I would be honored, my lord."

Maria offered a humble bow to the court, and Bo gave the customary salute of loyal Brigandines.

Ruse returned the gesture and watched them depart. Then, he set himself back upon his father's throne.

When the young adventurers were gone, Empedo began to whisper in the young king's ear.

"My lord, you should have kept them here! This is your chance to unite the kingdoms!"

Ruse shook his head.

"In the old days, perhaps that is how things were done. But the princess and I are allies, if not friends. She joined our ranks to defeat my father's enemy. We owe her at least some thanks. "

Empedo lowered his head and sighed.

Ruse added some words to comfort his father's old lieutenant.

"Trust me, Empedo. Today, the realm is one step closer to being reunited."

Before he could reply, one of Empedo's Royal Guards entered the chamber. The soldier cautiously approached the king's throne, his face full of shame.

"My lord, I'm afraid I have some rather unsettling news."

"What is it?" Ruse asked.

"We were piling the bodies for burning..."

"Yes...?"

"I'm sorry my lord, but Canidae's body is missing!"

*

There was no celebration after the victory at Keeptown. There was only the tearful mourning, the putrid stench of death, and the gray, billowing smoke from the flaming funeral pyres of Veredon's fallen heroes.

As the new king of Veredon, Ruse was expected to reach beyond the borders of his father's kingdom, unite the realm, and restore the peace. This was a daunting task, and young Ruse gathered his father's advisers and allies for counsel.

Leuco was the first to be approached by the young king to help rebuild Ursidor's kingdom, but the old warrior politely refused.

Leuco had come to admire the newly crowned king and earnestly believed him to be a young man of great potential. He knew the boy had learned, not only from his example, but from that of his courageous father. More importantly, he knew Ruse had learned from their mistakes. Leuco was confident that the young king was fully capable of dealing with such a profound responsibility and that the realm would be well-served for many years to come.

The old warrior returned to his childhood home in the secluded, emerald valley of the Northern Hills of Veredon. There, he and his loving wife Cimmie planned to raise a happy family and live out the rest of their days in a quiet, peaceful bliss free from the violent struggles of heroes and kings.

*

As Maria walked, her boots crunched and crackled the red and golden leaves that blanketed the floor of her forest home. Unlike the disrobed trees preparing for their coming slumber, the half-elf hunter was dressed for the autumn air with a layer of thick furs. She made her way deeper into the giant, evergreen forest, home of the ancient trees that towered high above and pierced the brooding sky.

Finally, Maria came to the very place where she and Nephia had encountered Praedos nearly a year before. In her hand she carried with her a sack—a peace offering for her ancient neighbor.

She made her way deeper into the dense forest, following the Nephi River to its source beneath the Towering Titan peaks. There, hidden behind a sheet of cascading water, was the cavernous home of Praedos.

The half-elf hunter called out his name until finally the tattooed cyclops appeared. He carried with him a dead fox in one hand, and in the other, a small, mysterious wooden box.

Maria opened her bag, revealing the great helm of Canidae's armor.

"The threat is no more, Praedos," she said tossing the helmet at his feet. "I have stopped the humans from destroying the forests and I have the word of the new king and queen that this forest is, and forever will be, safe from harm."

"They gave you their word?" Praedos asked sarcastically. "The word of a human?" He looked to his box, and shook his head.

"What is that?" Maria asked suspiciously.

"Fear not, Elf-child. I will not harm your human friends. The Spirits of the Forests no longer fear them. It is agreed that the peace continues—at least for now. Who knows what wickedness the humans will bring about in the future."

"They are not all wicked, Praedos," Maria began, "and they are not all slaves to desire. There are those amongst them who cherish life and friendship. They protect the innocent in the name of virtue. I have discovered a goodness within them—one I had long forgotten."

"So, you plan to live amongst them, to help them?" Praedos asked. "Do you plan to teach them to live like us?"

"I plan to live amongst them, yes, but not to teach them. I am half elf, and I am half human, Praedos. I plan to learn from them. I realize now that I don't have to be alone. There is still much left for me to explore and to experience in this world."

"Then you are leaving?" Praedos asked, seeming surprised by her words.

"I cannot stay here," Maria replied. "At least not now. Not yet."

"You will be back, Elf-child. You and I are kindred spirits. You belong here in the forest, just as I do."

Although Praedos had said the words, Maria knew that even he had trouble believing them.

"Perhaps," she replied, "but that is a choice I have yet to make."

Maria turned to leave, and as she did, pearly-white snowflakes began to fall from the sky. She could feel them melt as they softly kissed her cheek.

Maria covered herself with her cloak and waved goodbye.

"Farewell, Praedos!"

With his one eye, the gray giant watched as she disappeared into the trees.

*

Maria finally reached her small cottage in the western corner of the Valinonian forest. There she found Bo and Nephia, sitting atop a fallen tree, waiting patiently for her return.

The young pair was busy smiling and laughing, admiring the beauty and wonder of the first snowfall.

Maria stood and watched as the two laughed, tossing to one another handfuls of snow.

She began to wonder if she had made a mistake agreeing to travel with such youthful misfits. She stood in appreciation of the scene, admiring the happiness of their juvenile play.

It was amazing how quickly the seasons had changed, Maria thought. For the first time in ages, winter had taken her completely by surprise. And within herself, she too felt a transformation.

For the longest time, she felt as if she was only ever half a person: either half-elf or half-human.

She was determined now to try to be both.

When Maria finally revealed herself, Nephia immediately greeted her with a warm smile and a comforting hug. The young princess understood well the great sacrifice Maria was making. She wasn't just saying goodbye to Praedos and her home in the forest. She was saying goodbye to her very way of life.

The three heroes left the snow-covered forest, and when the trees parted, the towers of Cervusian's Citadel came magnificently into view.

Nephia marveled at how, after all Valinon had gone through, all the pain and suffering of conspiracy and conflict, the alabaster walls still gleamed like a jewel in the bright light of day.

Nephia's eyes welled with tears. She was finally going home.

J. Christopher Cortez was born and raised in Southern California. He lives there still, in a tiny condo by the beach with his beautiful and supportive wife. When he is not writing in the summer, he is busy teaching children in the classroom.

