

The Paths to Oraj

by

Steven Kittinger

Copyright 2012 by Steven Kittinger

Smashwords Edition
Oraj (ôr,äSH)---

A once grand building that served as a gathering place for members of the Four Races, it now lies in ruins. However, for those who know the true secrets inside its walls, Oraj will serve as the starting point for a journey that will bring light to a land on the edge of darkness.

Chapter 1

A True Hunter

In the deep woods of the Palagric Forest on the western edge of the world known as Livinthia, a graceful yet deadly creature crouched silently on a tree branch over a hundred yards above the ground and surveyed the dense vegetation stretching out below. The creature was named Shala, and he was a Sol.

In the world of Livinthia, Sols were one of the Four Races that inhabited the land. They had Human-like attributes but were more attuned with cats and other beasts of the wild in appearance and mind. All had tails, and most males grew what could be considered a mane. And every Sol could use Magick.

Magick was an elementary power in the world of Livinthia. Each race used Magick in a different way, and for Sols, they used it in what was known as Storing. They could gather Magick into themselves, and when the need arose, they could use that Magick to increase their stealth, strength, and speed. This ability made Sols a very formidable creature.

Shala was such a creature. But he was young. Only twelve summers had come and gone since his birth. And now he found himself in a moment that would define who he would become.

As he crouched atop the thick branch, Shala looked down from his perch and scanned the area for movement of his prey. He was completely still; only his eyes searched through the nearly leafless branches of what was the beginning of winter in this part of the world. The Palagric Forest was actually in a valley tucked between the Grey Mountains and the peaks of the Southern Range. This location of the Forest kept the climate warm, and usually humid, almost year round.

The weather, however, was the last thing on Shala's mind as he focused on the task at hand. He sat silently, preparing himself. He let the Magick of the world fill his body from head to toe, drinking it in as if it was the last drop of water in a desert. He tried to concentrate fully on this task, but the words of his teacher still rang through his thoughts.

"This is your test. Do not fail."

Shala had not expected anymore instructions from his teacher and none had come. He knew what his test was. It was the same test all Sols had to go through when they were on the verge of manhood. He had known others of his tribe a few years older who had passed the test, and unfortunately, he had known one or two who had not. Those were rare occurrences, though, and best not remembered. A Sol couldn't be considered an adult if he couldn't provide for himself first; that's what this test was all about.

Then Shala saw what he had been waiting for. From his vantage point, his prey was only a tiny point in the forest, but Shala had trained all of his senses, from sight to smell, to be the perfect combination of a true hunter. His prey was a long-tailed spotted deer, and his only weapon, a curved dagger that he held at the ready in his right hand. It was time to act.

Shala burst forward, charging swiftly down the length of the branch. The Sol had lived amongst the trees all his life, so balancing on the rounded surface as he sprinted at full speed was no more a thought in his head than breathing.

The branch became increasingly narrower and begin to bend as Shala reached the end of the tree. But he knew what he was doing. When the branch looked certain that it would break, he jumped. He rose into the air, feeling the sun against his face, before gravity caught him, and he began to plummet downwards.

Branches and leaves blurred past him as he fell between the trees, which rose to the heaven around him. The ground was speeding towards him as well, welcoming him with open arms. But Shala wasn't ready for that embrace just yet.

He directioned his body slightly and sped toward one of the larger branches of the next tree. Waiting until he was mere feet away, Shala flicked his tail and landed on the branch, which bent and shook slightly from the impact. A few leaves fell, but not enough to draw the attention of the deer, which was still nearly fifty yards below.

The branch hadn't even stopped trembling before Shala was on the move again. He made his way closer to the trunk where the limb was sturdier. As he went, the Sol looked over the edge at his prey. The deer still walked innocently through the forest, unaware of the danger that awaited just over its head.

Shala knew he wasn't in the best position to strike just yet, for the deer was still ahead of him. He would have to round the tree in order to get right on top of the deer. So he pushed off from the limb he was on and leapt to a nearby branch. He landed softly but only paused a moment before pushing off again, aiming for the next tree branch. In this way he circled the trunk and gained ground on his prey. From limb to limb, he stalked, his tail streaming out behind, giving him the precise balance he needed.

Finally, Shala stopped and looked towards the ground once again. But the deer wasn't where he had expected. The creature had changed its course and was now walking away from the tree at an angle that would not allow Shala to get directly above it.

Shala knew that he was close enough to his prey at this point to fall to the ground here and be able to catch the deer. But running through the forest for the next hour chasing his prey would not be the most elegant way to pass this test. There were many eyes watching him today, and they would all be studying how he handled himself on this hunt.

Even if he couldn't see them, Shala knew there were probably at least a dozen Sols in the trees around him at that very moment. His teacher would be there and some of the elders of the tribe, even a few of his companions that had passed the test already. But out of all the Sols who might be watching, there was only one that really concerned Shala. His father.

As all new cubs in the tribe, Shala had been raised by his mother and the other females. He knew who his father was, but his father had never spoken to him or shown any care for his well being. Only if Shala passed this test and became a true hunter would his father finally acknowledge him as a son. And that's why Shala knew he was going to kill this deer with one blow. The better the kill, the more proud his father would be.

As the deer ambled across the forest floor, nibbling on bits of grass, Shala prepared himself. He backed up against the massive tree trunk and zeroed in on his prey, holding his dagger at the ready. He could feel the Magick burning inside of him and knew that he would need all the skill he possessed to complete this attack. It was now or never.

Shala stepped off the branch and fell like a rock. He kept his legs up against his chest and waited. He waited as the wind whipped past him and the ground quickly approached. He waited until he was within fifty feet of the ground. Then forty. Thirty. Then it was time.

Shala waved his tail and suddenly the world slowed. As if the gears of time had screeched to a halt, seconds passed in minutes. To Shala, he seemed now suspended in midair. He could still see the wind and the world rushing by, but they were moving in a thick haze. His muscles burned, and he could feel a fire raging in his chest as he harnessed the Magick inside of him. He wouldn't be able to hold this for very long.

Not wasting anymore time, Shala flexed his legs and kicked backwards with all the force he could muster. His feet hit the tree trunk and if breaking the trance, the world was awake once again. Time caught up to itself, and the wind roared back to life. But Shala was no longer falling. He had propelled himself away from the tree and was now soaring through the air like a winged-bird in mid-flight.

Shala locked his gaze on the deer and pulled the dagger back over his head. He would slice through the deer and roll away before his prey would even know there was danger. He would pass this test and any others that followed. He would make his father proud. He was a Sol. He was Shala. And I am a true hunter.

Chapter 2

The Bustling City

The city bustled with people going about their daily routine, adding a loud and hectic pace to the silent, motionless buildings that rose into the sky everywhere. The buildings were giants to an eight-year-old boy, harsh and gray against the blue, cloudless expanse beyond. Kortin looked up at these giants and thought maybe one day they really would come to life and use their long legs to walk out of the city, leaving behind all the bustling people with no where to bustle to.

Kortin had never been outside the walls of Rivel. He had been born here, his family was here, and with all likelihood this was where his life would always be. Unless of course he had his way.

There was so much of the world Kortin had only heard about but had never seen; the Sols to the West, the Naalym to the South, and not to mention the six other Realms of the Human race. His father had told him stories about the land to the North, but that was the beginning of Kurad country and not really anyplace Kortin wanted to visit. He might have to one day, though, if he followed in his father's footsteps and became a soldier in the Lord's army. But that life seemed hard.

Kortin only saw his father a couple times a year, and it was never for very long. But his father explained that someone had to defend Livinthia from the Shadow. Kortin always wondered why it had to be his father who did the defending, but he had never really understood the answer.

Today, Kortin was among the bustling crowds of the city with his brother. His older brother to be more exact. Tareth was three years older than Kortin and had blonde hair to Kortin's brown. Kortin had two sisters as well, both younger, but they were back home with their mother at the squalor living quarters the five of them tried to share. A soldier's life did not provide much in terms of compensation for a family, and even as young as he was, Kortin knew it. He could see the difference between his home and those of the kids who lived towards the center of the city. They had never gone days at a time without food as they watched their mother wait for the attendant from the Castle's Keep to bring the small coinpurse of gold that was their father's monthly wages.

During these times, Kortin always wondered why they needed the gold in the first place. Once they had the gold, his mother would spend it on items that vendors had brought into the city from outside the city walls. But if that was the case, Kortin thought it would be more logical just to go outside the walls and get the items themselves rather than pay someone else. But his mother told him it was dangerous to go outside the walls, and even if he did, she reminded him that he didn't know how to hunt or track or harvest crops. Kortin would always then ask himself why wasn't that what they were teaching him in school. But he didn't mention this to his mother because he knew how important she thought his education was.

Kortin and his brother weren't in school today though. Tareth had convinced Kortin that they needed the day off. This didn't happen very often, but it happened enough that Kortin had gotten used to it. He wasn't sure how Tareth did it, but before Kortin knew it, he was nodding his head and thinking what a great idea it was. Of course, he always felt guilty when they returned home and lied to their mother about the great day they'd had in school. But Tareth never seemed to have a problem with it, so Kortin tried not to either.

"Alright, so you know what to do if you see the Patrol, right?" Tareth was asking.

Kortin nodded. "Yep. Like this." Kortin put his hands to his mouth and tried to imitate the same bird call his brother had just shown him, but it came out more like an eight-year-old boy shouting at the top of his lungs than a bird call.

"Good enough," Tareth said, quickly taking Kortin by the arm to stop him from drawing anymore attention from the passersby. But then he smiled. "This is going to be fun. Be back before you know it."

Kortin watched his brother hurry out of the alley they had been hiding in and make his way along the side of the road towards the vendor's cart that was their target. The cart sold fruit and vegetables, and from the looks of the overweight, balding vendor manning the cart, this would be an easy job for Tareth. Kortin knew his brother was good at what he did, even though Kortin had never thought it was the right thing to be doing. But the idea of extra food in his belly always seemed to overrun any doubts he had.

Kortin watched his brother another moment before swiveling his head to make sure the City Patrol wasn't anywhere near. Rivel was one of the safest cities in the Seven Realms because of the strict punishments the Courts handed out to people who were caught committing a crime. It made Kortin wonder why he was always the lookout. With his height restriction, his vision was limited to about five feet in a crowd like this. But Tareth had never even come close to being caught before, so Kortin wasn't really worried.

Just in case though, Kortin looked around and noticed an overturned barrel nearby. He made his way over to it and began pulling himself up to help give him a better vantage point. He had only just reached the top, however, when suddenly a crash and commotion hit his ears.

He turned and saw Tareth sprinting towards him with an armful of stolen goods. Behind his brother, the vendor's cart lay sideways on the ground and the vendor himself was waving his arms frantically.

"Stop that kid! Someone stop him! Call the Patrol! Call the Patrol!"

Tareth reached Kortin out of breath. "Get off that thing! Run! Run!"

Kortin hesitated only a moment before jumping off the barrel. He hit the ground and fell, scrapping his hands and knees. But Tareth was already ahead of him, so he pushed himself off the ground and ran for his life.

The vendor was still screaming when Kortin followed Tareth into a alley. They ran through the long shadows of the buildings to either side and into the next street, which was just as busy. There, they paused briefly. Kortin looked up at his brother and saw a grin on Tareth's face.

"Why are you smiling?" Kortin demanded. "They're going to throw us in the dungeons for sure. How would we explain that to ma?"

"Oh please, like that old man will be able to catch us," Tareth laughed.

"Hey, you kids! Stop right there!"

The two brothers spun around just as the armored Patrol stepped into the far side of the alley.

"Don't move," the lead Patrol commanded.

Kortin glanced at his brother. Tareth no longer had a smile on his face, but Kortin knew his brother wasn't going to stay put.

"Here we go, Kort. Ready?"

Kortin nodded.

They both turned at the exact same time and ran. They heard the shouts and pursuit of the Patrol as they pushed their way across the crowded street to the other side. Tareth then led them around one corner and then another. Kortin followed, having no doubt that his brother would get them out of this with no trouble.

But suddenly, his brother was skidding to a stop. Kortin nearly ran into him as he stopped as well. And then he saw where they were. A dead end. His brother had led them down an alley that had no exit.

There was one door at the end of the alley, but try as he might, Tareth couldn't get it to budge. And for the first time, Kortin actually saw fear in his brother's eyes.

The entrance to the alley looked so far away from where they were. In the street, the crowd bustled by, lit brightly by the afternoon sun, but in the alley, they were trapped in the darkness of the shadows all around.

"What're we going to do?!" Kortin nearly shouted. "They'll be waiting for us right outside the alley! We're trapped!"

Tareth didn't respond for a moment, and that's when Kortin really got scared. But then Tareth turned to him and his smile was back, though there was still tension in his eyes. "Don't you worry about that. I'll take care of it."

Tareth immediately went over to an empty crate that was leaning against the side of the alley and began kicking it violently. Kortin watched, wondering if Tareth really had an idea or was just releasing his anger on this old crate. But when Tareth had finished destroying one whole side of the wooden crate, he stopped.

"Alright, Kort. Get down on the ground over here."

"What? Why?"

"Just do it, will ya?"

Kortin didn't like this one bit, but he complied to his brother's request.

"And take this." Tareth unloaded the fruits and vegetables he had stolen on the ground next to Kortin. "Tell mom at least she'll have one less mouth to feed for awhile."

Before Kortin could protest, his brother had already heaved the crate off the ground and set it down on top of Kortin. The broken side provided a perfect opening and suddenly Kortin was inside the crate looking through a small slit between the wooden boards. Then Tareth's face filled Kortin's vision.

"Be back before you know it, Kort." He had a grin on his face as he turned and ran off down the alley.

Kortin watched his brother go, thinking as he did maybe his brother would be able to evade the Patrol and get lost in the crowd. There was still that hope until Tareth reached the end of the alley.

Tareth was just entering the street when three of the men from the Patrol grabbed him and wrestled him roughly to the ground. Kortin watched in horror. He could hear his brother screaming and cursing as he tried to fight off the men, but of course, it was in vain. The Patrol shackled him right there at the end of the alley and dragged him through the dirt and out of sight.

Then there was just the bustling crowd. His brother was gone and that was it. People still flowed by in the street, still brightly lit by the afternoon sun, but Tareth was nowhere to be seen. The city had taken his brother. The city had dragged him away.

Kortin hung his head and let tears fill his eyes. As he wept in his hiding place under that crate, Kortin finally realized something with absolute certainty. Something he had felt for a long time, but only now was able to put into words as a definite statement of fact. I don't belong in the bustling city.

Chapter 3

Giving Up

Lasinna sat quietly in her teacher's study, waiting with her hands in her lap, wondering what he wanted to talk to her about. She couldn't think of anything she'd done wrong, but that didn't mean there wasn't something.

Books and scrolls and pieces of parchment filled most of the office along with a sturdy oak desk and matching chair just behind. The room was dark, lit only by a few candles and a small fireplace. Lasinna knew outside the sun was shining brightly on a beautiful day, but her teacher liked to keep his office dark. He always said it helped him concentrate.

Her teacher was the town's Mage. He taught all the kids, ages eight to fifteen. He was a good teacher, and he tended the town and its people as well as any Mage that had come before him, but after seven years, Lasinna was glad she was almost done with being his student. Mostly due to the fact that they didn't always get along.

Lasinna was not one to back down from an argument no matter what the topic, and sometimes it didn't even matter if she was right or not. She figured that's why she didn't have many friends, but that had never really bothered her. She had one true friend, and that's all she needed.

Lasinna thought of Owen as she sat there in her teacher's study. She'd been friends with Owen since the first day of school seven years ago when Mage Warnett had sat them next to each other. Socially, he was an outcast like her, so they had bonded quickly. His red hair, like fire, didn't match his mild, almost timid personality, but Lasinna had seen his passion for the world and for life. She knew her parents assumed one day they'd get married, and even in her own mind, Lasinna had pictured it on more than one occasion. But she also knew that was not the life she was going to live. She was going to become a Mystic.

In the world of Livinthia, the power of Magick ran through everything, including the beings who inhabited the land. For that reason, everyone could use Magick. Most Humans, however, never fully developed the ability to control Magick and could only touch the energy Magick created. For these Humans, Magick was like the air; they could feel it and see its effects and even create things like wind by waving their hands. But making the air become a tornado or changing it from hot to cold was beyond their ability. There were some Humans, however, that could take the Magick flowing through them and actually create with it. These Humans were called Mystics.

The door behind Lasinna opened, breaking into her thoughts. She tensed without meaning to as she heard her teacher shuffle past and around to the other side of the desk where his high-backed chair stood rigidly. He took his time sitting down and then sighed heavily once he was seated. He didn't speak immediately, and a moment extended in silence as Lasinna studied her teacher.

Mage Warnett was still young. He had been in charge of the town for eight years now, but his features were younger than any other Mage that Lasinna had seen. He hadn't yet acquired the grey hair and rounded belly that seemed always associated with the men of his position. He did wear the flowing robes that were a staple of any Mage, but he always choose more subdued colors than most. Probably because it matched his personality.

Finally, Mage Warnett spoke into the silence. "Do you know why I asked you here today, Lasinna?

As if instinctually, Lasinna blurted out, "I didn't do it."

"Didn't do what exactly?" her teacher questioned, leaning forward.

"I don't know. I thought I was in trouble," she answered.

He gave a soft chuckle. "It's not wise to always assume that you've done something wrong. Then if you actually do something wrong, it might not feel like you have."

"Okay," Lasinna answered as if she understood what he was saying. "But then why am I here?

"Good question," the Mage answered, leaning back again. "I wanted to talk to you about your plans once you finish your schooling."

This got Lasinna's attention. She knew exactly what her plans were. She was going to Isolan, the prestigious school of the Mystics, to learn the art of Magick. The only problem was in order to even be considered for acceptance into Isolan she would first have to spend another two years under the tutelage of Mage Warnett. She wasn't thrilled about that, but she would endure if it meant becoming a Mystic.

"I know you wish to become a Mystic," her teacher said, as if reading her thoughts. "Which would mean two years of further study as my student."

Lasinna nodded, trying to hide her excitement. Her mind raced as she realized why Mage Warnett had called her into his office. He was going to offer her the private courses in Mystic training. Only one other student in the last eight years had been offered this opportunity, and he had gone on to Isolan. Lasinna had heard, however, that he hadn't passed the final acceptance test to become a Mystic, so instead, he'd become a Scholar in the Hunath Realm. Lasinna knew she'd pass the test though. She wouldn't allow herself to fail.

"The studies are extensive," the Mage continued. "Every day would be filled with pouring over books and manuscripts and doing exactly what I say. You would learn to eat, breathe, and live Magick. There'd be no time for anything else."

Lasinna's heart pounded. She knew what these studies meant. She'd dreamed about this for as long as she could remember. She'd do anything to be given this chance.

"We have not always seen eye to eye on everything, Lasinna. Actually, very rarely do we agree on anything. But I have always given you high marks, and you have always impressed me with your learning. And in my mind, you have always been the one student I would offer the advanced studies to." Mage Warnett sighed again. "If only this was a perfect world."

The excitement rushing through Lasinna put a blinder over her comprehension, and she did not catch the meaning of her teacher's last statement. But as he continued, reality slowly dawned on the sixteen-year-old girl.

"Yesterday, I met with your parents and had a discussion about this very topic. I went to them explaining what my offer would entail for you and the opportunity it held. I told them how much you wanted this and how hard you had worked. I told them how much it meant to you. But your parents..."

Mage Warnett cleared his throat, hesitating momentarily before continuing.

"Your parents have other plans for what is best for you. They explained that with your sister's ailing condition and the state of your farm, they could not spare you to further schooling. They said that they needed you at home where you could be of more practical use. In short, they told me they would not consent to enrolling you in the advanced studies."

It took only a second for the weight of her teacher's words to drag Lasinna's heart to the ground. Her mind, for the first time that she could ever remember, went completely blank. All she could do was stare.

"I'm sorry, Lasinna. Like I said, if this was a perfect world, this conversation would be going very differently. But you must respect your parents' wishes. We both must. They know what is best for you. It might not seem like it now, but you are needed at home with your family. And there is nothing more important than family."

Still, all Lasinna could do was stare. She heard her teacher, but she couldn't understand what he was saying. She was underwater, floating through nothingness. Everything was murky and dark, and she couldn't breathe.

Her teacher spoke again. She saw his mouth move, but this time no sound came out at all. She didn't care what he was saying anyways. She had to get out of there. That's all she knew. She had to get out. So she ran.

She ran out of her teacher's office. She ran away from what he was saying. She burst out of the building and into the sunlight. The brightness blinded her as she ran.

She passed building after building of the small town. She passed people, who stared after her as she hurried on. She passed it all as she ran.

Then she saw the library up ahead. She just had to get around to the other side of it, and she'd be safe. There she could rest.

Her legs were tired as she reached the library and rounded the building, heading for the back. She turned the last corner and finally let her body stop. She finally let herself rest. She could rest because of who was waiting for her behind the library. Her one true friend sat in the shade of the building with a book open in his hands.

After a moment, Owen noticed he wasn't alone and took his eyes off his reading material. He looked up at her and must have seen the emotion in her face, for he stood quickly.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but she couldn't. She wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to scream and yell and cry about the misfortune that had unexpectedly befallen her; the injustice of it all. But that wasn't what she said. Instead, she swallowed her feelings and spoke simply.

"I have to leave."

"What do you mean?" he asked, stepping toward her.

"I'm running away." Her voice was steady, but she felt her mind tremble.

Owen looked at her, and Lasinna could see the understanding settle in his eyes. "He didn't offer you the advanced studies."

"It doesn't matter," Lasinna replied quickly.

"But they won't let you into Isolan unless you've had teachings with a Mage."

"They will if I pass the acceptance test."

"And how are you going to do that?" he questioned. "I know you're smart, Lasinna, but this seems crazy even for you."

Lasinna knew it was crazy, but that wasn't going to stop her. "I'll figure something out along the way. I just know I have to go."

Owen nodded. He took a moment, letting his eyes fall to the ground before returning them to her. "Then I'm going with you."

Lasinna knew this had been coming. She knew Owen would want to go with her. "But you can't."

"Why not?" he asked, defiantly. "Why do you get to decide?"

"Because you don't really want to." Owen opened his mouth to argue, but she talked over him. "You only want to go because I'm going. But that's not a reason. I won't allow you to travel halfway across the lands just because of me. I have to do this. You don't."

"But I..." Owen's voice trailed off as their gazes met. She realized, staring into his eyes, that she hadn't been the only one to have pictured their future together. A future that was drifting farther away with every passing second.

"I have to do this," she said again, feeling a hallowness settle in her heart that she knew would be there for many years to come.

"I don't understand," Owen said, dropping his gaze.

"I know it's hard."

"It doesn't seem so hard for you," he replied with resentment in his voice.

Lasinna stepped closer to him and reached out, taking his hand in hers. "It is hard for me. But I made this decision a long time ago."

He looked up at her, and she could see the sadness in his face that she had buried deep within herself. "I guess this is goodbye," he said quietly, pulling his hand away.

Then she watched the redheaded boy of her childhood turn around without another word. He didn't run, he didn't look back, he just walked around the corner and was gone. And then she was alone.

She had known her decision would be hard. She'd known that from the start. But she had also always known what she wanted to do with her life and that it would require sacrifices to reach it. Some of those sacrifices would be harder than others, but she would stick to her decision. She would stick to her choice. I'd give up everything to become a Mystic.

Chapter 4

Looking Ahead

Fyn couldn't believe he was late. Of all the mornings to be late, this was undoubtedly the worst. He had been so excited the night before his eyes had barely closed for a second, and then when they had closed, they hadn't opened again until well past the time he should have already been up. And now he was running. He was running as fast as his little legs would carry him. Unfortunately for Fyn, he was a Naalym. And Naalyms had never been known to be particularly fast runners.

In the world of Livinthia, where strange and wondrous creatures flourished, the Naalyms were a very particular being indeed. They were one of the Four Races, but long ago, their kind went into hiding, disappearing from the lands they once loved. Now, they could only be found in the Tall-Grass Hills of Rolath, a region to the Southwest near the sea. But even those who knew where to look had a hard time finding these free-spirited, little creatures, for Naalyms didn't live on the surface. Their homes could only be found under the ground.

Fyn, in fact, had never been to the surface. The tunnels and burrows of the Naalyms were so extensive they ran for miles in every direction and provided a home for the whole community. It was an underground city, scaled to match the unique dimensions of the Naalyms.

Like most of his kind, Fyn would never break the height of four feet and would never be narrower than three feet. Not to say that Naalyms were fat; they were just wide. They also had rather large heads, but their feet, on the other hand, were, strangely enough, usually long and skinny. If Fyn was above ground and out in the open, he would use his uniquely shaped feet to launch himself into the air and bound through the Tall-Grass Hills of Rolath, like a child skipping across a playground.

But Fyn wasn't outside. He was making his way down one of the main tunnels, which, though larger than most, did not provide enough room to bound. And so he had to run. But running for a Naalym, with their short, stubby legs and big, skinny feet, meant Fyn was actually just wobbling back-and-forth as fast as he could.

Over the years, Naalyms had become adept at maneuvering through their tunnels with a fair bit of efficiency, but they were meant to be out in the open. They were meant to bound through the air and enjoy the sun and wind. That's why it saddened most who still knew the history of the Naalyms and how they came to live under the ground.

Fyn had learned some of his kind's past, but he was still young. His hair, in fact, had just stopped growing two weeks before, which, for a Naalym, was a very special occasion. It meant Fyn was maturing and entering the second stage of his life. Usually, Naalyms didn't reach their maximum size until well into their thirties, so their hair, instead, was how they judged the growth and maturity of their children.

Fyn, currently, was only about two feet tall, but his hair hung to his ankles, so he kept his chin high as he passed other Naalyms going about their day. The color of Fyn's hair was still green, but it would become brown next, then red, and then black when he was finally fully grown. After that, only the color of gray awaited him. Some Humans, who had studied these fairytale creatures, thought Magick might even be involved with a Naalym's hair, for though it had been at least three days since Fyn had last listened to his mother and taken a bath, every strand still remained perfectly in place.

Of course, Fyn knew Magick wasn't involved in his hair; it was just hair. But that being said, Fyn hadn't actually started learning Magick yet. He was excited to learn though, for Naalyms had their very own type of Magick, which varied greatly from the Spellcasting Magick of the Humans and the Storing Magick of the Sols. The Naalyms used the type of Magick known as Enhancing the Elements. This meant that they could control, to a certain extent, five of the six elements: Earth, Wind, Fire, Water, and Light. Since they had gone into hiding, though, Naalyms never used their powers to attack, only to defend. Fyn didn't have a problem with that; he'd never want to hurt anything anyways.

He rounded a bend in the tunnel, hardly noticing the Magick that was in work all around him. These tunnels were at least thirty feet below the surface, but they weren't dark. The Elders of Fyn's community were using the element of Light to provide visibility throughout the whole burrow. And the tunnels themselves didn't look like the tunnels that some prairie dog would've made. The element of Earth had been used to create these tunnels and had packed the dirt so tight along the sides that it was more like Fyn was walking down a hallway of stone walls than a passageway through the ground.

But of course, at the moment, Fyn was too busy being late to worry about any of this. He was so focused on hurrying that he turned the next corner at full speed and nearly ran headlong into one of his friends. Luckily, they just barely managed to miss each other, but that didn't mean they could avoid getting their feet tangled.

"Watch where you're going, Stybs," Fyn jeered, hanging onto his friend for support.

"Me? You watch where you're going," Stybs shot back, hanging onto Fyn for support.

Fyn pulled his feet free and grinned. "Aren't you late?"

"Not as late as you," Stybs grinned back.

Then they were both off again, running down the next tunnel together. The two young Naalyms tried their best to maneuver through the adults filling the tunnel, but they did get a few angry looks along the way.

"Why are we even hurrying?" Stybs shouted to Fyn as they entered another tunnel. "They won't start without a child of the 3rd Family."

"Youngest child," Fyn corrected him. "And it's Teacher Hyln. Do you think he cares if I'm not there?"

"Good point," Stybs agreed. "Why does he always have it in for you?"

Fyn tried to shrug as he maneuvered past a group of adults. "You should ask him for me."

"Yeah, I'll do that when we have Talons as pets."

Fyn laughed as they climbed the last incline into the Upper Chamber and slid to a stop. The rest of their class was already there, and they all turned when Fyn and Stybs made their entrance. Teacher Hyln was there as well, and he did not look pleased. Fyn shared a worried glance with Stybs as they both tried to catch their breath.

"Good of the two of you to join us," Teacher Hyln announced, walking over to them. "Your tardiness made me think you did not want to partake in today's lesson. Of course, I can still arrange for you to stay behind."

"No, please, we're here," Fyn argued before he could stop himself.

Teacher Hyln looked each of them over for a moment before saying, "I expect the both of you to be on your best behavior. I assume you realize this is your last warning."

Fyn and Stybs nodded in unison.

"Then join your classmates. We are about to leave."

Teacher Hyln turned away, and Fyn hurried over with Stybs to join the rest of their class. "That was close," Stybs whispered.

"Too close," Fyn returned.

Soon, Teacher Hyln was leading Fyn and the rest of the students out of the Upper Chamber and along a narrow tunnel that climbed further upwards. As they went, Fyn felt the excitement rising in his chest. It steadily built and built like a drumroll, beating on the inside of his ribcage. He couldn't keep the grin off his face, and whenever he glanced at Stybs, he could tell his friend couldn't either.

Then up ahead, Fyn saw the brightness. A blinding hole that made the light of the tunnels seem dark. Teacher Hyln disappeared into the opening first, then several students in front did as well. But finally, it was Fyn's turn. He shared one more look with Stybs before passing into the white light.

And finally, for the first time in his life, Fyn stepped outside. He stepped into the sunlight. He stepped out of the ground and into the air. Of course, he couldn't see anything at first. The blinding light continued as his eyes slowly adjusted. He had to shade his eyes, and he saw his classmates doing the same.

Two or three minutes passed before Fyn could really take in his surroundings. But he didn't need to see to feel what it was like to be outside. The wind was the first thing he noticed. It caressed his face and brought such a sweet, lovely smell to his nose that he just wanted to breathe in forever and never exhale. He felt the wind stir his hair and whisper through the tall grass around him. The grass swayed back and forth, rising over his head, green against the blue sky far above. It actually made Fyn dizzy to look up at the sky for the first time. He had to drop his eyes back to the ground just to regain his balance.

After another moment, Fyn looked back at the small opening they had come out of. It was tiny really, slightly hidden in the grass on the side of a hill. If he hadn't known there was a whole city through that opening, he would never have guessed. He knew there were several openings like this one spread throughout Rolath, but they were probably just as hidden and secret.

Then Fyn noticed several other adults in the area besides Teacher Hyln. They bounded through the grass, using one foot at a time to propel themselves just high enough for their heads to clear the top of the grass so they could look around and view the area.

Fyn didn't need an invitation. He took one step and pushed off with his foot. He felt the wind hit his face as he soared through the sky for the distance of three feet before landing again. It was a somewhat awkward landing, but he didn't care if he had fallen flat on his face; he was already pushing off again. He was laughing the whole time until he hit the ground again and felt a strong hand grip his arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" Teacher Hyln asked harshly. "You stay with the rest of the class or I'll have words with you when we get back inside. Do you understand me?"

Fyn nodded quickly, not even realizing that he had been doing something wrong. But then he looked back over his shoulder and saw that he could barely see the rest of his classmates through the grass. He had moved very far, very fast, and it was the best thing in the world.

Unfortunately, Teacher Hyln didn't let him bound again and kept a hand on Fyn as they walked back to the class. When they returned, Fyn went over to stand next to Stybs, who gave him a big grin. Fyn couldn't help but grin back. Then Teacher Hyln began talking.

"You all know the tunnels of our dear burrow underneath the Hills, but today, I wanted to show you the world outside of those tunnels. I wanted to show you the surface of Rolath. There are many dangers on the surface; many dangers that look upon young children like you as food. Therefore, you must always be wary of your surroundings and on the look out for the animals we share this land with. And until you have passed the courses of Magick, you are not allowed outside the tunnels without an adult. Of course, even then it can be dangerous. Fortunately, today, I have been told that it is clear for many miles, so we will chance going a little higher and letting you have a better look."

As soon as Teacher Hyln had finished, he began steering the class up the slope of the nearest hill, towards the summit. Fyn tried to control his excitement as best he could, but it took a considerable amount of effort. He wanted to bound ahead and reach the top first, but he knew he should wait. He knew it would be better to be patient. He knew it would be worth it. And it was.

At the top of the hill, the grass was shorter, and there were a few rocks and boulders laying here and there. Following Teacher Hyln's lead, Fyn and his classmates climbed onto the rocks, so they could see above the grass. And then Fyn saw the world.

He saw the land stretching out before him and behind him and to either side. He saw it stretching into the distance on every side. The hills rolled away forever; the grass even farther. The wind swept across the land, swaying everything to its silent song. The sky above met the land below, forming a line at the edge of infinity. Fyn took it all in; the sounds and the colors, the warmth and the chill, the beauty and the possibilities. He took it all in. He took it all in with a smile on his face. This world is going to be one great adventure.

Chapter 5

One Day

Shala's quarter staff blurred in his hands as he twirled and spun, defending and attacking. His father moved before him fast and strong, showing him no mercy. The exertion thrilled Shala, but a true hunter gave away nothing; nothing that could be used as an advantage by an opponent. And Shala knew that anything could be used as an advantage. He even tried to hide the fact that he was sweating, but with his father pushing him to his limit, that was easier said than done.

It had been a week since Shala had killed the deer, and though he was now considered an adult, that didn't mean he was given any extra privileges. In truth, he had been working even harder ever since.

After killing the deer, Shala had carried the burden of the dead carcass back to his village where those who had watched him complete his task were waiting. And like Shala had assumed, his father was one of that group.

He recognized his father instantly with his dark orange fur and two curved daggers hanging from each hip. Shala's father was tall even for a Sol and carried himself in a proud, almost regal, manner. The Sols, in general, were a proud kind, but Shala's father was the alpha of the tribe, which meant he was in charge. Sols didn't have lords or rulers; they had one male who had proven himself to be capable of leading the tribe. One day Shala would be expected to take his father's place as the leader of their village. But only if I can prove myself.

Shala had seen his father many times during his life, but the day he'd killed the deer was the first time his father had looked him in the eye. And then what had happened next Shala knew he'd always remember. His father had walked forward, taken the burden of the deer off Shala's shoulders, and then had embraced him. It was a brief moment, but Shala would never forget it.

After that day, his father had taken over all of his training. Shala was glad to be spending time with his father, but that didn't mean they ever talked very much. Of course, Shala had expected nothing less. We are Sols, not those childish, fairy folk of Rolath.

Shala and his father worked from dawn till dusk, and sometimes from dusk till dawn, on everything from fighting techniques and weapon play to Magick usage and even tracking and hunting. Shala already knew how to survive in the wild, but now he was learning how to become a part of the wild. That way when the need arose, and it would, he'd be able to fight in the wild. He was a true hunter; the next step was becoming a true warrior of the Sols. A warrior of the Filan to be more exact.

There were actually two types of Sols in the world of Livinthia. Those of the Palagric Forest were known as Filan, while those of the Grey Mountains called themselves Pheela. They shared many similar characteristics, but they could be told apart even by an untrained eye.

The Filan had adapted to the warmer climate of the forest by having thinner fur, and with the amount of vegetation in their habitat, their coats tended to be colored in shades of green, brown, orange, and even red. Also, they were usually leaner than their relatives to the North, but this made them more agile and better climbers.

The Pheela, in contrast, had matched the cold, harsh mountain peeks of their home with heavier, more muscular builds covered in darker, thicker fur that kept them warm in the frigid temperatures of the higher altitude. Their demeanor was also more reclusive and more hostile to outsiders than even the Filan, who had never been known to be the most welcoming.

Shala knew about the Pheela. He knew them all to well. They were the reason he had to train. They were the reason he had to be ready to hunt and to kill even as young as he was. They were the enemy of all Filan. And to Shala's knowledge, that's how it had always been and that's how it was always going to stay.

With that being said, Shala had yet to see a Pheela. But everyday he expected to find one around the next tree. That's what he had been taught since he was a youngling, and he knew he wouldn't become a true warrior until he took the life of a Pheela. Because of that fact, Shala had once hoped he wouldn't just stumble upon a Pheela out in the forest; that would be too easy. He wanted to go hunt one in the Grey Mountains and take his enemy's life where his enemy called home. That's how he wanted to pass that test. I do not want to be cheated of my kill.

But things had changed since Shala had killed the deer. He'd never taken a life before that day, and the weight of what he had done still hung heavily across his shoulders. He wasn't sure now if he would be able to kill again, especially if it was killing another Sol. But if I can't kill, what is the point of my life?

That was on the back of Shala's mind as he dodged a swinging attack from his father. The quarter staff whistled through the air just above Shala's head as he flowed into his next stance, turning the weapon in his hands before striking out for his father's chest. But his father was too quick and deflected the attack easily before countering in the same motion. The move caught Shala off-guard, and his father's quarter staff slammed into the back of his leg. Shala lost his feet and another blow to the torso sent him crashing to the ground.

The impact exploded the air from his lungs, leaving him unable to breathe. But he ignored the pain and rolled away, jumping back to his feet in a flash. He held his weapon at the ready, prepared for another attack. He'd learned his lesson the first day of his father's training that just because he'd gotten knocked to the ground did not mean the fight was over. But this time, Shala's father merely stood there still with one end of his staff in the dirt.

"Yous are distracted."

Shala looked at his father, hearing the unspoken question in his voice. "The Pheela," was all Shala said, dropping his guard slightly.

A soft growl rose from his father's throat, but it was silenced quickly. "They trouble yous?"

"Why do we have to fights them?"

His father studied him, and for a moment, Shala thought maybe he had asked a stupid question. But then his father continued, "What did yous feel after you killeds the deer?"

Shala knew the answer to that; he thought of it often. "Sadness."

His father nodded. "And now yous don't know if you can kills again."

Shala looked up, hoping his father wouldn't be disappointed in him.

But his father did not look displeased and merely turned his head away thoughtfully. "I felts the same after my first kill. Most do. It's what separates us from those of the Shadow. Remorse," he finished quietly.

A full minute passed as Shala waited for his father to continue. He waited for his father to tell him how to get over this feeling. He waited to hear how the Pheela were the enemy, so it was okay to kill them. He waited to hear how he wouldn't feel this sadness and pain after every kill. He waited to hear that everything would be okay.

But instead, his father turned back to him and said, "Yous have a duty, my son. A duty that will bring sadness as surely as thunder brings the rains. But yous must fulfill your duty because your people need you to. In war, yous cannot hope for peace, you have to fights for it."

Shala didn't want to, but he understood what his father was saying. He might not want to kill, but he had to. The Pheela weren't going to spare his life just because he wanted to spare theirs. His people weren't going to be spared just because he wished for peace. This war was his life, and he had to live it. "For my people, I will bear the sadness, father."

His father nodded. "I hope one day yous won't have to. But until then..." Shala's father lifted his weapon. "We must continue."

And that was the end of their talk. They began their training again, and Shala fought with all of his focus. Or at least, he tried to. But his mind lingered on their conversation. He would kill, but only if he had to. He would kill, but he'd never give up the hope that one day he wouldn't have to. One day, maybe I will be the Sol that brings peace to these land.

Chapter 6

Appearance

The shadows of the city were long across the ground as Kortin and his mother made their way through the streets towards the Keep. Kortin stayed close to his mother even though the crowds of the city had begun to lessen by this time of day. They were going to the Keep on an important errand. They were going to release Tareth from the dungeons.

It had been an excruciatingly slow seven days since Kortin had watched his brother get taken by the City Patrol. They had thrown Tareth behind bars and would only release him when the full charges of the damages had been paid. Unfortunately, Kortin's mother couldn't afford the fee until the next wages from his father had come in. And that had only happened a couple hours ago.

Kortin's sisters were back home, being watched by a neighbor. Kortin's mother had wanted him to stay home as well, but Kortin had waited long enough to see his brother. Even when his mother insisted, he hadn't taken no for an answer. Kortin still felt like it was his fault that his brother had been thrown in the dungeons, so he hoped seeing Tareth finally set free would help ease some of his guilt.

After getting out from under the crate, Kortin had headed home. But that walk had been the longest of his life. He'd never before felt so lonely. There were people filling the streets in every direction, but they seemed so far away. His mind told him to go home, but his feet took him to the nearest main gate leading out of the city. Then he had just stood there in the middle of the street, watching as people walked past him, going in and out of the gate, traveling along the dirt path that ran away to the trees in the distance. Standing there, Kortin thought about leaving the city and disappearing into those trees. They looked so peaceful there in the distance, swaying in the breeze that shook their branches. He could leave everything behind if he just walked through the gate and out into the world beyond.

But Kortin knew he couldn't just leave everything behind. He would leave the city one day, but it wouldn't be today. He couldn't leave just because he didn't want to face what he needed to do. What I have to do. So he turned around and walked home.

The next thing Kortin remembered was standing outside the door of the living quarters he called home, hesitating to go inside. He remembered his arm being unusually heavy as he lifted it and turned the doorknob. Everything was moving very slowly; the door took forever to swing open. But once he finally walked inside, things jumped forward in a blur.

One moment, his mother was asking him why Tareth wasn't home yet, and the next, he was telling her everything. And not just about today and Tareth's arrest, but about all the times they had missed school and all the bad things they had done. And of course, his mother had been furious. She had scolded him in a voice that was just barely below a scream. He had wanted to run and hide in a corner, but he couldn't stop himself from looking at his mother. Because even though her words were harsh, Kortin saw the tears in her eyes.

His mother had gone immediately to the Keep to try and release Tareth, but it had been to no avail. When she returned, Kortin had been afraid to come out of his room to meet her. She'd finally called him to her and explained the situation. Kortin listened, but as he heard his mother talk, he realized she looked different than any other time he had seen her before. She was still his mom, of course, but for the first time, he saw the wrinkles on her face. He saw that she had wisps of grey hair just above her ears. He could tell she was tired. There were dark circles under her eyes that he'd never noticed before. For the first time, he was seeing her as a person and not just his mother. He didn't know what it meant, but the trees outside the main gate seemed more inviting than ever.

For the rest of the week, Kortin had been on his best behavior, helping his mother whenever he could, until finally the page had come with the coin purse. There was enough money to get Tareth out but not much more. Kortin wanted to ask what they'd do until the next wages came in, but he decided against bringing up that concern; he didn't think his mother would have the answer anyways.

Now, a short time later, Kortin and his mother were approaching the Keep, which loomed large in front of them, blocking the sun and throwing a dark shadow over the street. The Keep was a separate building from the Lord's Castle, and Kortin had always thought that while the Castle looked glamorous, the Keep looked almost sinister. But that could've just been because Tareth used to tell him horror stories about the place and the prisoners inside. Whether those stories were true or not, Kortin wasn't going to take any chances and hung tight to his mother's hand.

There were guards outside the main doors of the Keep, but they merely watched Kortin and his mother pass without hindering them. Once inside, the place was brighter, lit by lines of torches along the walls. On the far side of the entry room was a huge oak desk that Kortin thought must be far too big for any normal Human. And indeed, the man sitting behind it was certainly no normal-sized person. His shoulders seemed wider than Kortin was tall, and the long, jagged scar crossing his cheek didn't make him look exactly Human either. The man looked at Kortin, and the young boy hid farther behind his mother.

The man gave a raspy chuckle before turning his attention on Kortin's mother. "What can I do for you?"

"We're here for my son. Tareth Mortaque," Kortin's mother answered.

The man's focus lingered on her a moment longer before he opened the thick book before him and turned the old pages, scanning the names written inside. "Let's see. Mortaque," he said to himself, running a finger along the page. Finally, he stopped. "Here it is." He glanced back up at Kortin's mother. "Did you bring his fines?"

His mother nodded, pulling out the leather pouch that contained the precious gold. Kortin had heard the steadiness of his mother's voice, but now that she tried to open the pouch, he noticed that her hands shook. But she moved quickly and counted out the amount, setting it on the book in front of the big man. The coin purse was now nearly empty.

The man's hand dwarfed the coins as he gathered them up and counted them himself. Then he looked at Kortin's mother. "You're a little short, lady."

Kortin felt his mother tense. "No, that's the right amount. They said that's how much we had to pay for the damages."

"Well, this might cover the damages, but the boy's been in here a week. There's the cost of his food, bedding, water; the list goes on."

Kortin still held his mother, and though he couldn't feel anything physically change, he suddenly couldn't feel her strength. "We don't..." She didn't even finish her sentence.

Kortin looked up at his mother, but she had her face turned away from him. He squeezed her tighter, afraid that she'd slip away from his grasp.

The big man behind the desk studied the two of them. Then he said, "Just give me whatever you can, and we'll call it squared."

Kortin felt his mother nod, but he kept his eyes on the big man. The man's appearance was as close to a monster's Kortin had ever seen, but this man was actually trying to help them. He sure doesn't act like some evil creature.

Kortin's mother dropped the coin purse on the table, but the man didn't even look inside. Instead, he gestured to a soldier standing across the room next to an ironclad door.

"Take them in. They're getting the kid in cell fifteen."

The soldier by the door nodded and pulled out a ring of large, brass keys. As he unlocked the door, Kortin's mother looked back at the big man behind the desk. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Just go get your son," he answered, returning to his work.

Kortin let his mother turn him away, and they followed the soldier through the ironclad door and into the hallway beyond. They walked through several hallways where other soldiers were going about their business and down a narrow flight of stairs before coming to a another locked door. On the other side of this one, everything was much darker. Only a few torches lit the whole space, and Kortin realized immediately this was where Tareth was being held.

Kortin's mother paused in the doorway of the cell room and looked at her son. "You should wait here, Kortin. I don't want you to see this."

Kortin nodded. His mother touched him on the cheek gently before turning around and following the soldier into the room. Kortin waited all of two seconds before falling into step right behind his mother. He figured this wasn't the place to argue with her, so he'd just told her what she had wanted to hear. His mother might not want him to see this, but he was going to be there when his brother was let out. Just try to stop me.

With his mother just before him, Kortin walked past the line of cells to either side. He stared into the darkness of each one, looking at the people behind the bars. Some just watched him pass with vague, distant looks in their eyes, while others sneered or even smiled at him. All of it sent a chill down Kortin's spine.

Then his mother was stopping, and Kortin had to sidestep so as not to run into her. The soldier was already moving to unlock the door of cell fifteen, and Kortin looked forward, eager to see his brother again. But Kortin could only see an old man behind the bars of this cell. The old man looked at him with bright blue eyes set deep in a face that had a long white beard flowing down from it. Out of everyone Kortin had seen so far, this feeble old man actually looked somewhat pleasant. Not in his appearance necessarily, but Kortin could see kindness in his eyes.

The soldier finished unlocking the cell door and swung it open. "Com'n kid. Your mother's here."

And that's when Kortin finally saw his brother. He was curled in a ball in the corner, covered in dirt and straw. He looked half starved, and he stood slowly as if he didn't have enough energy to move quickly. Kortin's mother immediately ran into the cell and threw her arms around Tareth. But Tareth didn't respond to the affection at first. He just stood there as his mother cried into his chest. Kortin, meanwhile, just watched, not really sure what he should do. His mother finally pulled away from Tareth and took his hand.

"Let's go home, sweetie."

Tareth still didn't respond as his eyes looked off at nothing. His mother began leading him out of the cell, and he followed obediently. But as they passed the old man, he grabbed Tareth by the shoulder. Tareth's eyes turned towards the old man, who said, "Don't forget what I told you, boy."

Tareth nodded with an unreadable expression on his face. Kortin wondered what the old man was talking about, but it didn't seem important right now. Kortin's mother led Tareth the rest of the way out of the cell, and Kortin finally walked up to his brother. He stopped in front of Tareth as their mother watched, having obviously forgotten that she had told Kortin to stay behind.

Kortin had so many things he wanted to say to his brother. He wanted to tell him he was sorry, and he'd never let anything like this ever happen again. He wanted to tell him how much he'd missed him and how he wished there'd been a way to release him sooner. But Kortin couldn't get any of it out. He just looked up at his older brother.

Tareth's eyes seemed to have cleared since he'd stepped out of the cell, and now, he actually looked at Kortin. But as Kortin watched his brother, he realized something. Something that he didn't want to realize. Just like a week ago when Kortin had seen for the first time that his mother was more than just his mother. As he looked at Tareth, Kortin saw more than just his brother. There was a difference in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Only a week had gone by, but Kortin could see it already. Everything's going to be different.

Chapter 7

Family

Lasinna stared at the woods before her, wondering what lay hidden in the shadows of the great trees. She'd played in these woods when she was younger; she and Owen had explored as far as the foothills to the South. But those days of youthful innocence were definitely behind her at this point. Were they ever ahead of me?

A week had passed since she'd decided to run away from home because Mage Warnett had told her she wouldn't be accepted into his advanced studies of Magick. But after seven days, this was as far as she'd gotten, to the edge of the woods at the edge of her family's farm. Lasinna knew if she turned around she would see the farmhouse she'd grown up in, but Lasinna had already decided she wasn't going to turn around. Not now.

It was early in the morning, and her family still slept soundly in their beds, unaware that she was on the verge of leaving them forever. Lasinna knew this was a big moment in her life, and she was making it before the sun was even up yet. Am I crazy?

Lasinna had asked herself that question more than once over the last week, and now she wondered if she was asking herself it too often. Maybe I'm making myself crazy by asking that question. Or maybe I'm already crazy and that's why I'm asking it.

These kind of doubts were one of the reasons she hadn't left sooner. She'd planned on taking one day to pack, one day to plan her trip and where she'd stay along the way, and on the third day, she'd be out the door. But four extra days later and she was just getting on the road.

That wasn't entirely her fault though. A few things had happened that were beyond her control. For one, she'd had a talk with her parents, which hadn't gone so well.

"We heard from Mage Warnett that he spoke to you about your future," her father had started. He was sitting next to Lasinna on her bed, while her mother watched from the doorway.

Lasinna had nodded.

"I know you must be disappointed," her father continued.

Lasinna nodded again.

"But you must understand that we are just thinking about what's best for you, and what's best for this family."

Lasinna tried to nod again, but her body refused.

"Sometimes you have to be practical, Lasinna. Life isn't always what you want it to be. I know that's not what you want to hear, but believe us when we tell you, this is the best path for you."

Lasinna felt her hands clinch in her lap.

"We both know how smart you are, and Mage Warnett told us of your talent. But you could spend the next ten years of your life chasing a dream and wind up stocking books in some archives up in Dunafel instead of here with your family where you'll be happy."

That was all Lasinna could take. She finally turned her head and looked at her father. "If that's what you think, father, then you don't know me from a piece of cow dung."

Obviously, her parents had not been happy. Her father had started yelling, and her mother had just stood there with a face full of disappointment. Lasinna hadn't kept quiet herself, but that didn't help matters. After it was all done and her parents had stormed out, Lasinna was sentenced to confinement in her room for the next month, except to do chores. That made it a bit harder to prepare for her departure. But if her sixteen years had taught her one thing, it was how to sneak out of her room after dark. She'd had to learn while sharing a room with her sister, but she didn't have to worry about that any longer. Now it's just a walk on the wind.

Her sister, in fact, had been the other thing to delay her departure. Lasinna actually had two sisters, one older and one younger, but the older had already married and moved away. She was her parents' favorite by far. Beautiful Maria. She was always doing the right thing, always following the rules. She'd married the son of a prominent farmer from the next town over, and every month she'd send money to help with the farm as well as dresses for Lasinna and her other sister. Lasinna wouldn't have worn dresses if she wasn't forced to, so having her sister send her more was just irritating. Does no one understand me?

She knew one person did at least. Actually, there were two if she counted Owen, but she hadn't spoken to him, or even seen him, since behind the library that day, so now she was down to one. And that one was her younger sister, Delphina.

Lasinna loved her younger sister more than anyone else, but Delphi wasn't well. She'd never been well. Lasinna could only remember a few days her whole life when Delphi had been able to go outside and play, when she'd been able to have a normal life, a normal childhood. Now Delphi was practically resigned to her bed day and night. But Lasinna could still see a spirit in her sister's eyes that she hardly saw in most healthy people.

After her parents came to talk to her, Lasinna had, of course, gone to see her sister; she always did whenever her parents were being hard on her. Delphi's room was right next to Lasinna's, so it wasn't hard to slip inside without her parents knowing. Lasinna had actually liked it more when they used to share a room, but since Maria had moved out, Delphi had been able to get her own room. Lasinna knew it was for the best because Delphi needed her rest, constantly. That's why Lasinna had become an expert on sneaking out at night. It wasn't that Delphi would ever tell on her; Lasinna just didn't want to wake her.

Sneaking silently into her sister's room, Lasinna hoped Delphi wasn't asleep, for she needed someone to talk to. The room was dark, as usual, except for a single ray of light streaming in through the open drapes of the only window. Delphi had insisted that her bed be positioned near the window, so she could look out at the world, even if she couldn't go out and enjoy it.

As Lasinna came into the room, she stopped just inside the door and watched her sister laying there with her head turned towards the window. It bothered Lasinna that her sister was in such condition. There was so much life in Delphi, but it was trapped behind this wall that no one could break through. The previous Mage of the town had tried when Delphi had first started showing signs that there was something wrong with her, but he hadn't been able to do anything except prescribe a few remedies that he thought would help. They hadn't. Then Mage Warnett had come along, and for the first couple years, he really had done all he could. He'd even managed to bring in an actual Mystic, who had been traveling through Roaf at the time. The Mystic spent a whole day studying Delphi, but even though this Mystic was a specialist in Healing, she couldn't find the source of Delphi's ailment. Like all Mystics, if they don't know what's wrong or if they've never studied how to Heal a particular problem, then all their powers are for not. So Delphi remained sick.

Lasinna was still standing by the door when Delphi turned her head away from the window and looked at her.

"You don't seem happy to see me," she started.

Lasinna gave a small smile. "I never will be until I see you get out of that bed."

"Well, that's why you're going off to Isolan, right? To find a cure, so we can travel the world together."

Lasinna had to drop her eyes. "Delphi, there's something I should tell you."

"What? That our parents won't let you become a Mystic because of me." Lasinna glanced up at her sister. "Just because I'm stuck in this bed doesn't mean I don't know what's going on," Delphi continued. "But in this case, I think even the people in town heard the three of you just now."

"Oh, sorry," Lasinna said quietly.

"Don't be. I'm glad you did. You should stand up for yourself. And anyways, you're not going to listen to them, right?"

"I should," Lasinna answered walking over to her sister's bed. "You need me here."

"I don't need anything," Delphi said, sitting up. "All I do is lay around here all day. And soon I probably won't even be doing that."

Lasinna sat down next to Delphi and took her hand. "Don't say that. You're going to be around for a long time."

"I will. But only if you leave. You have to go to Isolan and study Magick. That's you're path."

Lasinna nodded reluctantly, knowing her sister was right. "I wish you could come with me."

"One day, Lasinna. When you come back as a Mystic, you'll Heal me, and then we'll go together."

Lasinna could picture it so clearly as she sat there with her sister. She saw herself traveling to Isolan. She saw herself passing the acceptance test and being the top of her class. She saw herself riding back to her family and saving her sister and showing her parents that they had been wrong. It was all so clear.

But now, however, as Lasinna stood at the edge of the woods looking into the dark shadows of the trees, she had trouble picturing any of those things. They seemed far away, out of reach for a small farm girl from some tiny village in the middle of nowhere. But she felt this was the right path; she could almost see it stretching out before her. Whatever happened, she knew she was making the right choice.

Lasinna started walking. She walked forward into the woods and didn't look back. She couldn't. She couldn't look back because she knew if she did, she'd see her sister's face looking out the window. I can't look back. Not yet.

Chapter 8

Company

Fyn had a smile on his face as he hurried down the narrow tunnel that led to his family's burrow. He'd never been this happy before, which was saying something because Fyn was usually happy. But the experience of going outside and seeing the world for the first time had changed him. He didn't think he'd ever stop smiling now that he knew what lay just above his head. Why do we live down here when the surface is so amazing?

Fyn was wondering this as he entered the burrow and found his family-brother in the kitchen. His family-brother was his actual brother unlike the other young males of the community which Fyn would just call brothers. In this same line of thinking, Fyn had four family-sisters as well as a family-mother and father, but he had countless sisters and every adult in the community was considered a mother or father to Fyn. Naalyms found family to be a very important part of life, so the whole community took part in raising every young pup.

Fyn's family-brother was Martys, short for Martysithia. He was in the kitchen, preparing food on the heat rock, and didn't appear to notice that Fyn had come through the opening.

"Guess what I did today, Martys," Fyn greeted his family-brother excitedly.

Martys barely seemed to come out of his own thoughts as he glanced over his shoulder. "What's that?"

Fyn jumped atop one of the nearby stools and said triumphantly, "I went outside today!"

His family-brother finally turned completely around. "Oh yeah. Well, what did you think?"

"It was amazing!" Fyn beamed. "I can't wait to go back."

"Yeah, that's how I felt too," Martys replied, though his expression still remained rather solemn. He turned back to his food as he continued, "But I wouldn't get too excited; you'll be stuck in these tunnels more often than not."

Fyn's smile dropped just slightly at his family-brother's attitude. Martys had never been known as the cheerful one of the family, so Fyn wasn't surprised that his family-brother didn't share his enthusiasm.

"I didn't know you liked the outside," Fyn commented.

Martys shrugged. "Anywhere's better than here."

"I guess," Fyn said, not really sure if he agreed with his family-brother. He liked the burrow and the community underneath the surface. It was home. But Fyn hadn't really lived anywhere else. How do I know I wouldn't like some other place better?

"Why don't you go outside more often then?" Fyn inquired. "I'm sure it's not hard to find an adult to take you out."

"It's not that," Martys replied as he removed his food from the stone and dished it onto a plate. "I don't even need an adult anymore to go outside. There's an old tunnel down off the third-tier side shaft that takes you to the surface without anyone knowing. But once you get up there, where do you go? If you haven't noticed, there's nothing but grass for a hundred leagues in every direction."

Martys took a seat at the kitchen table, which was big enough to fit twelve on its loneliest day. Naalyms liked company, and Fyn's family was no different. Supper especially was a time for everyone to get together. The tunnels in the burrows were usually empty every night because the entire Naalym community was sitting down at someone's table, whether their own family's or another's, to enjoy food and fun.

Joining his family-brother at the table, Fyn considered Martys's last remark. "But what if you made it past the grasslands? What's outside our country?"

"I hear the Humans have communities to the West and North," Martys said, taking a bite of his food. "While mountains block us to the South, and the ocean lies to the East."

Fyn stared transfixed at his family-brother. This was stuff they didn't teach him in his classes. "Do you think we'll ever get to see any of those thing?"

Martys shrugged. "You might not. Most of our kind don't stray far from the burrows. But I plan on seeing the world one day. Especially the ocean. I hear it's like the grass; it stretches as far as the eye can see. But it's all water, rolling and moving to the wind." Fyn could see that his family-brother was actually becoming excited. "I've thought about going one day. Just heading east until my feet hit the water. It couldn't be more than a two day trip, I would think. I've looked over the maps we have in the study, but they aren't very thorough; none of them are really. Our kind don't do much exploring if you haven't noticed."

"Do you think I could come with you if you go?" Fyn asked excitedly.

Martys laughed. "You go outside once and you think you can travel the world already? You haven't even studied Magick yet."

"That's not true," Fyn argued. Well, it was true he hadn't studied Magick in his classes, but he'd played around with controlling fire. A few times, he and Stybs had gone into one of the sub-level storage rooms and set a small fire on the ground. Then they'd taken turns trying to make the fire burn brighter or hotter or longer. They couldn't always do it, but Fyn had fun trying.

"I can control the elements just as well as you," Fyn continued his argument.

"The mere fact that you said control and not enhance the elements means you don't know how," his family-brother replied with a smug smile on his face.

Then a sweet but cutting laugh came from the main opening. Fyn and Martys turned to find their second oldest family-sister standing there. Fyn grinned. He loved all his siblings, even his family-brother, though that was hard at times, but Elyda would always have a special place in his heart. Since he was a newborn, she'd taken care of him more than any of his mothers, including his own family-mother. She still watched over him to this day, especially whenever Martys was being a bully.

"So taking one course on Magick makes you an expert, Martys?" she asked.

"I never said I was an expert," Martys corrected quickly. "I was just saying I know more than this little pillow bug."

"Hey, I'm not a pillow bug," Fyn chimed in.

"Martys, if you did as much studying and practicing as you did daydreaming and complaining, you might have already become an expert on Magick," Elyda remarked.

"I don't complain," Martys argued. "I just don't like that we're forced to live in these tunnels. There's a whole world out there, and we're trapped here."

"Trapped?" Elyda questioned. "What are you talking about? This is our home."

"Well, maybe I wish this wasn't my home. There's bound to be better places out there than this."

Elyda just shook her head. "You're never going to be happy with what you have, will you?"

Martys stood abruptly. "You always ruin everything, Elyda. I'm going to eat in my room."

"Aw, Martys don't leave," Elyda protested. But Martys had already walked off without looking back.

After their family-brother had left the room, Elyda turned to Fyn. "He sure enjoys being off by himself, doesn't he?"

Fyn shrugged. "I guess he just likes it better that way."

Fyn didn't know it at that moment, but this was the last time he'd ever see his family-brother.

* * *

As the sun set on a cold, bleak day, Fyn sat atop a hill looking out across the land to the East. It had been a week now since the first time he had come to the surface. It had only been a week, but it felt like a lifetime ago. How could things have changed so much?

Fyn no longer had a smile on his face as he looked at the possibilities the surface held; all he could see was the brutal reality of being outside the tunnels. Now, he understood why his kind stayed inside those tunnels, why they hid from the world.

But Fyn sat atop the hill despite the danger. He sat atop the hill because he wanted to believe again what the world had to offer. He wanted to believe again what he had felt the first time he had come to the surface. He wanted to believe again that this world had good to offer and not just bad. He had to believe it again, or he didn't know if he could ever be happy again.

A noise behind him made Fyn turn, and he watched Stybs scramble up the last bit of slope.

"What in the name of Light are you doing up here? The entire burrow is looking for you."

"Did you bring what I asked?" Fyn questioned. He figured everyone would be looking for him, but he knew they wouldn't find him on the surface. That's the last place anyone would want to look right now.

"Yeah, I brought everything," Stybs answered. "But I'm not going to give you anything until you tell me why you asked me to meet you outside of all places." He glanced nervously towards the sky for a moment before looking at Fyn with concern. "I know what you're going through must be tough, but this seems stupid."

Fyn knew what he was doing was stupid, but that wasn't going to stop him from doing it. "You want to know why I'm out here?"

"Yeah, I do," Stybs insisted.

Fyn took a moment and looked at his friend, his brother, and then explained, "After the farewell ritual, my family-mother sat me down and told me I had a choice. A choice of what I wanted to focus on. She said I could either focus on the negative and be sad and angry and mourn the injustice of losing my family-brother. Or I could focus on the good and be happy for what Martys gave me when he was here and for the life he got to live."

Fyn ended and lost his gaze on the horizon. Stybs let a second pass in silence before asking, "So this is you focusing on the good?"

Fyn shook his head. "No, I can't do that just yet. I have to go find it first."

"You have to go find the good?" Stybs asked skeptically.

Fyn turned to his brother. "I have to go find what my family-brother gave me while he was here."

"What does that mean?"

Fyn grasped his brother's shoulder. "It means we're going to the ocean."

"We?" Stybs asked, his eyebrows rising.

"Yep," Fyn nodded. "My family-brother might have liked to do things on his own, but I think I could use some company."

Fyn grabbed the pack of supplies from Stybs' hand and slung it onto his back. "Or you can go back inside and tell everyone you let a child of Rolath's 3rd family go off to get killed on his own."

"You mean youngest child." Stybs corrected with a small grin.

"Right," Fyn returned as he started off away from the setting sun.

"This is stupid," Stybs said again, but Fyn could hear his brother only a few steps behind, following him down the slope of the hill. It might be stupid, but that doesn't mean it's not the right thing to do.

Chapter 9

Hunting a Sol

The sound of the stream winding its way across the forest floor calmed Shala as he sat along its bank with his eyes closed. He was resting, gathering his strength for the remainder of the training he had that day. And he needed the rest, for his father had been pushing him harder and harder as the days went on.

In the midst of the forest, all alone except for the stream babbling over the rocks that protruded from its shallow water, Shala listened to the world breathing around him. The wind, the trees, the wildlife, all of it rose and fell as the waves of Magick rolled through everything, including him. He was storing parts of that Magick in case he needed it in his training later. Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn't, but it was always better to be prepared.

Shala had cleared his mind so utterly and completely that every sound reached his ears and every movement caught his attention. Everything was at peace. But then a sound tore through that stillness.

If not for his state of absolute alertness, Shala would not have heard the danger. He would not have heard the sound of his attacker. He would not have heard the sound of a bow releasing an arrow from its string.

The twang of the weapon was distant; just far enough away for Shala to react. His body tensed, but he didn't even open his eyes; there wasn't enough time. All he could do was move and hope it was enough.

Shala snapped his head to the left. As he did, the arrow reached him.

Shala felt the arrowhead brush his cheek, leaving a bloody trail along his skin. The feathers of the arrow tickled his fur as the projectile flew past his face.

Shala's eyes flashed open as he heard the arrow collide with the ground behind him. Suddenly, adrenaline was pouring through his veins.

His gaze went instantly to where he expected the arrow to have come from; up in the trees over fifty yards away. Before he had blinked again, Shala was on the move. Another arrow whizzed by him, striking the ground where he had been sitting a split second before.

Shala leapt from rock to rock, crossing the stream without missing a step on the slippery surface. A third arrow splashed the water behind him, spraying his fur as he reached the far bank. On his next step, Shala sprang upwards into the nearest tree.

He scrambled up the lowest branch and then kicked off again, climbing higher. He circled the tree, keeping his eyes on where he thought the arrows were coming from. And then he saw movement. The leaves of the distant tree shook as whoever had fired on him was on the move.

It had crossed his mind that this was part of his father's training, but that first arrow had meant to kill, not wound. There were many predators in the Palagric Forest, but only one would use an arrow. Only one that would be bold enough to attack a Sol in broad daylight. Only another Sol.

Shala was making his way through the trees as fast as he could, while keeping his gaze fixed on where he had seen the last sign of his attacker. He didn't want to lose this chance; he couldn't let his enemy escape. Stealth didn't matter at this point, only speed, so Shala broke through branches without a second thought. As he begin to near his enemy's position, Shala climbed higher into the trees, trying to get a better vantage point to stage his own attack. Always take the higher ground.

More movement caught his eyes, and there leaping between two branches, was a dark figure. Shala only caught a glimpse, but the coloring of the fur told him all he needed to know. It told him he was going to face his mortal enemy. I'm going to face a Pheela.

Shala tried to control himself, but anticipation burned in his chest. He pulled the single dagger that he carried on his belt and held it at the read as he made another jump between trees. The wind whipped over him, but his tail balanced his flight as he landed softly on the next branch.

He slowed now, for the next tree was the last place he had seen his enemy. He was above looking down on the spot, watching the area for any signs of his attacker. But all was still. Where did he go?

Then it happen. The only warning Shala had was a bird taking flight a few feet away. He half turned, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the dark figure soaring down at him from above. Shala dove away just as the figure hit the branch, slamming a spear into the bark.

Shala rolled and was back on his feet in seconds, facing his attacker with his knife at the ready. The Pheela pulled his spear out of the tree and leveled the blade at Shala's chest. And that's when Shala saw his enemy's face. That's when he saw that he was facing not only a Pheela but the opposite sex as well. A female's trying to kill me?

The discovery stunned Shala only momentarily, for he could see the fire in his attacker's eyes and knew this wasn't going to be an easy fight even if she was a female. And sure enough, the next instant, she attacked.

Her spear darted out at him, and he only barely deflected it, falling back as she advanced on him. Shala dodged this way and that, using his dagger when he could to defend her blows. She had skill, but her technique was rough. The shear veracity in which she fought, however, made up for any lack of training. This won't be easy.

Shala knew he had to move. He leapt from the limb they were on and fell between the leaves of the giant tree, landing on a lower branch. She came down right behind him, but he was already swinging with his dagger, forcing her on the defensive. Her spear had the greater reach though, so he only attacked for a moment before leaping again.

This time to another tree where he sprung upwards, climbing higher. He could hear the female behind him, staying right on his heals.

At the next branch, Shala landed but immediately leapt back the way he had come, meeting the unsuspecting Pheela in mid air. She tried to swing her spear around, but Shala was already cutting across with his dagger. But she ducked her shoulder, and his blade cut air and nothing more.

Shala's concentration had been on the attack, and now he realized he had not put enough height in his jump. He landed against the side of the next branch and lost several precious seconds clawing his away on top of it. By the time he had, the female was on him. She attacked with her spear, spinning and thrusting as Shala sprang away. He moved his dagger as fast as he could, but before he knew it, several cuts had opened across his arms and torso. This can't go on much longer.

Shala again leapt from the branch, forcing her to pursue him. He needed to change the course of this battle or soon his attacker would run him through and leave him for the crows.

He began to ascend farther into the tree tops, springing from one limb to the next. Then an idea struck him and before he had even thought through it completely, he was running down the length of the next branch he came to. He waited until he heard the female behind him before diving off the edge.

Leaves and twigs brushed past him as he fell. He aimed for a large branch just ahead and landed on all fours, crouched like a spring ready to be released. His mind focused to a point, and the world became clear. He waited one second, two seconds. His enemy was almost upon him, but she had slowed. The world had slowed. Then Shala released the spring.

He jumped straight up, arching his back and throwing his legs over his head. The female landed where he had been only half a moment before. But now, Shala was above her. He was upside down over her head as he brought his legs swinging back down. The momentum of his flip sent his feet colliding with her back and sent her flying off the branch.

Shala jumped after her, diving right behind as she fell. The Pheela landed heavily on the next branch. She only had time to turn onto her back before Shala dropped down on top of her, pinning her arms against the tree. She still held her spear, but it was useless now.

They were both panting heavily, and Shala could feel the cuts and bruises that she had inflicted. He had his knife to her throat, but his hand wouldn't deal the final blow. Her eyes still burned with fire, and he knew she wouldn't stop trying to kill him. But his blade didn't move.

Then she spoke. "Are all Filan cowards like yous?"

Her words caught him by surprise. He was the one with the dagger to her throat and yet she had less uncertainty than he did.

"Kill me." Her voice was soft but her tone harsh. "Do it."

Shala stared at her. He had been taught to hate Pheela, but he didn't have any anger towards this female. Even though she had tried to kill him, he didn't see her as an enemy. He just saw a Sol.

Shala kept her pinned down, but he moved the blade of his dagger away from her throat. He didn't move it far but enough to let her know he wasn't going to kill her.

Shala didn't expect her to suddenly become peaceful towards him, but he also didn't expect the reaction he did get. As soon as the female saw what he was doing, she leaned forward and spit in his face.

"I've always heards Filan have no honor, but yous disgrace every Sol that has come before you!" She tried to lift him off of her, but Shala didn't budge. He didn't even chance wiping the spit from his face.

Instead, he said quietly, "I haves also heard much of the Pheela, but I did not knows they let females partake in the hunt."

Her eyes drew down to slits. "Yous know nothing of the Pheela."

As Shala studied her, it slowly dawned on him why this female was asking for death. "Your tribe doesn't knows you're here, do they?"

The female turned her head away. "Let me up or kill me, but I wills not listen to your filthy voice any longer."

"Yous thought you could prove yourself by bringings back a Filan, didn't yous?"

The female remained silent and kept her head turned away, so Shala continued.

"Yous can't go back empty handed or they'll banish you for going on the hunts without permission."

Again, the female did not respond.

Shala watched her for another moment before saying, "Yous are the one without honor."

This time the female whipped her head around. "I have no honor?! Lets me up, and I'll show yous that a female should be allowed to hunt!"

"Maybe they should," Shala continued calmly. "But sneakings away from your tribe is not the ways to do it."

"Don't yous lecture me," she growled. "At some point you'll have to let me up, and then I will regain my honor."

Shala knew she was right. He wasn't going to kill her, so eventually, he would have to let her go. But if she ever wanted to return home, she'd have to bring back a Filan. And he could see in her eyes, she'd kill him the first chance she got. He might not think of her as an enemy, but that's all she saw in him.

His father might have prepared him for every situation in battle, but this was different. How do you make peace when the world shows you nothing but violence?

Chapter 10

The Roof

Hand over hand Kortin climbed the narrow ladder to the top of the building that housed the living quarters he shared with his family. He pulled himself over the ledge and stood on the roof, feeling the stiff breeze of the cloudy day toss his hair about. This wasn't the tallest building in the area, but seven stories up did make for a great panoramic view of the city. Kortin would have come up to the roof more often, but he had been told not to. So why risk it?

Today, however, he had come in search of his brother. Tareth was there, on the far side of the roof, looking over the ledge. Kortin knew his brother didn't come up here very often either, so he'd been surprised when his sisters had told him that's where Tareth had gone. Their mother was off trying to barter for some food or bread or anything really, and Kortin had just gotten home from school. Tareth was supposed to be watching his younger sisters, but instead, he was on the roof.

Tareth hadn't been quite the same since he had come home from the Keep a few days ago. He had barely gotten out of bed since then and rarely had an appetite. Kortin's mother said he had been through a traumatic experience and would need some time to recover, but Kortin saw something else in his brother that worried him. There was a distance in his eyes; a vague look that seemed withdrawn and not completely there. It's like not all of Tareth came back from those dungeons.

As Kortin crossed the roof, he called out to his brother. "What're you doing, Tareth? You know we aren't supposed to be up here."

But Tareth didn't turn around, instead keeping his eyes on the street far below.

"You okay?" Kortin asked, coming up beside his brother.

Another moment passed before Tareth spoke. "It's nice up here. I like how small everyone looks. And how big I feel."

Kortin turned his gaze over the ledge and watched the people moving about in the streets. They did look small, crowded together between the buildings on either side. But Kortin didn't keep his focus on the people for long and instead, brought his eyes up to the look out over the other rooftops to the horizon in the distance. He looked past the walls of the city to the treetops of the forest and the river beyond. So far away.

He glanced back at his brother. "What happened to you in the dungeons?"

Finally, Tareth took his eyes off the people below and turned them on Kortin. And for the first time since Tareth had gotten arrested, Kortin saw a presence in his brother's eyes. He saw a burning and excitement in Tareth again. But instead of giving Kortin hope that his brother would eventually be the same again, it made him scared that Tareth was getting farther away. There had always been a mischievous gleam in Tareth's eye, but now, that gleam seemed dangerous.

"You want to know what happened?" he asked, a slight smile curving the corner of his lips. "Something wonderful happened."

Kortin studied his brother, almost wanting to take a step back. Tareth hadn't always been the most upstanding citizen, but Kortin had never before been nervous to be around him.

"I learned I don't have to be afraid," Tareth continued, turning now to face the horizon. "I was taught that I have a power. A power that I can use. A power that's inside us all." His eyes came back to Kortin. "You just have to let it in. You just have to open yourself up. It's waiting out there for all of us; you just have to let it take you."

Kortin stared at his brother as if he was looking at a stranger. "What are you talking about?"

Tareth laughed, and suddenly, the gleam left his eyes. "You wouldn't understand. Not yet anyways."

Kortin didn't know if he'd ever understand what his brother was talking about. He had never known Tareth to want power or be afraid of anything. What did they do to him in the dungeons?

"Com'n lets just get back downstairs before Mom gets home," Kortin suggested, stepping away from the ledge.

Tareth nodded, the distant cast back in his eyes. He looked at the people below once more before turning to follow Kortin. But then he stopped. Kortin was puzzled until he heard a voice behind him.

"I thought we told you two never to come up here again."

Kortin looked over his shoulder and saw the two people he definitely did not want to run into while on the roof. Loris and Prulk were the meanest kids in the building and had bullied Kortin and Tareth on more than one occasion. They were two years older than Tareth, and though Loris wasn't much bigger, Prulk was large enough to lift Kortin off the ground with one hand, which he had actually done before.

"Do we have to teach you another lesson?" Loris continued. Kortin backed up to his brother as he remembered the previous encounter between the four of them. Kortin's bruises had taken over a week to heal, and that was only because Tareth had taken most of the hits.

"Look Loris, they seem scared," Prulk laughed.

"I think you're right," Loris returned. "But you know, they don't look quite scared enough, Prulk. I mean they are up here after all."

"That's true. Maybe we should show them the quickest way down from up here."

Kortin felt his body tremble as he took another step back. The two bullies were laughing to themselves, while they continued to throw out possible ways that they could teach Kortin and his brother a lesson. This is our chance to get out of here.

The ladder was still on the far side of the bullies, but Kortin thought he and Tareth could make a run for it and maybe the bullies wouldn't pursue. It seemed like the best option. He just had to get Tareth's attention.

Tareth was in front of Kortin now, so Kortin reached out and tugged on his brother's sleeve. "Com'n Tareth. We can make a run for it."

But Tareth didn't turn. Instead, he did the opposite; he stepped towards the bullies. They were still distracted by the humor of their own twisted jokes and didn't notice Kortin's brother moving towards them.

After a couple steps, Tareth stooped down and picked up something off the rooftop. He hid whatever it was in the folds of his sleeve before Kortin could see the object. It didn't seem that important to Kortin at the moment anyways, for his mind was still trying to comprehend what Tareth was doing. The dungeons definitely knocked something loose in him.

Kortin was about to just tackle Tareth before he did anything stupid, but then it was too late.

"Now, what do we have here?" Loris said as he and Prulk faced Tareth.

"You come to beg for mercy?" Prulk chuckled.

"Oh, I hope not," Loris chided.

At last, Tareth stopped, and Kortin's breath caught in his throat as he waited for what was going to happen next.

Then Tareth spoke. "I don't want to harm either of you, but I think it is only fair to inform you that this is now my roof. You do not get to make the rules anymore."

A long moment ticked by in silence before the bullies burst out laughing. "Are you serious?" Prulk asked.

"It looks like he is!" Loris chimed in.

Kortin couldn't believe Tareth was still standing there. What is he doing?!

"I'm starting a group," Tareth said as if answering Kortin's unspoken question. "You two are invited of course. I could use a couple of guys like you."

Now, the bullies weren't even laughing. They were just staring at Tareth as if he was some weird creature they'd never seen before.

Then Prulk turned to Loris. "Is it time to beat his face in yet?"

"Yes, I think so," Loris answered.

"Finally!" Prulk exclaimed, starting forward with his chest puffed out and a grin on his face.

Kortin didn't want to watch, but he couldn't look away. He wanted to help, to do something, but he froze. Fortunately, Tareth didn't need any help.

From where he had hidden it up his sleeve, Tareth pulled out a foot long metal pipe, which he swung with the full force of his whole body. The bully had no time to react, not even to raise his arms. Kortin cringed as the pipe collided with Prulk's head. The impact made a sickening thud, and Kortin watched in horror as the bully instantly crumbled to the ground.

Tareth, meanwhile, was already on the move again before the dust had even settled from Prulk's face-plant. But this time Tareth had his sights set on Loris, who was staring with his mouth hanging open.

Lunging forward, Tareth slammed the end of the pipe into Loris's belly, doubling him over. The bully coughed and choked as he fell to his knees, ending the fight before it had even really begun.

But Tareth wasn't done just yet. He grabbed Loris by the hair and tilted the bully's head back. Loris had fear in his eyes as he looked up at Tareth.

"I told you this is my roof now," Tareth said, his voice devoid of emotion. "I'm having a meeting here tomorrow night for my new group. If you'd like to join me, I'd welcome it. If not, that's fine. If you'd rather try to inflict some sort of revenge, well you'll know where to find me." Then Tareth leaned in close. "But you better come at me with more than just a few silly threats. I won't be alone next time."

Tareth let go of Loris's hair, and the boy fell to the ground still clutching his stomach. Then Tareth dropped the pipe next to the two bullies and walked casually towards the ladder.

Kortin stood there in the breeze of the rooftop and felt paralyzed. He'd watched his brother steal and cheat and lie, but he'd never seen him do anything violent. It scared Kortin down to his very core.

When Tareth reached the ladder, he swung around and was about to start down, but then he noticed Kortin on the far side of the roof. "You coming with me?" he called out.

Kortin stared at his brother. Am I?
Chapter 11

On The Run

Lasinna had been walking all day when she finally came upon the winding dirt road that would take her out of the Kingdom of Roaf. Eventually, this road would connect with the main path that went all the way to Hunath. That's where Lasinna was headed, but it wasn't her final destination. She'd still have to make her way to the Istern River where she'd hopefully find passage to Isolan. It would not be an easy journey nor a quick one. But I must do it.

At least, she had found the road finally. She had meant to cut through the woods and meet up with the road once it was far enough away from her village where no one would see her, but she'd planned on reaching it by lunchtime and now, it was getting on to evening. It didn't leave her much time to find a place to stay for the night. Lasinna hadn't been able to bring a map with her provisions, but she'd always heard the nearest settlement along the road wasn't more than a day's trip. I just hope I haven't passed it already.

Even if she had, all Lasinna could do was press on. She had a sleeping bag just in case she had to spend the night outside, but that thought, which hadn't seemed like such a bad idea two days ago when she was planning this trip, did not appeal to her at all now that she might actually have to do it. But Lasinna kept her resolve as the sky darkened overhead and the insects of the night began to come alive with their chirps and songs.

Fortunately, after only another half-hour, Lasinna saw lights in the distance. The trees on either side of the road started to thin as fields and fences took their places. Then Lasinna could see houses and buildings along the road, and before she knew it, Lasinna was walking through the quiet town of Ostir.

The main street of this town was the same road Lasinna had been traveling on, but there were smaller streets that branched off and ran between the buildings of the small village. Actually, in truth, it wasn't that small, for it looked to be bigger than Lasinna's own meager town. At this time of day, only a few people were still walking the streets, and no one really noticed Lasinna as she made her way towards the two story building with a sign out front that named it the Road's Inn.

Lights were on inside, and Lasinna stepped out of the evening twilight and into the welcoming brightness. The Inn wasn't very crowded, just a few travelers like herself. Well, not exactly like herself. These travelers were all men with rugged faces and unshaven chins; their clothes were dirty and worn. Lasinna felt dirty and worn, but she knew she didn't look it. Not after just one day of walking.

She received a few glances from the men at the tables, taking in this sixteen-year-old girl with a pack on her back. She knew right away there'd be questions and there'd be talk; rumors in this part of the world could spread like brush fire. Lasinna just hoped a rumor hadn't reached this village yet of a young girl who had run away from home. Maybe I should have just slept on the side of the road tonight.

Just then, a tall, elderly man with hallow cheeks walked up to her from between the tables. She noticed an apron tied loosely around his narrow frame and assumed he was the Innkeeper.

"What can I do you for, young lass?" His words were polite, but Lasinna sensed a tone of suspicion in his voice.

"Just looking for a warm meal," she replied.

The Innkeeper nodded. "Well, we can offer you that, but only if you've got the coin for it. I don't tolerate no urchins in my place."

Now, Lasinna understood. He was suspicious that she'd eat and run. But Lasinna had some coin. She definitely had enough for a meal and a room tonight. That might not be the case throughout the rest of her journey, but she'd worry about that when she had to. Over the last few years, Lasinna had saved up a good amount of money, hiding it away under the floorboards in her room. When she had first started saving, she wasn't sure why she was doing it, but it had always made her feel better that she had money tucked away just in case. Good thing she did, or she'd still be stuck on her family's farm.

"I have money," Lasinna responded evenly, tilting her head up to look this innkeeper directly in the eye. "But if you'd like me to spend it elsewhere I'd be happy to oblige." She turned to go.

"No, no," the Innkeeper protested quickly. "I didn't mean to insult. We just don't get many young girls like yourself stopping at the Inn, unless they're run aways. But I assure you, you won't find a better meal in this town than right here." He began leading her to an empty table, but he hadn't gone two feet before he was questioning her again. "So what does bring you to our village tonight, Miss...?"

Lasinna could feel several eyes turn in her direction, but she had already prepared an answer. "Pulmer. Almisa Pulmer. And I'm on my way to Roaf. My sister's sick, so my mother sent me to the city to bring back the medicine she needs."

The Innkeeper stopped at a table, and Lasinna took a seat as he said, "I'm sorry to hear that. Will you be needing a room then?"

"Yes, thank you."

The Innkeeper soon left and then returned with a plate of sliced chicken, rice, and a few vegetable on the side. Once he was gone for good, Lasinna began eating, and only then did she realize just how hungry she was. This journey was definitely going to take its toll on her, and it was really only the beginning. Once she got to Isolan then the real journey began.

A few of the men in the common room still gave her the occasional glance, but Lasinna kept her head down and her eyes on the meal. She hoped everyone in the room would forget her as soon as she was gone, but that might have been too much to hope for. Her parents would probably know by tomorrow night that a girl fitting her description had passed through this village. Lets just hope they'll be too busy with Delphi to come after me.

But then Lasinna's dinner was interrupted. A man came through the door, letting in some of the nighttime coolness. Everyone's eyes went to this newcomer, but before the man had a chance to looked around the room, Lasinna had already dropped to the ground. Luckily, her table was in the far corner, so by the time the newcomer glanced in her direction, it just seemed like an empty table that hadn't been cleared yet.

The man at the door might have been a stranger to everyone else, but Lasinna had recognized him instantly. He was from her village and had sometimes even assisted Mage Warnett in their classes. His name was Mr. Surkit, and Lasinna knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had come for her.

She watched through the legs of the table as Mr. Surkit made his way over to the bar where the Innkeeper was now serving drinks. Lasinna had to get out of the Inn right now, or she'd be on the road back home in a matter of moments.

Grabbing her pack, she walked quickly toward the door, trying as she did not to seem as if she was in a hurry. She didn't want to draw anymore attention to herself than she already had. Reaching the door, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Mr. Surkit talking with the Innkeeper. But before either of them had a chance to look for her, Lasinna had already slipped back out into the night. I guess I did eat and run.

Lasinna couldn't worry about this moral dilemma at the present, however, as she frantically searched for a place to hide. Then she saw the stables situated next door that housed the horses of those who stayed at the Inn. If there was a hayloft in there, not only would she have a place to hide, but she could just stay the night there as well. First, though, she had to make sure no one came looking for her.

There was only one horse tied to the post outside the Inn, and Lasinna could only assume the horse belonged to Mr. Surkit. She untied the animal quickly and then slapped the horse on the rump, sending it trotting off into the night. Let them think I stole that too.

Before the sound of the horse's hooves had faded completely, Lasinna had already made it into the stables, which were even darker than the moonlit night outside, but her eyes slowly adjusted as she made her way to the back of the stables. Lasinna moved quietly, trying not to wake any of the animals in their stalls, and found the ladder that led to the hayloft. She scurried up it and flung herself into the hay. Now, I just have to wait it out.

It wasn't long before she heard voices outside the barn; sometimes getting louder, sometimes getting softer. As she crouched there tensely, Lasinna thought maybe she had made a mistake. What if Mr. Surkit hadn't been looking for me at all? What if he was just passing through? If that was the case, Lasinna could have shared a pleasant meal with the man and maybe even traveled with him for a time. But now, she had not only run out on her meal but had, for all intents and purposes, stolen his horse as well. Of course, the more she reasoned with it, Lasinna realized even if Mr. Surkit hadn't been there for her, he'd never had let her go on anyways. He would have taken her straight home no matter what her argument. That thought helped Lasinna justify her actions to some degree. I had to do it.

Then the doors of the stables opened and a glow illuminated most of the inside. Lasinna buried herself deeper into the hay and listened as she heard voices down below.

"She couldn't have gotten far." That was Mr. Surkit; Lasinna recognized his deep voice. "She'd stick to the road, which means there's only one way she'd be going. I just hope she doesn't injure my horse, galloping in this darkness and all."

"Don't you let any harm come to my horse either; I ain't going to be taking a refund on her if she comes back with a limp." The crispness of this voice left Lasinna no doubt that it was the Innkeeper.

"The amount I'm paying ya, I should be getting two horses out of this deal." Lasinna felt bad as she realized Mr. Surkit was having to buy a new horse to go after her. Maybe I didn't think this plan all the way through. "I'll bring your animal back as soon as I get the girl, so you best not go spending any of my purse."

"Wouldn't think of it."

As they talked, Lasinna had heard the sounds of a saddle being fitted onto one of the horses in the stable, and now, Mr. Surkit had mounted the steed. "Thanks for your help Innkeeper. Next time, you might not want to let a sixteen-year-old girl make a fool of you."

Before the Innkeeper could utter a response, Mr. Surkit had heeled his horse into a gallop and sped out of the stables. The Innkeeper was left to mutter under his breath as he closed the large doors of the stables. Lasinna next heard him shuffle back to grab the lantern, which, once he had it in his hand, made the light inside the stables swing back and forth. Now, she held her breath, counting the moments until he was gone and she could finally release the tension in her shoulders.

But then her foot slipped in the hay. It was just a slight rustle, and for a fraction of a second, Lasinna thought maybe the Innkeeper would dismiss the sound as one of the animals moving in its stall. But she wasn't so lucky.

"Who's there?" the Innkeeper called out, spinning around and causing the lantern's light to dance along the ceiling.

Lasinna didn't dare respond.

"It's you, isn't it?" he continued, moving closer to the hayloft. "The little girl on an errand for her poor sick sister." That's true actually. Sort of. "Get down from there. Or I'll use my pitchfork and make you get down from there." His voice had lost even the hint of pleasantness, and Lasinna felt a chill run down her spine. What to do?

There was no exit from the hayloft except the ladder, so she couldn't escape from way up here. But maybe if she was on the ground, she'd be able to escape by just outrunning the Innkeeper. He was old and hopefully not very fast. But she had to get down there before he really did get a pitchfork in his hands. This guy might actually be serious about his threats.

The Innkeeper was about to call out again when Lasinna stood. "Okay, I'll come down."

"That's right you will, little girl," the Innkeeper sneered. "I told you we don't like filthy urchins around here, but liars and thieves, we especially hate."

Lasinna tried to remain calm as she descended the ladder, thinking as she did that she'd bolt for the front door as soon as her foot hit the ground. But before she had even reached the second to last rung, the Innkeeper already had her arm in his grip and pulled her off the ladder. She stumbled and tried to run, but it was too late.

"Gotcha now, girl," he grinned as he began dragging her toward the exit. "That man might be thinking he's going to take you on back home, but I'm here to make sure you get thrown in jail where you belong."

Lasinna tried to struggle, but even though he only held her with one hand, his grip would not yield. His other hand still held the lantern aloft, which cast wicked shadows across his already grotesque face.

"Let me go! You don't understand," she pleaded with him.

But he only laughed. "Oh, I understand. I understand that you are going to pay for what you've done."

They were nearing the door, and Lasinna knew she had to do something quickly. Anger was burning inside of her for this old man who had no right to keep her here; to throw her behind bars. She'd done what she had to do. She couldn't go back. I can't go back.

Then that anger became something else. It changed into an electric current. It was like a switch had been flipped inside of her, and suddenly, energy flooded her veins instead of blood. She was beyond feelings now. She didn't know how, but she realized with a strange clarity that this was Magick inside of her. This was power inside of her. Power that she could use. She just had to unleash it. She just had to let it out. I just have to strike with it!

The next thing Lasinna knew, she was laying on her back staring up at the ceiling of the barn. The lantern's glow still illuminated the inside of the structure, but the light was no longer moving; everything was still.

Lasinna sat up slowly, feeling light headed and dizzy. She rubbed her temples as she looked around. But her eyes didn't get far as they immediately stopped on the Innkeeper laying unconscious next to her. The lantern was on it's side, but luckily, it had not caught the whole barn on fire. Even so, it did look like the Innkeeper had been burned. The arm that had been holding her was now black and charred. What happened?

But Lasinna had no time to figure that out, for suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching. Then the barn doors were swinging open. Lasinna was going to be caught, and she had now done much more than just steal. How am I ever going to get out of this one?

Chapter 12

Downpour

Fyn and Stybs traveled well into the night that first day away from the burrow on their quest to see the ocean. Fyn wasn't sure if anyone would come looking for them out on the surface, but he didn't want to take the chance that a search party would catch up to them and force them to go back. Nobody probably even knew where they were, much less the direction they'd be traveling, but Fyn still didn't let them stop until well past midnight.

He had also been worried that Stybs would complain the whole way and keep saying how stupid this idea was. Fyn didn't know if he could bear hearing that, for after the first hour of traveling when the sun set and the world became dark, Fyn started to wonder if this really was a stupid idea. If Stybs had continued his argument that they shouldn't be doing this, Fyn didn't know if he'd be able to hold to his path and not turn back. But fortunately, Stybs didn't really say anything while they traveled, and Fyn kept moving forward. I hope I don't come to regret this idea.

That thought was too late now, though; they were on their way. Of course, Fyn assumed they would probably only have to endure one or two more days of traveling before they reached the ocean. That's what his family-brother had told him, and really, it was the only thing Fyn had to go off of. But even if it took a week to get to the water, Fyn wouldn't have let that stop him. He was doing this for his family-brother because now that Martys couldn't do it himself, Fyn had to live out this dream for him. And maybe this way I can get my own dreams back.

That first night out in the open, on the surface, was both exhilarating and terrifying for Fyn. There was so much space, so much openness, that Fyn felt completely exposed, completely vulnerable. There were noises in the night, insects and animals and who knew what else, and though Fyn found it fascinating, the unknown of what lay in the darkness kept him tense the whole time.

Stybs seemed to be feeling the same way for neither of them got much sleep that night. They had built a small fire and then tried to practice controlling the flames with Magick, but they quickly became too tired. Even though they hadn't traveled very far that first day, the toll of starting this journey had definitely settled on both of them. For Fyn especially, after all that had happened since the death of his family-brother had left him physically and, even more so, emotionally tired. And using Magick took a large amount of concentration and mental strength, both of which he did not have an abundance of at the moment.

When Fyn finally drifted off to sleep that night the last thing he remembered seeing were the stars overhead, sparkling across the vast ocean that was the sky. He had heard of the stars, like he had heard of many things, but he'd never seen them before. He felt so small under the great tapestry of the heavens. Even after he closed his eyes, it comforted him to know the stars were there above him; to know that they really did exist. I wonder if the ocean will be this beautiful.

The next morning, Fyn woke to a cold drop of water hitting his face. His eyes came open slowly, drearily, as another wet droplet splashed against his skin. He looked to the sky, but instead of finding stars, only gray clouds filled his view.

"What's happening?" Stybs asked frantically, sitting up nearby. "What is this?"

Fyn smiled. "Rain."

"Rain?" Stybs said in equal wonder and puzzlement.

Like the stars, Fyn had heard of rain but had never experienced it first hand. He stood with Stybs, and they both turned their faces to the heavens and let the cool drops of water run down their faces. They even laughed as they tried to catch the rain with their tongues. But as more rain begin to fall and Fyn had trouble now looking up at the sky because of all the water falling on his face, he realized the thrill of seeing rain for the first time would be short lived.

Stybs seemed to have come to the same conclusion because their smiles disappeared together, and they quickly went about gathering their belongings and starting off. They only had one pack between them, so they loaded their food into it and took turns carrying the weight throughout the day.

As they traveled, Fyn did his best to steer them due east, but with the sun hidden from sight, Fyn couldn't be sure of his directions. The world became darker as the clouds overhead thickened and the rain fell even harder. Soon Fyn and Stybs were soaked through, and all they could do was keep their heads down and press on.

At one point, Stybs finally called out to Fyn. "We should find a place to stop. We can't keep going in this weather."

"Just a little farther," Fyn urged. "Maybe the rain will stop soon."

But after another hour, if anything, the rain had only gotten worse. Stybs called out to him again, suggesting they take shelter. Fyn didn't want to stop though. He feared if they stopped and waited for the rain to let up, they could be waiting for the rest of the day and even the next day, and then they wouldn't have any provisions left to continue their journey. I wonder if that's what Stybs is hoping for.

Finally, however, Fyn had to agree that they needed to stop and decided they'd take shelter in the next place that would provide them with a reprieve from the storm. Fyn would rather risk them going through their provisions then one of them getting sick. Then we'd have to go back.

Nearly another hour later, Stybs spotted an overhang in the side of one of the hills nearby. They scrambled up the already muddy slope of the hill and stumbled inside, thankful to be out of the rain. The overhang actually went farther into the hill than they had thought, and there was even a tunnel at the far end that ran off into darkness. But this was no Naalym tunnel, and Fyn was in no mood to go exploring. So he and Stybs built a fire near the opening and settled in.

On a day like this Fyn realized just how useful Magick could be. With everything soaked through, Magick was the only way they could get the sticks and pieces of wood they'd found in a nearby bush to catch fire. And then Stybs made the flames give off a little extra heat until the two of them were good and dry. It must have been around lunch time as well, so they pulled out out their provisions and had a bite to eat as the rain drummed down on the grasslands just outside their shelter. Now, we just have to wait it out. I hope this doesn't take too long.

Fyn looked out at the world from his vantage point, and after a time, he was left with only the sound of the rain, the crackling of the fire, and the steady breathing of Stybs fast asleep. The scene was so peaceful Fyn's own eyes begin to get heavy, though he did try to stop sleep's pull. He wanted to be awake as soon as the storm cleared, so he could get them back on the road without more of a delay than was necessary. But his eyes wouldn't obey his will.

Then, however, a sound caught his attention. He thought at first that maybe it was the start of a dream, but Fyn realized he hadn't quite passed into that realm of unreality. The sound came again, and Fyn managed to pry his eyes open. The noise was coming from the dark tunnel at the other end of the cave. It was a soft scraping sound like someone running their foot across the dirt.

Fyn pulled himself off the ground, wondering what the sound was. He thought maybe it was the wind blowing through the tunnels or water running down from above. As he stood there trying to figure it out the sound died away again and everything became still.

Fyn assumed it was nothing and was about to turn back to the fire when the sound came again. And this time the scraping was quicker. It was growing louder as well. Fyn knew at once that this was not the wind. Something was making the sound, and that something was coming their way.

"Stybs!" Fyn shouted immediately, grabbing the pack they shared. "Get up! We've got to go!"

Stybs blinked his eyes open and looked somewhat irritated at having been woken up. "What ya yelling about?"

"We have to get outta here. Now!" Fyn said urgently. "Something's coming."

Then Stybs noticed the sound echoing out of the dark tunnel. He looked to Fyn with fear in his eyes. Fyn didn't know what was speeding towards them, but he couldn't think of anything good. And now the sound was even louder, reverberating off the walls.

Fyn pulled Stybs off the ground. "Move!" he shouted.

But then Fyn saw what was creating the sound as it emerged from the darkness. He saw the piercing yellow eyes with the black vertical slits. He saw the forked tongue, red like blood, lash out of a mouth that contained fangs large enough to pierce Fyn in the chest and come out the other side. He saw the reptile, the great serpent that was supposed to live only in nightmares and stories to scare young Naalyms. But here it is in the flesh!

The snake opened its immense jaw, and Fyn looked down its throat to his doom. But this wasn't the way he wanted to die. He wasn't ready to follow his family-brother. Not yet.

Fyn grabbed Stybs, who was petrified with shock, and hurled them both out of the cave and back into the rain. They landed below the opening of the overhang on the slick slope of the hill. Fyn saw the snake burst into the sky above them, its jaw clamping shut on what it thought would be its lunchtime meal. Not such easy prey, are we?!

Fyn and Stybs were now sliding and rolling down the muddy hill, unable to stop. Every other tumble, Fyn saw the snake continue out of the cave, its long body slithering back and forth down the hill after them.

They finally reached the bottom of the hill and landed head first into a small river that had formed from the downpour. Fyn sputtered and splashed to the surface trying to breathe. The temporary river was not deep, but its current made it hard for Fyn to get to his feet. And Stybs was still struggling just to get his head out of the water. Then Fyn turned and saw with horror that the snake was almost upon them.

Fyn knew there was only one thing that could save them now. He had to use Magick. He had to use the power that had been instilled in every Naalym. But this wasn't practice with flames and fire; this was the real thing. He needed the Elements. He needed nature to provide him with a weapon. And on a day like this, nature had definitely provided one.

The snake struck. Its mouth opened wide, and its fangs dripped with venom that would kill Fyn in case the actual bite wounds didn't get him first. But with its jaw completely open, Fyn saw his advantage. This is my chance.

With his mind clear, Fyn felt the water flowing swiftly past him on all sides. He felt the river and asked for its help. He asked for it to share its energy with him. He asked to connect to it, so they could be one. I must be the Element.

Then Fyn threw his hands forward, pushing the water with his mind. And suddenly a wall rose from the river. A wall of water broke from its natural course and surged towards the snake. The water caught the great serpent in the mouth, filling its throat. The snake choked on the liquid and began throwing its head about violently.

Fyn used the precious seconds of the snake's distraction to grab Stybs from the river. They made their way to the other side and around the next hill, not stopping until they were out of sight of the snake. The thrashing of the great serpent still reached their ears, but Fyn didn't know how much longer that was going to last.

"We have to keep moving!" he whispered intensely.

Stybs, his eyes wide with fright, shook out a nod.

Fyn hoped his friend, his brother, was okay, but that wasn't something he could deal with right now. Fyn led them away from the hill, and they moved as fast as they could though the wet grass that whipped at their faces and clung to their skin. The rain battered down at them from above, and in their frantic escape, Fyn had not only lost their only pack but also, all sense of direction. They could have been heading back east and he wouldn't have even known it. But if the snake was after them there was nothing else they could do. They had to keep moving.

"We should never have left home!" Stybs suddenly shouted over the rain.

Fyn glanced at his brother. Maybe he's right. But we can't give up now.

Chapter 13

Forest Floor

Shala still had the female pinned down against the tree as he tried to decide what to do next. He stared into her eyes wondering how such a beautiful creature could be filled with so much hate and violence. She had gone against the laws of her tribe, which meant the only way for her to be accepted back into her home would be if she killed. When did killing become a reward?

But Shala had other questions on his mind that he had to deal with before he could answer that one. He first had to get out if this situation he'd found himself in. The female still held her spear, but even if he told her to drop it, the moment he let her up she'd still find a way to attack. But he wasn't going to kill her, and he wasn't going to take her back to his tribe where they would kill her. So what else can I do besides let her up?

Shala held the female's gaze for another moment before standing and releasing his grip on her. The female only hesitated a moment before rolling away and scrambling to her feet as well. She leveled her spear at him but didn't attack. Shala still held his dagger at the ready, but a weapon that didn't carry a threat didn't do much good.

Her eyes continued to burn with fire as she stared at him, but for the first time, Shala saw a slight hesitation in them as well. "I must kill yous," she whispered. Then why haven't you yet?

Shala could see the fact that his submissiveness made her unsure of killing him. Sols did not kill unarmed creatures unless it was for food, and though Shala did have a weapon and would use it to defend himself, his unwillingness to partake in the final blow was just as much an act of nonviolence as having his hands tied behind his back.

"Yous don't have to. There are other ways," Shala responded evenly. His body remained tense, waiting to see what the female would do. She didn't move.

"What's your name?" he asked finally.

The female's eyes momentarily lost their fire as she looked at him with a touch of surprise. Then the fire returned and a hotter anger along with it. "Your ears are not worthy to hears my name."

"I am Shala. And I know yous think you only have one choice heres, but I don't believe yous will kill me."

"Then yous have much to learn, youngling." The female snarled, and in a flash, she had leapt forward and driven her spear towards Shala's chest.

But Shala didn't move. He didn't raise his weapon; he didn't even flinch. All he did was close his eyes. I'll risk my life to know that there's a chance for peace.

Another second passed, and he had not been run through. He opened his eyes and saw the female's face close to him now. She was only a spear's length away as the point of the weapon hovered an inch from his chest.

"Yous thought you were saving my life by not slittings my throat, but you have just placed a fate worse thans death on me. I am a Sol with no home, no tribe. I am lost."

Shala could no longer see anger in the female; instead, there was a sadness. He knew she didn't think there was a way out of this, but if she could just find a way to trust him, then together they would be able to come up with a solution. And Shala thought maybe there was hope for that because she had called herself a Sol not a Pheela. We are all Sols.

"What's your name?" he asked again.

Her eyes had drifted away from his face, but now, they returned. He could see she was going to tell him. This was the first step of a very long journey, but at least there would be a step at all.

She opened her mouth, but suddenly, her eyes widened in surprise. A gasp escaped her lips, and her shoulders slumped. Shala looked at her in confusion. Then the female slowly turned as the spear dropped from her hands. An arrow protruded from her back as blood spread across her shirt.

Before Shala could move, the female fell. She slipped off the branch and disappeared over the edge. Shala took a quick step and looked down in shock, but all he saw were the swaying branches of where the female had passed through. She had probably already hit the forest floor, and his hope of something more than violence and war had gone with her.

Shala prepared himself to jump after the female, but the limb he stood on shook abruptly as someone landed nearby. Glancing over tensely, Shala found his father, bow in hand, standing on the limb, staring at him. Shala stared back, wondering how much his father had seen. If he had witnessed the whole conversation then Shala would be banished for not killing a Pheela when he'd had the chance.

"I thought yous were better than that," his father said.

Shala didn't answer, still staring at his father, unblinking. At least, if he saw what happened, he will know how I truly feel.

"Not only did yous let a Pheela nearly kill you, but a female no less. I thoughts I had trained you better." So he didn't see.

The only thing his father had seen was the Pheela with her spear inches from running him through. His father thought he had saved Shala's life, but that was as far from the truth as possible.

"You've disappointed me," his father continued. "We will have to trains harder after this failure."

Shala could only drop his eyes to the ground, the ground far below where the female must lay broken and bruised, bleeding to death or already dead.

"Yous wonder if she's dead," his father observed. No, I wonder if she lives. "Go find out. If she's not, finish her quickly. But don't expects anyone to consider this your first kill. You'll get no honor for killing my scraps."

Shala nodded and leapt off the branch. He didn't want to hear his father's voice any longer, especially now that he had been given the opportunity to go check on the female. He only hoped his father did not follow. He can never know what happened here.

The branches and leaves flew past Shala as he descended among the trees. He landed softly on a lower limb before leaping off and falling again; the forest floor rushed up quickly to meet him. His feet hit the soft, cool grass, and he crouched, scanning the area with his eyes. Where is she?

The ground in this part of the forest rose and fell in gentle slopes, making it impossible to see very far even without the giant tree trunks rising everywhere. Climbing the nearest slope, Shala looked about again and then spotted the female. She was at the bottom of a small ravine, and by the look of the trampled grass, she had hit close to where Shala was standing but had rolled down the inclined slope to where she now rested.

Shala immediately scrambled down the hill and quickly approached the female. Blood matted her fur, and dirt and grass covered her clothes, but Shala saw her chest rise and fall ever so slightly. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him to know she was alive. Without care, she probably wouldn't last long, but right now, it was important just to get her off the forest floor. The scent of fresh blood would attract too many predators where she was.

He knelt beside her and gathered her still, and surprisingly slight, frame in his arms. With his father waiting, Shala knew he must be quick, but he had to find a suitable place for her until he could return. Searching out the lowest branch he could find, Shala held the female tightly in his arms and jumped. His leap was not the most graceful, but he managed to scramble atop the limb without jostling the female too much, though she did let out a soft groan. Don't worry, you're going to be okay.

A little higher up the tree Shala noticed a grouping of limbs sprouting from the trunk in a way that would provide a nice nook to lay the female down. It wouldn't be much, but Shala knew he couldn't carry her very far; she wouldn't be able to take it in the state she was in.

He managed to get her up to the makeshift platform formed by the great branches of the tree and laid her down as gently as he could, being careful of the arrow still sticking out of her back. He had seen this same wound many times in many a deer, but for some reason, today, Shala could not look at it. The blood and damage the arrow had inflicted in this beautiful creature made his stomach turn.

Shala studied the female, knowing he had to get the arrow out and dress the wound and then find bedding to keep her warm while he was gone. And all of this had to be done before his father grew suspicious and came searching for him. But Shala couldn't take his eyes off the female's face. She was sleeping, her eyes closed, her breathing quiet.

He didn't even know her name, but he had to save her. He had to save her, not only because she was the only glimmer of hope he had found in this dark world, but because when he looked at her, he felt a warmth in his chest that spread through his entire body. It made him believe that anything was possible. Even peace.

Chapter 14

Where to Look

The moon shown bright in the dark sky like a beacon in a storm. There was no storm tonight though; only a few clouds lazily drifted across the star-speckled sky and barely a breeze stirred the air in the city. Everything was calm, but Kortin could feel the tension brimming just under the surface, just out of sight from all those who didn't know where to look. Kortin, however, knew where to look. But I wish I didn't.

Kortin had been following his brother around all day, thinking about the change that had come over Tareth. There was definitely something different; Kortin could no longer think that maybe it was just his imagination. The attack on the bullies had proved that without a shadow of a doubt.

The evening after that incident, Kortin had been afraid the City Patrol would knock on their door, and Tareth would be thrown back in the Keep for nearly killing Loris and Prulk. But no one had shown up. The next morning, Kortin then began to worry that the bullies would try to take their own revenge and be waiting for Tareth right outside their living quarters, but again, nothing had happened. In fact, Tareth even seemed to be in a good mood and not worried at all that he'd have to watch his back for the rest of his life. Unless... those bullies aren't afraid of Tareth now, are they?

Kortin knew he was afraid of Tareth. He didn't want to be and he knew he shouldn't, but Kortin didn't even recognize his brother anymore. Instead, all he saw was a violent, malicious criminal who was planning something that wouldn't be good for anyone. The real Tareth might be buried somewhere deep inside this kid who resembled Tareth, but Kortin didn't know how to get his brother back.

So for now, all Kortin could do was wait and watch until he found some kind of solution. If there was a solution. There has to be, right?

Throughout the day, Kortin followed Tareth around without his brother knowing. It was the first time Tareth had left their living quarters since getting back from the Keep, and Kortin wanted to know what he was up to. Tareth had never minded Kortin tagging along in the past; Kortin didn't even have to ask because Tareth usually wanted him to come along and share in whatever mischievous deed he had in mind. But today was different.

Tareth told their mother he and Kortin were off to school, but as soon as they had gotten outside the building, Tareth turned away from the direction they took to school.

"Where are you going?" Kortin asked.

Tareth didn't even look back and just said over his shoulder. "I have a few things I need to take care of."

Kortin felt unnerved by the answer, for his brother, though an adept liar, had always been straight with him. But not this time. And that maybe was the reason, for the first time, Kortin asked, "Can I come with you?"

"Not today, little brother," Tareth called out before disappearing into the crowds of the morning traffic.

Kortin hadn't even wanted to go with Tareth, but of course, now that Tareth said he couldn't, Kortin immediately set off after his brother.

As the sun climbed into the sky, Kortin followed Tareth through the city, wondering where they were going. Tareth took them down back alleys and side streets, turning this way and that, which made it hard for Kortin to keep up and stay out of sight. Being bigger and taller, Tareth moved faster than Kortin, but Kortin could get through the crowds better, being as young and small as he was.

Then abruptly, after having wandered through the city with such purpose and speed, Tareth stopped. Kortin did as well, ducking into a doorway where he could still watch without being seen. They were were in the shadows of an alley, and at first, Kortin couldn't tell why his brother had stopped. But then Tareth kneeled down near the wall, and Kortin saw the boy sitting there. The boy was probably older than Tareth, but he was dressed in rags and his face and skin were covered in dirt.

Kortin tried to hear what Tareth said to the boy in rags, but he talked in a whisper. Kortin did see Tareth pull a piece of bread from his pocket and hand the food to this boy, who took it greedily and ate it quickly. The rest of their conversation didn't last long, and soon, Tareth was on the move once more. But now, the boy in rags was following on his heels.

Tareth didn't seem to notice, but like a starving dog, the boy trailed Tareth obediently, waiting for scraps. The only acknowledgement Kortin could see that Tareth knew he had company was he didn't move quite as quickly through the streets as he had before. Good.

They walked for another few minutes before entering another alley, but this one was a dead end and instead of having only a single kid, there were four and they were closer to Kortin's age than Tareth's. They had on rags as well, but they were on their feet; two were even wrestling each other. But as soon as Tareth walked into the alley, all four boys turned their attention suspiciously on the newcomer. Please, don't tell me Tareth has another pipe hidden somewhere.

Keeping his distance, Kortin watched this encounter from across the street, since the boy in rags hadn't even entered the alley and waited for Tareth just outside. There was definitely an anxious few moments as Tareth approached the four kids. Kortin could see that Tareth was talking to the kids, and though he didn't pull out a piece of bread this time, the kids were just as intent listening to what Kortin had to say. What is he telling them?

Then the moment was over, and Tareth left the alley with the boy in rags again in tow. The four kids didn't follow, but Kortin watched them huddle together in a serious conversation, obviously discussing what Tareth had said to them. Kortin considered going to ask the boys about the details of their encounter with his brother, but these kids looked like they might strip him of his belongings before he even got the question out of his mouth. Maybe Tareth picked up a reputation by beating up those bullies. I wonder if that was his intention all along.

Kortin watched his brother talk to several more groups of kids, as well as a couple more individuals, living in the shadows and side streets of the city. None followed him like the first kid had, but none chased him away either. By the afternoon, Kortin had lost track of how many people Tareth had talked to, and he was no closer to finding out what his brother was up to.

Finally, Kortin left Tareth and returned to their living quarters as if he had just gotten done with school. When his mother asked, Kortin responded truthfully and told her he didn't know why Tareth wasn't back yet. He did, however, remain silent on the fact that neither of them had attended school that day.

It didn't help, though, that Tareth didn't come home until supper time. By then their mother was quite upset and gave Tareth an earful about staying out without letting her know where he had gone. Tareth took the scolding silently and then sat down to the dinner table as if nothing had happened. Their mother threatened to not feed him, but Kortin didn't think that was much of a punishment, considering their supper was only a small bowlful of watery soup and one loaf of bread split between the five of them.

After dinner, one minute Tareth was in his room, casually lying on his bed, the next minute he was gone. He had somehow disappeared from the apartment entirely. Before his mother had finished tucking in his younger sisters and noticed Tareth's absence, Kortin slipped out the door as well with a pretty good idea where he'd find his brother.

Only a few minutes later, Kortin was once again climbing the ladder to the roof. He remembered Tareth's words to the bullies the day before and could only assume the purpose of Tareth's outing today had been to recruit kids to this new group he was forming. Kortin still didn't know what his brother had told these kids, so he wondered if anyone would show up. He almost hoped no one did, even if it meant Tareth would be vulnerable to the bullies revenge as he would be all alone. That might actually be better than whatever the alternative is.

But then Kortin reached the roof and saw that some of the kids had indeed shown up. There were perhaps a dozen boys gathered in a disjointed group in front of a fire burning brightly from an empty metal box laid on the rooftop. Tareth stood on the far side of the fire, his face lit ghastly from underneath. Some of the kids were talking among themselves in hushed voices as they stood in separate groups of two or three. Kortin recognized some of them from earlier in the day, including the boy in rags. Kortin also saw the bullies standing off to one side in the shadows; Prulk had a bandage wrapped around his head but neither looked like they wanted revenge. Maybe they are afraid.

Then, as if Kortin's presence was all Tareth had been waiting on, his eyes rose from the flames, and he began, bringing the rest of the boys to silence.

"Welcome, my friends."

Almost immediately, a small boy at the front spit on the ground. "I ain't your friend."

"No?" Tareth answered. "Why not?" He looked over everyone, waiting for a reply.

"Cause we don't know you," an older boy said.

"Yes, you do," Tareth returned. "You know me very well because I'm just like you. We're all the same. Whether living on the streets or in some squalor living quarters or under a crate, we're all struggling to survive."

"I ain't struggling," the small boy spoke up again.

Tareth now moved around to the side of the fire and spoke to the boy directly. "If you're not struggling then why did I find you in a filthy alley, fighting off rats for the last remains of someone else's garbage? If you're not struggling, why are you here tonight? Why are any of you here tonight?" he finished, raising his voice.

"Because you told us you could give us more," another kid said.

"No, I promised you. I promised you food and protection and safety and some kind of comfort in your lives for the first time. And you showed up because you want those things."

"But how can you give us that?" the older boy asked.

"I'm not. You are going to give it to yourselves." Tareth looked at each of them. "There are fourteen of us here. Fourteen. When I came to you today, I found you alone or maybe with one or two others to share in your plight. All of you are fighting for survival by yourselves. Fighting against each other because you want it all for yourselves. And yet at the end of the day you wind up with nothing. You wind up with the same ache in your belly. But what if we joined together? What if we could take what we want when we want it? What if we could become a force to be reckoned with?"

"But the grownups would never let that happen. The soldiers would stop us," someone voiced their concern.

"Will they? Who knows the streets better than us? Who knows this city better than the ones who actually live in its shadows? We will be like wisps of smoke. The soldiers won't be able to stop what they can not capture."

Some of the boys glanced at one another, mulling over what Tareth was proposing. And Kortin noticed, the kids weren't just looking at the ones they had come with; they were looking at everyone, trying to decide if they really could be one force together.

Then Tareth pulled a long dagger from the folds of his coat. The weapon gleamed in the light and a few boys even stepped away from it. "If you join me, you won't have to be afraid any longer. You don't have to be afraid because whoever has the power doesn't have to be afraid."

He held the dagger out over the flames, letting the blade turn red in the heat. "If you don't join me," Tareth started. As he did, Prulk and Loris stepped into the light, and Tareth pulled the dagger away from the flames, holding it up in the light. "Then all you will have is your fear."

The rooftops fell silent as everyone waited for someone else to make the first move. Only the crackling of the fire made any noise in the night. Kortin felt the tension and anticipation and turned his head up towards the sky, noticing the pale moon sitting peacefully in the darkness above. Everything seems calm, unless you know where to look.

Chapter 15

Healing

The barn doors swung open, and Lasinna's breath caught in her throat. The Innkeeper still lay unconscious beside her, his arm still burned black. She had no time to run, no time to get away. They're going to throw me in jail!

But the man who stepped into the flickering light of the fallen lantern did not hold the accusing and threatening look she had expected, considering she was laying next to a half dead body. This man instead looked at her with a puzzled expression, intrigued it seemed as he stared at her.

Then he asked, "How did you do that?"

Lasinna opened her mouth, all ready to blurt out some excuse in denial of the crime she had obviously committed. But then she realized the actual question this man had asked her. He hadn't asked her what had she done or why had she done it, but instead, how she had done it. This held her in silence, and the man stepped farther into the barn.

He was older than she'd originally thought now that she could see the grey hair mixed with the brown, as well as the slight wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. He had a small mustache that was almost completely grey, and he wore a long robe that dragged the ground. A Mage?

"You used Magick, didn't you?" he questioned. "I know you did, so don't try to deny it. But I must know how you did it. Surely, you've not had any teachings as a Mystic; you're too young. Though maybe they do things differently down here in the South. I don't come down here often, so I'm not certain of your customs. But I know you have not been to Isolan. That I'm sure of."

The man had walked all the way to the unconscious Innkeeper by this point, while Lasinna had merely stared, wondering who in the shadows was this man. At the mention of Isolan, however, Lasinna finally found her voice.

"You're from Isolan?"

"Oh, so you can talk," he answered kneeling down beside the Innkeeper. "But why should I answer you when you have not answered me?" he stopped in his study of the unconscious body to look at her.

Lasinna didn't know exactly what this man was after, but he hadn't thrown her in prison yet, so she figured she might as well as answer him. "I'm not sure how I did it."

"You did use Magick though, correct?" his eyes still held her gaze.

"I guess. I'm not sure. I think so."

"Well if this is how you are going to answer all my questions you might as well remain silent," he commented, turning his attention on the charred arm of the Innkeeper.

"I did use Magick," Lasinna said with a bit more confidence.

"Did you now?" he said, lifting the burned arm delicately. "And how do you know you used Magick? Have you used it before?"

Lasinna looked at the black arm. "No. But I'm certain that this was Magick."

"Well, of course, it was Magick. No simple fire would have done something like this. Now, tell me, was he holding you at the time?"

"Yes," Lasinna said guardedly, hoping she didn't have to go into why the Innkeeper had been holding her. Fortunately, it seemed as though this man didn't care about anything except the Magickal aspect of this whole scenario. I guess that's a good thing.

Lasinna, however, couldn't just concentrate on the Magick of this whole situation. She definitely wanted to figure out how she did manage to perform whatever spell she had done, but there were more pressing matters at the moment.

Mr. Surkit was still out there searching for her, and she didn't know how long her fake trail would keep him busy. The stable would be the first place he'd return to, and she could not be here when he came back. She had to speed things up.

"So I've answered your questions; will you answer mine now?"

"What do you wish to know?"

"Are you a Mystic?" she asked first.

"Did I not mention that already?" he answered, as if it wasn't a huge deal that she was talking to a Mystic.

But now that she knew he was actually a Mystic, she couldn't dance around the more important question, so she asked him directly, "Will you take me to Isolan?"

He looked up at her again, pausing for a moment. "That's a long trip," was all he said before going back to examining the arm. What kind of answer is that?

Lasinna was about to ask again, but Blawlo closed his eyes and began muttering under his breath. He spoke softly, and Lasinna couldn't make out what he was saying. But she knew he was in the midst of performing a spell. She had seen this before with her sister.

Lasinna also knew that there were two types of Mystics. There were those that considered themselves Healers and those that were Conjurers. A Healer, like Blawlo, specialized in curing people of illness and healing their wounds. A Conjurer, on the other hand, created spells that used Magick as a weapon to attack or defend. Lasinna had always wanted to be a Healer, so she could help her sister, but this incident with the Innkeeper might have already shown her where her natural abilities already lay. No, I will find a way to Heal my sister.

Suddenly, a spasm ran through the unconscious man, and his blackened arm shot straight into the air. Lasinna watched utterly transfixed as the charred skin slowly began to mend. At first, it was very gradual, but within moments, Lasinna could already see the new skin replace the severe burns, and before she knew it, there was no indication that there had been a burn at all.

The Mystic lowered the Innkeeper's arm back to the ground and then sat down himself. He breathed in deep as if catching his breath, and Lasinna noticed the sweat across his brow.

"Takes quite a bit out of you, especially Healing the kind of damage you did on him. Magickal wounds always seem to be more complicated than normal ones, it seems. At least, I knew the spell you attacked him with, or we might have had to been here a little longer than you would've wished. Of course, I'm not sure how you knew how to perform that particular spell, but we'll figure that out all in good time."

Lasinna tried to make sense of all that the man was saying, but finally, she just asked, "So you're taking me to Isolan?"

"I suppose I can't let a talent like yours go to waste." Then he looked at her with the most serious expression she had seen on him yet. "But you have to promise me you won't do anything like this again. You might have the talent to be a Mystic, but you're not one yet."

Ladinos nodded. "I promise."

"Then let's get going," the Mystic said, standing. "I have a wagon out back. You know how to hitch up a horse, right? I would have the Innkeeper do it, but obviously, he won't be able to help anyone for quite some time." The man then started for the doors of the stable without waiting for a response from Lasinna. "I'm Blawlo of Dunafel by the way. I think it's customary to introduce oneself, but sometimes I forget. Anyways best be hurrying on now. Long way to go."

The man disappeared out the doors of the stable, and Lasinna hurriedly scrambled to her feet. This Blawlo might be an odd one, but he was a Mystic. And more importantly, he was taking her to Isolan. Things are finally staring to look up.

Chapter 16

The Other Side

By late afternoon, Fyn and Stybs were exhausted. Luckily, the rain had stopped, and they were again moving in an easterly direction. But fear still gripped them; fear that the great serpent would return to finish them off. If not for that fear, though, they would have fallen to the ground a long time ago.

When the sun finally broke through the dark clouds above, Fyn and Stybs were just scrambling to the top of one of the countless rolling hills that composed the grasslands of Rolath. But once atop this gentle crest, they saw a sight that stopped them both. Spread out before them in the slight depression of a valley grazed a herd of curafs that stretched into the distance in all directions.

"Wow," Stybs said in awe.

Fyn nodded in agreement. They were both exhausted, but this was a sight neither of them had ever seen before, and they looked on in wonder.

But Fyn realized there was a problem. The herd was blocking the path they had to travel, and with no end in sight to the left or right, Fyn wasn't sure how they were going to get around it. Maybe we can just wait till they move out of our way.

"Let's make camp," Fyn decided. It was still a couple hours until nightfall, but after the hard trek they'd had that day along with the threat of the snake, he knew they could use the rest.

Stybs was too tired to disagree; fatigue had replaced any fear of the snake attacking again. Fyn honestly didn't think the great serpent would return now that it had been over six hours with no sign of it. He still wasn't sure if he'd be getting any sleep tonight though. What if the snake does come back?

They made camp just down the hill, out of sight from the herd of large cattle. The grass was clumped nicely next to a formation of rocks giving them as much protection as they could hope for. They built a small fire and ate only a handful of berries they had found along the way, which Fyn hoped weren't poisonous. He thought they looked similar to berries they'd had in the Burrow on occasion, but he couldn't be certain. They needed to eat something, though, to keep their strength up.

Since they'd lost all their food, reaching the ocean had become even more important. Fyn's family-brother had always told him about the abundance of food the ocean had to offer; some of which seemed so weird to Fyn he'd had trouble even imagining it. But he didn't care how strange any of it was going to be, for his stomach was grumbling just thinking about it.

Soon not even his hunger or his fear of the snake could keep him awake, and though the sun was just dipping below the horizon and their fire still burned, Fyn and Stybs both fell into a deep and much needed sleep.

Fyn didn't know how long he slept, but when he woke, the world was still dark. Only the dying embers remained of the fire, adding an orange glow to the pale light of the moon far overhead in the cloud-filled sky. Fyn didn't know what had pulled him from sleep, but he suddenly felt a chill run down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

He sat up cautiously scanning the area for any signs of danger, but the grass and boulders kept any visibility to only a few feet. Stybs was still sound asleep, snoring softly, as Fyn climbed to his feet and scrambled up the nearest rock to get a better vantage point. Now, he could at least see down the slope of the hill.

Only a slight breeze stirred the grass across the plains, and at first Fyn could see no other movement. But he knew there was something out there.

And then he saw it. A patch of grass moved against the wind. Fyn froze. The grass that moved was in a long trail that wound back and forth slowly. It took only a second for Fyn to see exactly what was coming for them. The serpent.

Fyn leapt from the boulder and ran to Stybs, shaking him awake as quickly as he could. Stybs opened his eyes drearily.

"What's go on? It's still dark," he muttered.

"The snake," fun whispered urgently. "We have to go now!"

The next instance Stybs was fully awake and stumbling to his feet. They had nothing to repack, but Fyn kicked dirt over the embers of the fire and patted it down to make sure everything was good and buried. The snake would know they had been there if it slithered across their camp, but at least now the warmth of the fire would not attract it's attention.

Fyn and Stybs made it to the top of the hill in only a few bounds, while trying to stay as silent as possible. As the made their way, Fyn hoped beyond hope that the herd would be gone by now because at this point, they had no choice. Either way, they'd have to get to the other side if they were going to escape the snake.

When they reached the top of the hill, Fyn's heart sank as he saw the herd still stretched out below them, now motionless and silent in the shadows of the night.

"How're we going to get past them?" Stybs asked anxiously.

"It'll be easier now that they're asleep," Fyn said, trying to sound confident. "We just have to be quiet and quick."

"What if they wake up?"

Fyn looked over at Stybs, who was staring right back at him. Fyn could just make out his brother's eyes in the dim light and the fear inside them. "Stay close. We'll get through this."

Fyn led them down the slope towards the herd up ahead. He kept glancing over his shoulder expecting to see the slithering form of the snake crest the hill and lock it's gleaming eyes on them. But for the moment the great serpent had not found their trail.

Soon the dark mass of the herd started to become individual forms of the sleeping herbivores, and Fyn realized just how big these creatures were. He felt Stybs tension beside him as they drew closer. One advantage Fyn saw, however, of his and Stybs' diminutive size was they could almost run under these beasts without even having to bow their heads. It would be more dangerous, but this way they wouldn't have to maneuver around the forms and could just pass underneath them. We might actually get through this.

But then Fyn glanced over his shoulder and saw the sight he had been dreading. Between the tall grass swaying at the top of the hill, a tongue flicked out and tasted the night air, searching for its prey.

Fyn's breath stopped as the head came into view next with its demon-like fangs and the piercing yellow eyes sitting just above. Those eyes spotted Fyn. A moment passed in seemingly complete stillness as Fyn's blood turned to ice. And then the snake shot forward. The grass gave way, flattening as if a great gust of wind had just blown in over the plains.

"Run!" Fyn yelled in panic, pushing Stybs forward.

Stybs tried to look back as well, but even without seeing the beast, he immediately dashed toward the waiting herd.

They had almost reached the sleeping animals when a single baying noise rose out from somewhere in the mass of creatures. A moment later another wailing call went out and then another. Within seconds the whole herd was awake and alert. And then they began to move. Like an avalanche on a mountaintop, the herd started slowly, but momentum accelerated them quickly.

Fyn and Stybs finally reached the herd, but they both hesitated on the edge of the dust and dirt the animals were kicking up. Do we dare enter a stampede?

Fyn glanced back to see if they had a choice, but the serpent answered that rather quickly. It was nearly upon them, lifting its vicious head above the grass ready to attack. Fyn immediately pulled Stybs into the moving legs of the curafs.

Luckily, the herd was not yet up to its full speed, which probably gave them just enough chance to survive. Fyn dodged this way and that as hooves fell from the sky and dust obscured his vision. He knew Stybs was beside him, but there was something else in the stampede. The serpent had not stopped.

The herd tried to jump away from the snake, terrified it would attack them, but the serpent seemed to only have eyes on Fyn and Stybs. Considering the circumstances, Fyn didn't think it mattered why the snake was so bent on them, but he had heard of creatures drawn to the power of Magick. And the two Naalyms could certainly use Magick. Though at the moment, Fyn didn't think he could use it effectively enough to save their lives as they ran through the mass chaos of the stampede. We do have other talents though.

Out of the corner of his eye, Fyn saw the snake lunge forward, its mouth open and fangs bared. Fyn instinctively grabbed Stybs. "Jump!"

Even with the chaos around them and ground vibrating with the movement of hundreds of curafs, the young Naalyms managed to get their feet under them and leap off the ground. The snakes mouth clamped shut under their feet as they flew into the air and landed awkwardly on the back of the nearest curaf.

The moving beast was anything but a stable platform to stand on forcing Fyn and Stybs to grab handfuls of fur and just hope they could hang on. Fyn saw that Stybs had his eyes shut tight, but Fyn looked back, wondering if the snake would make it out of the stampede alive. Either way they'd be carried much too far away for the snake to ever have a chance of catching up to them now. Fyn might have been hanging on for dear life, but he found a sense of relief sweep over him. And on top of that, Fyn managed to get his bearings and realized the herd was moving in an easterly direction. Maybe they'll just take us all the way to the ocean!

Finally, when the herd did stop several hours later the sun was just cresting the eastern horizon. Fyn still held tight and had stayed awake the entire time, but somehow Stybs had managed to actually get a few minutes of sleep.

Fyn didn't hear any call or sign of any kind, but suddenly, the herd slowed and eventually stopped completely. When they did, the curaf they had gotten a ride from finally decided it was time for them to get off. The creature looked over its shoulder at Fyn and Stybs and then bucked slightly. The Naalyms got the message and hopped off the animal. A few of the other curafs glanced in their direction, but they must have long ago realized that Fyn and Stybs were not a threat.

Even though they hadn't had to do the actual traveling, both Naalyms were tired and tripping over their own feet when they reached the top of a hill nearby. Fyn's first thought was to build a fire and settle in for the day. He wanted to keep them moving, but they had gone much farther on the back of the herd than they'd ever gone on foot. They could afford to take a break.

But atop the hill they looked out to the eastern horizon, and what they saw made them forget any tiredness completely. A few hills rolled away from them, but then abruptly the green of the grass stopped and a flat expanse of sparkling blue stretched out as far as either of them could see.

Stybs mouth dropped open and his eyes went wide in wonder. Fyn, meanwhile, felt tears fill his vision as he looked out at the seemingly endless water. And he thought of his family-brother. He thought of that first time he had left the Burrows. He thought if this ocean really existed there was no limit to what the world held. And if he could reach this ocean there was no place he couldn't go. The world is waiting.

