The night came just like it always did - a sudden icy breeze followed by the ascent of the moon and her starry blanket. Castle Shyr and the Shyriol villages were nestled peacefully within the valley of Nhor and Ghalale, dusk setting upon them like an unwelcome yet civil companion. The bright torches aflame along the castle walls kept the village illuminated even in the darkest nights, flooding the Nanion with a sense of security. Nightfall was not so kind to all of the world, however, and none felt it’s wrath more than those straining to thrive in the swamps of Tevlar. The shadowed villages and cities near to the Castle Tevlar were always shrouded in darkness, it was a place where not even the sun could reach, but nightfall was as obvious here as anywhere else. The shadows turned from a dull gray to an inky black, the air took on a deadly chill, the fog seemed to rise from the ground like a ghost, and the sky was filled with the cry of the Ju’agul. Amidst the chaos of the Tev settling for the night, locking their doors and pulling on their warm clothes, Castle Tevlar remained undaunted - the King of shadows in the dark valley. It seemed a dead and deserted place, a barren wasteland where no life was sustained, but the castle’s interior was inhabited in the same mysterious way as the rest of the swamp, by the race who lived on when they should have died out. A solitary race by nature, the Tev kept to themselves whenever possible, even within the presence of other Tev, and it made Castle Tevlar seem like an empty, desolate place when it was by far the most densely populated of all the Four Castles.

On this particular night Castle Tevlar was unusually busy, the Tev flanked each other in the halls as they strove to gather their armor and weapons in preparation for another attack. The lower hallways were empty, save one - the hall which seeped into the dungeon. The two figures slithering down the hallway were masked by the dripping shadows of chains and the flames from dimly lit torches, casting ghastly images across their faces. Despite the blanket of blackness over their feet, they never once stumbled or hesitated; they walked with steps practiced in the absence of light; they were Tev – brethren with the darkness.

The leading figure, shorter of the two, was named Izca, and he carried a dying torch ahead of him to illuminate the hall which steeped further and further into pitch blackness. The majority of the time the prisoners that Castle Tevlar held were Tev themselves, men and women who had angered the King, however on rare occasions a Nanion popped it’s way into the dungeons, and in these cases all the torches in the hall were snuffed out. When torture failed to yield answers from the light-skinned beings, the smoldering lightlessness always broke them down. Izca wasn’t a frequent visitor to the dungeons, but he knew what kind of tortures his fellows carried out and he marveled at how anyone could stand silent against such horrors.

The footsteps echoing Izca’s belonged to Mordecai, a high ranking soldier in King Valagor’s army - a halfling who was in such favor he was nearly the King’s right hand man. Despite his unchallengeable position, the source of the halfling’s esteem was a wide river of rumours. King Valagor was not a modest (nor incredibly sane) man, and made open declarations of his hatred for Nanion whenever he had the chance, however he preferred Mordecai above his purebred Tev soldiers. It was something his men just could not understand. There were a small number of soldiers who believed that Mordecai inherited some hidden power from his mother’s Nanion blood, but in fear of King Valagor overhearing their praising of the race, they kept their mouths shut. The most ridiculous of all the rumors was most likely the closest to the truth, for some believed that the King continued to boost Mordecai’s rank in order to set the halfling up for assassination. The reason none of the rumors could be declared true fell onto another suspicious aspect of Mordecai’s treatment: he was more like an assassin than a soldier, no one ever accompanied him on his ‘missions.’

There was a sudden snap from a nearby room, then the silence lingered in again, made more uncomfortable with the small remembrance of noise dying away. Izca found himself risking small, feverish glances at the halfling from over his shoulders, quickly snapping his eyes away when he saw the muscles twitch in Mordecai’s face, praying that he’d turn quick enough to avoid the other’s gaze. Mordecai had not been known to kill at random, just for the pleasure of it like some of the other soldiers, but something in his face said he wanted to, and it made all around him uneasy. Izca recalled the previous night when Mordecai had silenced a whole group of rowdy, drunken soldiers with a simple glance at them from over his plate; later the men said that Mordecai’s eyes were like daggers but sharper than any sword they’d ever brandished.

Mordecai kept his eyes ahead of him, trying to ignore Izca’s glances, but they were beginning to unnerve him. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it just as quick, deciding it was better to remain silent. However he kept tossing the words back and forth in his mind, trying them out as he opened his mouth two more times, still unsure of the good they would do.

“Third cell on the left,” he barked suddenly, his voice startling him as it hit the walls and slammed itself around the hall. He watched as Izca started slightly, and almost looked at him from over the torch. “I assumed you were lost,” he continued, his voice growing irritated on it’s own, “seeing as how you kept looking back at me.” He raised his eyebrows ever so slightly as he heard Izca mutter something in reply, then quicken his pace and drop his head. Few things irritated Mordecai more than that, the way people treated him as if he were better than them, it was a spiteful kind of respect. He was not better than them: he was young, younger than he looked, inexperienced despite his occupation, and dirty; a halfling outcast in the halls which questioned him and his presence within.

Izca stumbled a bit, then turned to the aforementioned cell and reached for the large set of keys dangling from his neck. Knowing Mordecai was behind him after being addressed in such a way did nothing to help the Tev’s failing nerves: He kept dropping the chain as he searched it for the master key, knowing he’d never find the one made for this particular cell. The idea of the mysterious halfling just standing silently behind him made Izca’s heart race, made the hair on his arms stand on end.

“Is there a problem, Izca?” Mordecai growled shortly, becoming increasingly displeased with his guide’s level of ineptitude. He saw the shorter Tev start, and instead of smirking or poking fun at the Tev’s nerves as some of his more sinister fellows would have, he merely continued to stare ahead, stone-faced.

“N-no,” Izca coughed after a moment, clearing his throat and continuing to fiddle with the keys. The fleeting thought of a dagger poised and ready behind him made his stomach twirl, and he dropped the key he’d been holding.

“Move.” Mordecai snarled, patience all but gone as he lifted a hand and forcibly moved Izca to the side. He heard the Tev make a small noise as he obediently pushed himself against the wall, but paid it no mind. From the vast folds of his dark robe, Mordecai produced one of his small, scythe-curved daggers, and placed it atop the lock’s holding chain. He studied the arrangement for a moment, tilted his dagger, then with the suddenness and power of a bolt of lightning, hefted up his weapon and heaved it downwards, slicing the chain in half. He stepped back, catching the lock before it hit the ground and replacing his dagger as the chain clanked to the floor. He held the lock out for Izca, and nearly tossed it at the Tev as he fumbled to lift his hands.

“May I?” The halfling continued in a voice rough from little use, “Or will I be forced to wait for you to stumble in there and introduce me?” Receiving nothing from Izca but a slack jaw, Mordecai stepped into the doorway with an uninterested look upon his sharp, bird-like features. He scanned the room with his cold, silver/black eyes until he saw the figure huddled in the corner.

Having been woken harshly from her nightmare by the sound of a chain clanking to the ground, Rylee had scuttled into the nearest corner and pulled herself into the tightest ball she could manage, not sure if she was hiding from real monsters, or just the ones in her dream. Her attempts to hide from either proved useless, and she knew it well as a slim beam of light shot into the room. Her breath caught in her throat and she turned her head away, the small dash of light hurting her eyes, which had become so accustomed to the darkness. After a moment she began to squint at the doorway, trying to make out the ominous shadow before her. She began to shake in fear as the figure took a step forward, and calmed only slightly when she saw no crown atop his head, and ears that pointed to the sky like a Nanion’s.

“Get up,” Mordecai said in a listless tone, stepping further into the room, “King Valagor wishes to speak with you. You can come on your own,” Mordecai said with a sharp exhale, watching the girl push herself further into the corner, “or I will make you.” There was no emphasis, no emotion in his voice: It was as clear as the threat it carried.

Rylee shook her head again, a strong gesture as she used the wall to push herself to her feet. She’d known by his shadow that it was Mordecai who had come so coldly to fetch her, and the eleven year old was deeply hurt. Though the life of a prisoner was the only one she’d ever known, Rylee continued to fight and resist in hope that perhaps there was such a thing as happiness.

“M-mordecai..” She whimpered as he started towards her, but the halfling neither hesitated nor stumbled, he merely continued to descend upon her like a vulture. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Castle Shyr will fall at his feet!

‘Castle Tevlar will crumble at his touch!

‘He of simple ways, but noble birth,

‘He in a land not his own, he the orphan child.

‘He unaware of that which fate holds for him.

‘A mistake long forgotten, will rise from the shadow,

‘A six which is a seven will be our unknown threat.” Her last sob dying off into the air, Rylee fell to her side with a crack as hollow as her voice. She curled up as tight as she could on the cold floor and folded her arms over her head as if she could have vanished.

There was a light chuckle from the darkest corner of the room, where two figures resided; one seated in a high throne, the other standing, as if on guard, at the King’s side.

“Mordecai,” came the slick and terse voice from under the crown.

“Yes, my king?” Mordecai said, spite hidden in his words but leaking from his eyes.

“I have another assignment for you.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He reached out desperately for the glittering blue object, but it gave something like a haughty laugh and continued to flit about, just out of his reach. Rhinwyn couldn’t recall exactly why he was chasing the fae, but something in him wanted it, and so he kept on slowly, unsure of his footing.

“Hey, you!” The fae sighed, bouncing on springs invisible to the Nanion.

“Wha-?” Rhin muttered in an almost incoherent slur, knitting his eyebrows together as the world began to fade and swirl in a mass of stormy colors.

“Rhinwyn!” The fae spoke again, its voice not so happy and charming as before, now quick and sharp. Rhin reached up to rub his eyes, perhaps if he could see it, he could figure out what it wanted.

“Get up already, ya lazy bum!”

“Wha-oof!” Rhin coughed as he was suddenly jolted from his bed, thanks to his roughly pulled blankets. He landed amidst the crumpled sheets and made a dull thump against the ground, further jarring him awake. He blinked, looking up at Tillie with a vaguely blank, startled expression.

“Ya slept in,” The Nanion-woman explained, frail hands resting on bony hips. “Now get up and get movin’.” She ordered, though her elderly face gave way to a slightly kind and knowing smile. “And put some clothes on, dawn-bird, t’ain’t summer just yet.” The boy Nanion gave her a little blush as she turned, chuckling to herself.

Rhin sat up a bit as Tillie turned back down the hall, wiping her hands on her sullied apron. The boy gave a stiff yawn, broken a bit by a smile (dawn-bird indeed), and leaned forward to rest his chin on the bed, folding his hands atop the gathered sheets in his lap. His dream was quickly fading, dripping from memory like sand through fingers, and though he was willing to entertain the possibility of it having been a good one, he had the paranoid, leftover fright feel of a nightmare. Deciding that it simply wasn’t worth it to fret, he closed his eyes sleepily and began fishing around in the cloth for his pants, adding a second yawn to the morning’s repriotare. He forced his eyes open again as he found the elusive pants and stood with a stretch, facing the curtained window, letting the sheets ball at his feet.

Kyin let out a giggle from the doorway, but broke into laughter as Rhin let out a gasp, his whole body turning a light pink color, and turned to face her, trying to conceal himself with only the thin pants in his hands.

“Good mornin’,” She chuckled cheerfully, tucking a curly blond lock behind a tall, pointed ear.

“Uh, right,” Rhin mumbled making for quite a comic sight as he tried to grab the sheets from the floor without bending over too far. “Don’t you, um, knock?”

“Yeah, normally.. But your door was open, and I didn’t think you’d be, well-“ She paused to giggle again, blushing herself as Rhin finally managed to pick up the sheets. She raised her eyebrows in amusement as he wrapped them over his waist, then hobbled towards the door, careful not to step on any slack.

“It was hot,” Rhin stated simply, looking down at the girl, as he was a good head taller, and reaching for the doorknob. “I’ll be down for breakfast when I’m dressed.”

“We’ve already had breakfast, sleepyhead.” Kyin chuckled, giving him a wave before scampering down the hallway in her dusty brown sundress.

Rhin sighed and closed the door, turning his back to it and dropping the sheets for another stretch. He thought again about the odd feeling he’d woken up with, now a bit unnerved at his late rising. In the whole fifteen years he’d lived with Kyin’s family, he’d never once woken too late for breakfast, and it bothered him that he’d done so when he hadn’t even been out late the previous night. Pulling on his pants and a baggy white shirt, managing to straighten his long head of fire-red hair, he turned, opened the door, and began downstairs. He wasn’t surprised to see Alric, Kyin’s father, in the den, sharpening his sword. Alric had fought in some war years ago, and though he returned safe and healthy, the daily routine had been burned into his mind. Upon further inspection, Rhin discovered Tillie in the kitchen, her culinary skills sending warm, delicious wafts of honeycake through the house. Feeling a bit sheepish at missing breakfast, he walked in quietly, hoping to sneak past her without being noticed.

Tillie raised a barely visible eyebrow as the sneaking fifteen-year-old attempted to slip past her, but found the loudest floorboard in the kitchen. She turned, bowl of cake mix on her hip, and cleared her throat, reaching up to rub the back of her free hand across her forehead, dripping cake batter to the floor in the process. She tried to hold a stern expression as she met Rhin’s dazzling red/gold eyes (a color to match his hair), but she was a kind woman at heart, and a smile soon graced her work-weary face.

“Come here and take a few crackers, dawn-bird,” She chuckled, watching a smile form on Rhin’s own lips. “Just mind Alric doesn’t see you.”

Rhin nodded as he took a few crackers and headed outside with a smile. There was no doubt in his mind that Tillie was the nicest woman in the world, always working but never complaining, always patient, and always breaking into a smile when she was trying to look serious. She had no reason to accept a newborn babe from a dark-cloaked stranger fifteen years ago, but she did. She named the child, fed him, clothed him, taught him, and loved him, all before the birth of her own child. Rhin looked up longingly at the sky, squinted a bit at the bright, welcoming sun, and let out a sigh of contentment.

“Phweeeeeet!” Johan doubled over in laughter, taking the flute from his lips as Rhin jumped nearly a foot into the air, landed, stumbled, and fell to his backside in the dirt. The flute player finally calmed himself and reached out to help Rhin up, twirling the brass object in his free hand. He flashed a charming smile and gave Rhin’s arm a pat once the other Nanion was standing.

“Kyin told me you slept in, I figured you could use a bit of help waking up the rest of the way. I didn’t expect you to try and take flight though!” Deep blue eyes sparkled mischievously from under Johan’s light green hair as he studied Rhin’s less-than-impressed expression.

“Everything ok, Rhinwyn?” He asked in an odd voice, the creases of a frown appearing strange on his happy face. Rhin wasn’t normally this quiet around Johan, not even in the morning.

“Oh, yes,” Rhin began, heaving an exaggerated sigh and dropping his shoulders dramatically. “Just thinking about how quiet my walk to the well is going to be.”

“Oooh no!” Johan said quickly, raising his hands in defense against Rhin’s pleading, pouting eyes (balancing his flute expertly between two fingers). “I am not falling for that again. It‘s your own fault you woke up so late, Rhinwyn, I‘ve already done my chores, and I‘m not about to scamper around behind you while you try and catch up on yours.” He crossed his arms over his chest, propping up his foot on a stump as Rhin turned and picked up the water pole. He shook his head firmly and tilted it back to look down his nose at the redhead while Rhin squared the pole over his shoulders, draping his arms over it.

“What do you have to do that’s so important anyway, Johan?” Rhin chuckled as he walked past his friend to the dusty dirt road, giving the pole a light sway, tapping the right bucket into Johan’s shoulder.

“I’ll have you know I have a full day ahead of me.” Johan retorted, trying to sound indignant as he turned to watch Rhin start down the path to the forest.

“That so? Is Zeva feeling better then?”

“Hey! It’s not my fault she caught my cold.”

“Come on, Johan!” Kyin shouted merrily as she ran out from behind the house, taking up pace next to Rhin. “Don’t be such a squishberry! I did my chores extra fast this morning so I could go!” She said, adding a delighted spin which flared out her dress.

“So go!” Johan chuckled with a shrug and a ‘move-along’ push to the air. “Nobody’s stopping you - if you want to spend your afternoon trailing the dawn-bird, be my guest.”

“But the princess and her knight need music while they travel!” Kyin whimpered, clasping her hands together and looking over her shoulder at Johan.

“Yeah,” Rhin said, knowing from the start that he’d somehow talk Johan into coming, “we can’t travel in silence.” He gave Kyin a bit of a wink.

“Why am I always the bard?” Johan sighed, even though he smiled and caught up with the two. “Can’t I be someone more.. Important?”

“You could be the jester.” Rhin suggested, sidestepping off the path to dodge a smack.

“Or, oh! Or you could be the musical dragon!”

“The what, Kyin?” Rhin asked as he looked over to Kyin, clapping her hands together with a wistful smile.

“Who’s the only one of his kind with a heart, so he’s a lonely outcast whose only friend is music!”

“You should learn to write, Kyin. You know how many stories that imagination could spurn you?”

“Oh, you really think so Rhin?”

“Know so.”

“All dragons have hearts, blossom.” Johan added, slowly bringing his instrument to his thin lips. “What shall I play?”

“Something happy!”

Rhin found himself slipping into a slight daydream as Johan began picking into a quick, happy tune. The day seemed too perfect, the sky was too blue, the weather too nice, the grass too green, Rhin began to suspect something was wrong, things shouldn’t have been so perfect, but then again he had always been a worrier. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Johan, skipping merrily down the path, holding the flute so lightly Rhin didn’t know how he kept it in the air. The Nanion felt a slight tug at his waist and looked down at Kyin, who was trying to move under his arm, but needed Rhin to shift so she could do so. He smiled kindly and lifted the pole a bit, nearly whacking himself in the head with the raised left bucket, but figured it was worth it as Kyin wrapped an arm over his waist and gave a dreamy dove-sigh. He caught Johan’s eyes, and stuck his tongue out at the flute-player when the other raised his eyebrows in question.

The walk to the well wasn’t far, but the old wooden bridge that spanned across the quick flowing River Jir made watching your feet a necessity. Kyin had heard talk that the bridge was built by the first dwellers in Crawyn Valley, as a means of escape should they be attacked, and it seemed like a good idea to her: The bridge let out to a small clearing (which now held the well), bordered by a thin row of trees which led right to a pass through Votoc Mountains. Kyin’s only problem with the tale was how unsteady the bridge was, hung like a hammock between the two shores, missing the side rope-guards, and housing some particularly treacherous boards. However it was a very old bridge and Kyin hoped it had been stronger and safer when it had been built.

“Be careful, Rhin.” Kyin said worriedly, peeling away from Rhin to walk behind him and turning to look over her shoulder at Johan as he stopped playing and moved in behind her, forming a single file line. The bridge was easily wide enough for the three of them to walk side-by-side, but with the two buckets swinging from Rhin’s shoulders, and the drop far enough for serious injury, they didn’t chance it.

“Kyin.. Kyin! Hole.” Johan yelped in slight agitation, reaching out and gently steering her to the side by her shoulder. “Stop starin’ at Rhin,” he whispered, leaning down towards her ear and smiling as she blushed bright red, “and watch where you’re puttin’ your feet!” He straightened back up, watching her blush slowly fade and twirling his flute for a second before he caught himself, and gripped the instrument securely in one hand. One of the only things he prided himself on was his skill with the flute, but no one was perfect, and should he drop it and it fall over the side, or between two boards, it would no longer be his flute, but the River’s. No matter how much of a risk taker Johan claimed to be, he would not ever risk his flute.

Rhin let out a slightly relieved breath as he stepped off the bridge, well now in plain sight. He knew the bridge fairly well (probably better than the rest of the village), but walking with the pole balanced on his shoulders made it nearly impossible for him to look down at where he was stepping, so the trek across the bridge, no matter how short or familiar, always gave his heart a good jolt. Happy to have his feet again on solid ground he gave a little hop, and skipped towards the well, letting the pole slide to the ground, barely making a sound as it hit the soft grass. He stretched lightly, and frowned a bit at the stiffness in his shoulders, realizing that his body was quite angry with him: sleeping in late, waking up in a less than desirable fashion, not having a proper breakfast, falling, then lifting and walking; He would be quite sore tomorrow. He began to rub his shoulders gently, turning his head to watch as Kyin skipped towards a small patch of flowers.

“Looks like you’re not the only one who doesn’t want to work.” Rhin turned to look at Johan, a bit confused, as the flute player put the instrument back to his lips and pointed to a tree with the tip of it, already playing and not daring to busy his fingers with pointing. Rhin lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, scanning the leaves and branches of the tree for whatever it was Johan had pointed at. He saw a quick rustle of leaves and took a small step forward, squinting to get a better view. In one of the hollow knots of a branch sat a small figure, genderless, sporting huge wings (huge compared to the rest of its body), and a surreal blue glow: a fairy. It had its chin in its hands and the most annoyed expression Rhin had ever seen on its tiny face. Upon further inspection Rhin discovered the reason for the face, for on a higher branch stood a second fairy, a light purple in color, hands on its hips and shouting in a squeaky voice, which sounded a good deal like a bell or a wind chime.

“I wonder what she’s saying?” Kyin mused softly, continuing her search for flowers near the base of the tree: she was intending to make a wreath later, for the door to the kitchen.

“How do you know it’s a she, Kyin?” Rhin answered lightly, turning with a slight sigh back to the well to finish his chore. He moved as if to step on Johan, (lazily laying on his back in the grass, flute to his lips) but feigned at the last second, and chuckled at the trill he received.

“The way she’s standing and the way she sounds.” Kyin replied in the whimsical story-telling voice she knew Rhin enjoyed. “She’s light on her feet and she sounds like a bell.”

“Oh,” Rhin said lightly, wondering if she knew that for sure or if she’d just thought it up, not that it really mattered to him anyway, he enjoyed Kyin’s on the spot stories just as much as Tillie’s old tales and legends. He hoisted the well’s tethered bucket over the opening and then, with a smirk, released it, listening as a loud splash echoed through the stonewalls. He moved to bring the bucket back up but froze, startled, as he heard something of a squeak bounce up from the bottom. His first thought was of rats, but he knew how hard an infestation would hit the slightly poverty-stricken village and pushed it from his thoughts, turning to look at Johan.

“It squeaked.” He explained, seeing Johan had noticed his pause. The flute player merely raised his eyebrows, still confused.

“The well squeaked?” Johan chuckled, lowering his flute and pushing curly grass-colored hair from his eyes.

“No, I mean.. Something in the well must have squeaked.” Johan pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and an exasperated sigh then walked up to the well to stand next to Rhin. Both Nanion were trying not to let their slight anxiety show, so they leaned bravely over the side of the well, gripping the edges with whitening knuckles. There was a moment of tense silence, (during which Kyin turned to curiously watch the boys, eyebrows raised in question) before something at the bottom of the well caught their eyes, and made them lean further over. They couldn’t make it out, and in truth couldn’t figure out how exactly they could see it; there was no light, and the only thing they really could see was the outline of something jumping about sporadically, almost as if it was trying to fly.

“What’re you two looking at?” Kyin said cheerfully, then pulled an apologetic face as they both gave a start and looked at her reprimandingly. That was the second time that day she’d snuck up on someone without meaning to, if only she could do that when she wanted to, instead of by accident.

“There’s something moving at the bottom of the well, and we’re trying to see what it is.” Rhin explained lightly, turning to look back at the well as Kyin moved to stand at his left, peering in herself. He chanced a look at Johan, whose face was a combination of dying shock from Kyin’s surprise visit, and light confusion.

“Why don’t you just bring up the bucket?” Kyin supplied absently, rising to her toes to get a better view of the frantic thing, her curiosity piqued. She was too busy squinting at the object to notice the ‘why-didn’t-we-think-of-that’ looks exchanged between Johan and Rhin. At first she thought the object could have been a fairy, but if it was, it was a very, very, VERY sick fairy to not only be stuck in a well, but to have such a non-existent glow.

“It could be frightened and hostile, whatever it is,” Johan said after a moment as the trio took a step back and studied each other, “which is why Kyin and I will stand behind you, Rhin, while you bring up the bucket.”

“Gee, thanks,” Rhin mumbled, rolling his eyes as Johan gave Kyin a wink, and they both began to chuckle. “Just be prepared to hit it with something if it comes after me.” He sighed, beginning to roll up his sleeves, though it was mostly for show because the soft sleeves would soon slip down his arms.

“Don’t count on it, Prince Rhinwyn,” Johan laughed lightly, “we bards abhor the use of violence.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be a bard?”

“And I have bad aim.” Supplied Kyin with a small shrug, smiling as Rhin looked at her incredulously.

“Ok, ok, stop making excuses and get behind me then.” Rhin relented, smacking Johan on the shoulder as the musician steered Kyin behind the redhead gently. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” Rhin muttered, more to boost his own confidence than anything, and began rubbing his hands together, watching the taunt rope as it jerked slightly. He reached out for the rope, trying to ignore the two behind him, mimicking his movements but keeping well out of harm’s way, but paused as the squeak came again, and the rope jerked roughly to the side. He gave it another few seconds, ignoring Kyin’s small noise of protest, then reached out and grasped the rope, which seemed much rougher today than it had yesterday, but he tried not to pay attention to it, he was just imagining things. He began to tug back, hauling up the bucket slowly, and realized, with a mixture of satisfaction and fear, that whatever it was they had seen and heard was definitely in the bucket, for it swayed and rocked on the end of the rope. He could feel Kyin and Johan’s nervousness from behind him, and it wasn’t helping. His movements were jerky and stiff, which he was sure wasn’t going to help any, as it would probably only anger the creature more, but there was nothing he could do about it, and he tried to listen to the part of his mind which was saying that whatever it was had to be quite small to fall into a well. With one final tug the tip of the bucket appeared over the side of the well, and with only a short gasp from Kyin, the elves held their breath.

“Chee!”

“Ahh!”

“Uh!”

“Ow!” With one shriek the wet squirrel in the bucket managed to send all three Nanion to their rumps in the grass, and the bucket back to the bottom of the well as the rope was released. It blinked at them from where it stood on the rim of the stone wall, sopping wet with its huge bottlebrush tail drooping behind it, until the splash from the bucket startled it, and sent it dashing across the field and up into a tree.

“Geeet off!” Johan grumbled, pushing Rhin’s back, for the other Nanion had fallen in Johan’s lap and forced the musician to land uncomfortably on his flute. He stood quickly as Rhin walked over to help up Kyin, and removed the instrument from his pocket worriedly for inspection, nearly holding his breath. After a minute of running his hands over the smooth brass he let out a relieved sigh, finding no dents and only a few scratches, then looked up to Kyin, who was brushing off, and Rhin, who had again approached the well.

“That damned squirrel almost cost me my flute.”

“Johan!” Kyin yelped, covering her mouth with her delicate hands, as her eyes grew wide.

“Sorry Kyin, but I take attacks to my flute offensively.”

Rhinwyn shook his head with a small smile as he hoisted the full bucket back up once more, and filled one of the ones he’d carried up.

“Do you think the poor thing’s ok?”

“I’m sure he’s –uh- fine, Kyin.. Just scared.”

“And wet, so he’ll be easy to follow…” Johan growled slightly, cradling his flute like an infant.

“Yes, and wet.”

“And tired, so he’ll be easy to catch and-“

“Johan, you are not going after the squirrel.” Rhin said as he dropped the bucket for the final time and turned to look at his companions, rubbing his slightly sore hands on his pants for a moment. He bent over and wrapped his hands firmly over the pole, lifting it and laying it behind his neck, then tensed up and prepared to stand with the added weight.

“Look! The boy fairy came down from the tree! He must have heard all the commotion.” Kyin whispered excitedly, pointing at the field where she’d left a few scattered flowers, one of which now held the previously sulking fairy on splayed petals. Indeed he seemed quite intrigued by the Nanion, he was watching them very intently, one hand to his mouth, the other at his side while his wings lightly beat at the air. Kyin looked over at Johan and flashed him a smile, clasping her hands together in front of her and swaying a little, batting her eyelashes.

“Johan, would you please play a song for him?”

“Yeah, maybe if you play-“ Rhin paused as he stood with a grunt, teetering for a moment before he found his balance again, the weight of both buckets now resting on his shoulders, “that squirrel will come back.” He turned and started towards the bridge with a grin at the sarcastic ‘Ha ha’ he’d received, walking slow and being extremely careful as to where he placed his feet.

Johan looked over at Kyin and sighed as if she’d just asked him to carry her across the bridge, though a grin split his face; he loved to play, and any excuse to do so was readily accepted. He lifted the cool brass to his lips, positioned his fingers, took a deep breath, then let it out: only to have it come back immediately, puffing out his cheeks and popping his ears. He quickly lowered the instrument and twirled a finger in his ear agitatedly, ignoring the laughter from the bridge with a scowl.

“What’s wrong?” Kyin asked lightly, walking over and giving Johan a strange look, touching the flute curiously.

“I think there’s some dirt clogged up in the end,” Johan muttered, lifting the flute up to the sky and closing one eye to look into the small opening. He gave up after a moment and shrugged lightly, looking first at Kyin, then the fairy.

“Sorry you two, but I can’t play this thing until I get it cleaned, and I can’t do that here.”

Rhin smiled as he neared the center of the bridge and looked over his shoulder at his two companions.

The day, he thought again bitterly, was too perfect. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There!” Johan yelped delightedly, leaning forward to put all four of his chair legs on the floor.

“There what?” Rhin said in a rather drowsy tone, turning to look from his crumpled position on the table to the flute player at his side. He jerked slightly as a brightly polished flute was shoved in his face. He reached up and moved as if to push it away, but Johan beat him to the punch and quickly withdrew his instrument, holding it out in front of his baby blue eyes with pride.

“It’s all clean.” He said with a sigh as if inspecting a child. “And ooh, what a shine.”

“It’s taken you this long to clean your flute?” Rhin asked in a slightly awestruck voice, sitting up in his chair and giving his friend a strange look. “Was there a bird nest in there?” He said with a chuckle, stretching out his slightly stiff arms.

“Oh Rhinwyn, you poor boy. Clearly you do not understand the sweet subtleties of cleaning one’s instrument.” Johan said with a hint of pity in his voice, holding his flute to his heart and looking up at the sky as if asking for help from the Gods.

“Clearly.”

“One must treat their instrument like a child, like another living being. When you respect it, it will respect you. If you don’t, you’ll have this sort of parasitic relationship where you’re just using the instrument as a tool, and then the only music you’ll produce will be like the sounds of a boar in mating season.”

“Uh, thanks for that… I think.” Rhin snickered, then turned his head to dodge a smack and call over the waitress, as both boys were nearly done with their drinks. The sounds of the full inn soon drowned out their thoughts, and their attention was caught by the steadily rising din in the air. All of Crawyn called it the center inn, though it was far from the center of the village. It was simply the one place that felt like ‘home,’ where anyone and everyone was welcome any time of the day or night. On cold winter evenings the people would gather to hear old stories, while on musky summer nights they were entertained by drunken comrades, dancing until they fell over. Normally Johan, Kyin and Rhin were outside on nights like this, preferring to run amok in the streets to being locked up with the adults; however Kyin had, for some reason, convinced both of them to join her at the inn.

“How come she’s the only one having fun?” Muttered Johan as he finished a sip of his drink and set down his cup to look over at Rhin. He turned his head back towards the crowd, still unable to find Kyin. She’d been dancing since they arrived, every now and again she’d come ask Rhin to dance with her, but he’d decline, and she’d hop back out like nothing had happened.

“Because she’s a wild spirit, Johan.” Rhin answered quietly, folding his hands behind his head and closing his eyes lightly.

“Yeah… and what’s that got to do with her having fun when we don’t?”

“Well, she’s.. Free. I suppose. I mean, she can dance with the flowers, who don’t judge her, and be happy, and she can dance with the people, who do judge her, and be just as happy as when she’s with the flowers. Nothing gets to her.. She’s- I don’t know, free.” Rhin finished with a shrug, reaching for his goblet.

“Rhin,” Johan started, touching the other boy’s goblet to stop him from picking it up. “It’s no wonder you treat her like a sister, you’ve got your head too far in the clouds to notice anything!”

Rhin paused, a light confusion on his face as he let his hand lay on the table and gave his head a shake.

“What do you mean?” He asked with a small, apologetic shrug.

“She’s crazy about you, Rhin! Head-over-heels in love!” Johan chuckled, slapping his knee as Rhin’s face palled. He calmed a bit as the redhead shook his head vigorously, dropping his eyes to the table, then reached out for his goblet with another sharp shake of his head.

“What gives you that idea, Johan?” He said taking a sip then laughing, though his cheeks were flushed a bright red. “She- Kyin’s my little sister, not my girlfriend.” He finished, becoming a tad more serious and looking over at Johan, his expression changing slightly as he noticed the raised eyebrow look Johan gave him. “What now?”

“She’s only your sister, Rhin, because her parents raised you. Technically you aren’t related.” Johan took another sip of his drink and sighed, setting it down as he noticed Rhin’s expression changed again, this time into one of confusion. “Look Rhin, I-“ But he paused quickly as he noticed that Rhin wasn’t looking at him, but past him. He turned his head in the direction his companion was looking, and stiffened a bit at the odd sight which greeted him. The old innkeeper, Etn, was standing nervously at the door, waving someone in while looking over his shoulder as if waiting for someone to attack. He seemed to be talking in a hushed, hurried tone, and even though neither of the boy’s could hear him, they could tell by the way he moved that it was something urgent.

Rhin took a quick glance around and noticed almost immediately that no one else in the inn seemed to have taken notice to the scene at the door. He turned his attention back to Etn just in time to see the old man wave in three other Nanion. Two were from the village, Rhin recognized them quickly, but the man they were helping stand, the man draped between them like a wet cloth, was a stranger. Rhin made a small noise and pulled his bottom lip into his mouth as he recognized the injured man’s clothes – they belonged to the King’s personal messengers.

“Johan,” Rhin whispered worriedly, pulling his gaze from the commotion long enough to guide his hand to his companion’s shoulder.

“Y-yeah, I know..” Johan said in a strangely tense tone, casting a quick tilt of his head towards Rhin’s hand as the boy squeezed Johan’s shoulder gently.

“Rhinwyn!” Both boys turned quickly in fright as Kyin’s voice hit their ears like an arrow, jarring them from their thoughts. Rhin gathered her quickly into his arms and covered her mouth with a ‘shh’ and a quick look around the inn. Seeing that no one was looking, and feeling Kyin stiffen nervously, he let her go and she stepped back to look at him.

“What’s going on? Wh-why is one of th-the King’s messengers here!” She gasped frightfully, reaching forward in a slightly jerky way to grab Rhin’s sleeve, digging her fingers into the fabric. She looked at Johan for a moment, but he turned his gaze back towards the man in question, and Kyin turned back to Rhin.

“I don’t know, Kyin.” Rhin answered absently, his attention also back on the men.

“Shh.” Johan said stiffly, turning a bit in his chair.

“Are we going to war?” Kyin prodded, her voice still quaking with fear, though it was merely a whisper now.

“I don’t know, Kyin.”

“Shh!” Johan said again, then pointed back towards the caravan. “Look.” Etn and the three men had been joined by Etn’s wife, Felise, and it seemed as if they were trying to hide the messenger, throwing their arms over him awkwardly as if shielding him from the inn. Johan was slightly surprised they didn’t just throw a sheet over him, it might have looked a bit less suspicious than the lot of them walking in a circle, tripping and stumbling all over themselves. However the most unusual thing about the whole ordeal was, undoubtedly, that no one else even looked up from their food to watch.

“Rhin, I’m frightened..” Kyin whispered as the messenger was escorted through the back doors and out of sight.

“It’s alright, Kyin.” Rhin said, though his voice wasn’t as reassuring as he hoped, he was too busy looking at Johan for answers. His companion reached up and rubbed his temples as if a headache was forming, and shook his head, causing his grass green locks to bounce lightly.

“Maybe,” Johan muttered from behind his hand, looking towards the doors that were still swinging on their hinges, “maybe we should follow them.”

“What?” Rhin nearly shouted, leaning forward and grabbing the corner of Johan’s vest tightly, narrowing his eyes. “Do you have any idea how much trouble we could get in? Not just because we’d be snooping, but because that’s a messenger for the King.. the King, Johan!”

“Rhin- I know, but…” Johan started again, dropping his hands and looking around at the bar, knitting his eyebrows together, “don’t you think it’s strange that no-one else has even.. looked up? No-one has even cast a glance in this direction, and they weren’t exactly easy to miss.”

“Maybe they just didn’t hear them, after all, we didn’t hear them.. It’s only coincidence that I was looking in that direction when they arrived.” He paused and dropped Johan’s vest, turning back to the table. “They probably aren’t looking because they know if they go poking their noses in this they could be jailed for treason.” Rhin said sharply, as if that would dismiss the conversation completely.

“Maybe they don’t want to look.” Johan said, staring hard at Rhin, but the redhead kept his gaze on the table. “Did you hear me, Rhin?” He growled slightly, reaching out and stopping Rhin from picking up his drink, just as he’d done earlier.

“Johan-“

“Maybe they know something that we don’t.” The flute-player insisted, leaning forward to try and get Rhin to look at him.

“Rhin,” Both boys turned to look as Kyin spoke up, stepping towards them slightly, wringing her hands in front of her, “we should go.”

“Kyin!” Rhin whispered in shock, turning completely in his chair to look at her. “You’re with him?”

“You act like that’s a bad thing,” Johan muttered lightly.

“Hush Johan, well, Kyin?”

“He’s right.. what if they do know something we don’t? I mean- we’re almost adults, we have the right to know too!”

“Kyin, if they want us to know, they’ll tell us.”

“What if they don’t?” Kyin said in a pleading tone, reaching out and taking Rhin’s hand. “Please, Rhin?”

Rhin could do nothing but stare for a moment, looking from Kyin to Johan in disbelief. They were serious, completely dead set on this, and Rhin knew he wasn’t able to talk them out of it. He gave a defeated sigh and shrugged in a lost kind of way, rubbing his arm lightly. He had a sinking feeling they weren’t going to like anything they would hear, but there was also an alarm going off in the back of his mind: an alarm that said whatever this meant, they would find out sooner or later, good or bad.

“Fine.” He said softly, standing and looking around once more. “Let’s go.”

Kyin gave Rhin’s hand a squeeze, then the three filed out of the room with Johan in the lead. They pushed carefully through the two swinging doors and paused at the base of the stairs which linked the bar to the second floor kitchen, and third floor rooms. Kyin had been up and down the stairs dozens of times, as she occasionally worked for Felise and Etn, but never had they looked so daunting, so ominous. She hoped desperately that it was just her imagination, and not a sign of things to come. She stuck close to Rhin’s side as they started up the stairs, now more of a row than a line as Johan moved to Rhin’s unoccupied side. Kyin took quick note of how stiff Rhin was, which didn’t ease her at all. She’d hoped that she was just over-reacting, but feeling his anxiety didn’t quiet her at all, in fact, it made things worse.

“How will we know which room they went in?” Rhin asked in a voice barely audible as they passed the kitchen doors, nearing the second flight of stairs. He looked over at Johan, and frowned to see a strangely angry look of frustration and determination on his friend’s face. He was about to say something when Kyin stepped in front of them, hands clasped in front of her like they always were when she was trying to look innocent.

“I… have an idea.” She said lightly, trying to hide a grin, though her lips twitched. The boys looked at each other, then back at Kyin with ‘go ahead’ looks. Kyin pointed to the ceiling.

“There’s a loose board over that way that leads to a really thin floor between the kitchen and the rooms. It’s mostly used for old storage, or at least it was for a while, it hasn’t been used in ages. We can sneak up there and crawl around until we hear them. Since the wood is so thin, we’ll be able to hear them as clear as day.” She gave a slight giggle as Johan clicked his tongue approvingly.

“Sneaky, Kyin, I take it you’ve done this before.” He said, putting his hands on his hips, scanning the ceiling for the loose board.

“Once,… or twice.”

“Kyin!” Rhin said lightly, narrowing his eyes in a very brotherly way at her. She simply shrugged and looked to Johan.

“If you two can give me a leg up I can lower down the ladder for you.”

“There’s a ladder up there?” Rhin said in an exasperated tone.

“I told you, it used to be an old storage room.”

“This has bad idea written all over it.” Rhin muttered, even as he and Johan moved to scoop Kyin up on their shoulders. He heard Johan chuckle and looked across Kyin’s back at him.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I never learned to read, huh?” He said with a wide grin. The two boys shook a bit as Kyin shifted to stand on their shoulders, then with a strange noise pushed open the loose board, sliding it off to one side and pulled herself up.

“How did she manage to do this on her own?” Johan mused aloud as he and Rhin reached up to take the ladder from Kyin and prop it against the wall. Johan then shoved Rhin playfully up the first few rungs, chasing after him like a hyper puppy, trying to keep the mood light, though his heart was heavy. As he pulled his legs up into the space behind him he turned and hoisted up the ladder with a small grunt, passing it off to Kyin and Rhin as he set the board back in place.

The small space had barely enough room for Rhin and Johan to sit up, but its impressive width made up for it. There was just enough light to spread a dull, gold glow over the area, which thankfully illuminated them even after the board was replaced. The scattered boxes, all in various conditions, gave the Nanion the impression that indeed the room had been used frequently at one point, but hadn’t been touched in ages.

Rhin squinted down at the floor, nervously running his hands over the rough wood and trying not to think about what kinds of creatures might be lurking. He heard a slight scuffling sound and jerked his head up, letting out a relieved breath as he saw it was simply Kyin starting forward at a slow crawl. With a slightly forlorn and distraught look at the roof looming just inches above his head, Rhin followed in the same ungraceful, uncoordinated scamper.

“Must be uh, some view from back there, Rhin.” Johan whispered tauntingly, sparing a glance back at the redhead and wiggling his butt to emphasize. He heard Rhin snort and turned his gaze back to where he was going.

“Yeah, marvelous.” Rhin muttered sarcastically, giving Johan a light shove and smiling through his nerves and apprehension. There was just something about the flute-player’s undying spirit, his constant smile, which never failed to set Rhin at ease, no matter what the situation. They were just about to eavesdrop on one of the King’s personal messengers, an act that could easily get them all locked up for treason, and all he could do was chuckle at Johan’s bouncing rear-end.

“Oh! I think I’ve found them!” Kyin called lightly, looking up through a small hole in the roof as she heard a voice she didn’t recognize. She looked over at Johan who had his head dipped down, concentrating on the voices, until he gave a nod and began to move a few boxes out of the way. Kyin and Rhin moved to help him, until they’d cleared away a small circle surrounding the beam of light piercing through the hole. They all looked up, squinting and bringing their heads close together to look and listen.

“I- didn’t mean t-to cause you s-such distress, sir, b-but your village was th-the first I’d c-come upon since my a-attack, and I knew I wouldn’t make it b-back to Castle Shyr without h-help.” The voice belonged to the King’s messenger, and the trio of eavesdroppers were surprised to hear how young he sounded.

“Don’t worry, son, we’re happy to help.” Came the soft and concerned voice of Felise.

“Felise, really, stop fussing over the boy and let him talk.” Etn replied, his voice scratchy like sandpaper. “You said you were attacked on your way to deliver the message?”

“Yes, sir. I was t-to deliver a me-message to the village of S-sentram, a wa-warning about ad-advancing Tev forces-“

“Advancing Tev forces! Towards Sentram?”

“That’s so close!” It appeared that the two men from Crawyn had stayed to talk, as their voices rang out in unison.

“Hush Maybre, you too Daon. What happened then, son?”

“Whe-when I got to Sen-sentram.. They had al-already been attacked. The Tev burn-burned the whole village into n-nothing but a-ash.” There was a pause after the messenger’s statement, during which the clatter of a cup and the splash of water startled the trio below. They heard Felise scuffling to find a towel, heard her knees connect with the floor lightly as she began scrubbing up the mess.

“Were you.. Late arriving, boy?” Came Etn’s voice again, this time accusingly, and his shadow loomed over the hole. Kyin scooted a bit closer to Rhin, and looked at him for some sort of comfort. However the older Nanion was transfixed on the scene above, and barely moved an inch.

“That message was not a message to delay.” Etn finished sharply.

“N-no, sir! I was di-directly on sch-schedule.” Etn began to ask another question, but his words were drowned out by the sudden coughing of the messenger, and the trample of feet as Maybre and Daon moved quickly to his side to assist him in any way they could.

Rhin’s concentration was broken as he felt Johan stiffen and squirm beside him, making a small, almost angry noise. The redhead reached over and gently touched Johan’s arm, causing the flute-player to start slightly and look at Rhin as if waiting for bad news.

“Sorry,” Rhin whispered apologetically, “are you ok?” There was a long pause, during which Johan looked away, then back up at the floor without answering Rhin. “Johan?” He pressed, knowing now that something was definitely wrong: Johan was not one to ignore him like that.

“I-have to go.” Johan said sharply, pushing away Rhin’s hand in a very uncharacteristic manner before crawling back towards the loose board as fast as he could. He nearly crawled right past it, but saw a sharp, diagonal slash of light in front of him and corrected his path. He lifted the board with a small noise and tossed it into the boxes with a groan, turning and leaping down through the hole without use of the ladder. He hit the ground with a small thud and crouched for a moment, looking around to see if anyone noticed. He didn’t care if he was discovered, but he knew that Kyin and Rhin would get it bad if they were found, so it was for their sake he kept himself quiet. He felt a surge of anger and sickness twirl in his stomach, and turned into the kitchen with a small gag. He stumbled over to the sink, bringing up a hand to cover his mouth, then run into his hair as he leaned over the cool metal and turned on the faucet.

Rhin watched in silent concern as Johan tossed off his hand, then crawled off like an injured animal, leaping out of the hole without using the ladder.

“Di-did you hear that, Rhin?” Kyin yelped suddenly from beside Rhin, not having noticed Johan’s disappearance yet. She dropped her gaze and did a small double take upon noticing the absence, and reached out for Rhin’s shirt.

“Rhin, he said-“

“Hang on Kyin, something’s wrong.” Rhin said, then paused and started towards the hole himself. He got perhaps two steps before he was stopped by a small tug on his sleeve. He turned back around and looked at Kyin, frowning at her hurt expression.

“Rhinwyn,” She said in a hurt, scared tone, her voice bringing back memories of what Johan had said to Rhin in the inn. The way she looked at him, was that the way sisters normally looked at their older brothers? Rhin frowned and shook his head as if to clear it, making Kyin cock her head curiously to one side.

“I’m sorry, Kyin,” Rhin said, reaching up to rub his head, “but Johan’s my friend, and something’s wrong. I have to help him.” He paused and looked back up at her, dropping his hand. “Look, if you don’t want to be alone, then come with me. I think we’ve heard all we needed to hear.” He held out his hand for her, his soft expression changing slightly as she just looked at him.

“No.” She said finally, withdrawing the hand she was slowly moving towards his. “I’ll stay. I want to hear the rest of this.”

Rhin paused for only a second more, then gave a small nod and made his way to the hole. He considered using the ladder, but knowing it would have taken too much time he took a breath and leapt as he’d seen Johan do. He hit the ground and threw out his hands to stop himself from rolling down the hallway. He looked up at the hole, almost expecting to see Kyin coming down behind him, and stood almost angrily, knowing she wasn’t coming this time. The hallway before him was empty -where had Johan gone? Rhin had never seen his friend so upset before, and because of that he had no idea how the flute-player would react. Would he go into the kitchen, seek solitude? Or would he head for the inn, for a noisy crowd that might hide his troubles? Rhin decided that he himself would have preferred the kitchen, so he decided to try there first.

“Johan?” He called lightly as he pushed open the doors and stepped inside. He started as he heard a light rustling and turned his head to see Johan sitting against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest, hands in his hair. He started to say something, but closed his mouth and sat down next to the flute-player.

“Sorry about the hasty exit,” Johan said after a short period of silence, stretching his legs out in front of him and tilting his head back. “I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Take what?” Rhin said softly, looking over at Johan, whose face seemed to be wet. “What’s wrong?”

“When I was little, four or five, I got word that a famous musician, a flute player named Deverell, and his band would be coming to my village. I was so excited. I’d been playing since I could remember, and everyone was always telling me how good I was, telling me I should travel and earn money. They said the life would suit me. So, I decided that that was my chance, that if I could prove to Deverell that I was good enough, that he would take me with him, and I’d be a traveling musician. So I wrote a song. It took all of two whole days, it was a short song, but I was so proud of it. For the next week I didn’t get any sleep, I was up all hours of the day and night, practicing what I’d say to Deverell, playing my song, or just sitting and fidgeting like I was waiting for Yule or something. Then, on a beautiful Sunday morning, like no other Sunday I’ve ever seen, my mom woke me up.

“’He’s coming,’ She said, the scouts had spotted him and his band coming up the road a few hours ago. So she and – she helped me dress, then raced me to the square the band was preparing in. I remember my heart beating faster than a humming bird’s as she pushed me into the crowd with a smile and a light ‘good luck.’ I remember starting to panic because to me it seemed like there were just so many people that I would never get through, and if I never got through Deverell would never hear my song, and he’d never take me with him, and I’d be stuck working at some shoe factory like my unhappy father. So I started to play as I pushed through, then, as if my music were magic, the crowd parted. The people actually stepped to either side to give the musicians a clear view of me; little me, standing all alone in front of a crowd of neighbors as the band continued to set up. I never faltered though, not once. I played my whole song for them with so much passion I shook from it. I’d never played like that before, ever. Then, once I’d finished I saw two of the men exchange looks, then they picked up their instruments, and began to play my song back to me. My song! They played through the first bit, then waved for me to join them for the rest, and I did. Then we started over, and a heavy drum picked in with the violin and the accordion. It – was like a dream. A dream that couldn’t get any better: but it did. As we neared the end I heard the sound of a flute playing a harmony to my song, and then there he was. He was amazing. He played like he was breathing the music – he’d created a harmony for a song he’d heard only twice!

“When we finished he started the applause.. they-clapped for me. Then they walked up to talk with me, asking me my name, how old I was, if I wrote the song, but they stopped when Deverell came to crouch in front of me. I frantically searched my mind for the words I’d decided to say to him, but all I could do was stare, I couldn’t even blink. For me.. it was like.. like meeting the King. Then, then Deverell spoke. I remember his voice more vividly than anything. It was just like his music; soft and effortless.

“He said: ‘Play with us, Johan? We’ll play your song.’ But still, still I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded in response.

“I – I wish I would have said something to him.

“He took me over to the small stage and hoisted me up so I stood in the center. I watched in awe as the band filled in around and behind me, and Deverell himself hopped up to sit next to me on the stage. He looked at me and lifted his flute, and so did I.

“Then we played.

“We played it once through, and it was so strange- so.. amazingly beautiful and surreal that I had to close my eyes to hold back the tears. But- as I began to play through a second time I-… I realized I was the only one playing, no one else.. made a sound.

“The next thing I saw… the next horrid image that I saw- will be forever burned into my soul.

“It was like a dark cloud of dust and smoke, a dark cloud with evil eyes, bright metal swords and hearts of ice.

“The Tev tore apart my village like rabid wolves on a deer. I watched helplessly from the stage as they ripped into everything, and everyone I loved.

“I saw Deverell rush out to meet them. I saw him turn and wave at me to run as his band leapt up to join him. I saw the Tev, the horse dash up behind him.. then, my vision went black.

“When I woke up in an inn three days later, wrapped up like a mummy and shivering in a strange bed, I heard my rescuer saying the same damned things the messenger’s saying upstairs right now. He’d been on his way. He’d been right on schedule. But- he’d been too late. He’d been too late by only a few hours…

“I was the only survivor. He said he’d found me unconscious under the black curtain from the stage.

“Hearing them, hearing the same words over again- I couldn’t take it. I had to get out.” Johan paused with a deep sigh, a few tears in his eyes as his voice wavered, then came back to itself. He looked over at Rhin and then away again with a small chuckle.

“Forgive me?” Rhin just stared at Johan for a long moment, speechless with a strange expression on his face. He had never known his friend to open up like that, to speak so plainly about his past - in fact, this was the first time Rhin had ever heard Johan speak of his village. At long last the red headed Nanion shook his head slowly.

“Johan, I- don’t know what to say.. Only that you shouldn’t be apologizing for something so stupid. I -”

“Rh-rhin, Johan!” Kyin’s voice broke the soft moment as she barreled into the kitchen breathlessly.

“Ssshhh, Kyin!” Rhin whispered shakily, rubbing the back of his head where he’d smacked it against the wall in surprise.

“Kyin, girl, don’t you ever knock?” Johan replied lightly.

“Sorr-sorry but- you have to hear what else they said!” Kyin whispered in a panic-stricken voice, crouching down between the boys and scanning their faces anxiously. Rhin looked nervously over at Johan, wondering how the other boy would respond, wondering if he’d want to hear more. He was glad to see a small hint of Johan’s old nature back on the flute-player’s face as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well, Kyin,” Johan said eagerly, previous questions forgotten, “what did they say?”

“W-well,” Kyin started, but then paused awkwardly. Rhin raised his eyebrows as he scanned the younger Nanion‘s face, and for a moment it looked as if she had been taken by surprise, as if she hadn’t expected them to want to know.

“Kyin?” Rhin tested, lifting a hand to gently prod Kyin’s arm, but he quickly withdrew from the touch as she gave a sob and dipped her head. He looked helplessly at Johan as Kyin covered her face, her shoulders beginning to shake.

“They said the attacks have been getting worse, and more frequent.” Kyin began in a strangely mature voice, a voice that spoke of fear, but also the acceptance of what it was speaking. “They said the Tev have begun what seems to be a campaign to take out all of the villages this side of the Votoc Mountains. They’ve already burned down Sentram, Leiah, Homaru and Tern. The scouts say they’ve already moved in on Yush…” She paused and looked up fearfully at Johan and Rhin, the calm acceptance now shattered. “Do you know what village is next? Do you!”

“Canibar…” Johan voiced softly, his tone strangely somber. He and Rhin exchanged glances, and a slight nod.

“Then us.” Rhin finished, looking back over at Kyin. “What else did they say, Kyin?” For the moment he had to put stray thoughts out of his mind, he needed to know everything before he let himself leap to conclusions.

“Th-they said that they’re going to keep communication going strong through the last villages- but-.. But it looks like we’ll have to evacuate through the pass.” She shook her head and gave a final sob, crumpling forward into Rhin’s lap. Rhin reached up immediately and began softly rubbing her back, a twinge rising in his gut as her words began to sink in. He looked over at Johan, and his nerves weren’t eased any by the stern expression on the musician’s face.

“What does Valagor expect to happen?” Johan mused quietly. “If he keeps going like this, King Colamaro will declare war! If he hasn’t already planned to..”

“That’s what Etn said!” Kyin whispered in fright, sitting up and looking aghast at Johan, running her fingers under her eyes.

“Maybe,” Rhin sighed in a shockingly quiet voice, “maybe that’s what he wants.” He tilted his head back to touch the wall and closed his eyes tightly. He could feel the eyes of his companions on him, waiting for him to continue, to back up his statement, but he couldn’t, and eventually he felt them look away and realize what he’d realized. Everyone knew the villages East of the Votoc Mountains were practically defenseless. They had been used as safe-havens during the war, referred to as the ‘silent zones’, where no fighting was permitted. They were so far out of King Colamaro’s reach that even if he’d sent an army when Sentram was taken, they would never reach Crawyn in time. Defeat, it seemed, was inevitable.

“I …. Think someone’s coming.” Kyin whispered brokenly, looking towards the door, but other than that, none of them moved. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rhinwyn rolled over in bed, rubbing his aching temples. He was unable to sleep, his thoughts were still running through the words he himself had spoken. Was he right? Was it war Valagor wanted?

War.

It was a strange word to the Nanion boy. It was like something you heard about, something, if worst came to worst, you were trained for, but it wasn’t something you experienced. It was like this fairy tale evil that seemed so horrible it couldn’t be real. It left such horrid destruction and pain in it’s wake that it seemed like just a story villain.

Rhin sat up slowly to better rub at his eyes, his sheets crumpling into his shorts as his bare chest was left to settle in the moonlight. He and Johan were old enough to be drafted, they would be expected to fight. Could they fight? Would they? Rhin had never even picked up a sword, and he never intended to. Had Johan?

The Nanion was jerked from his thoughts as he heard his door creak, and he turned his head, half expecting to see Tillie coming in to check on him again.

“Rhin?” Kyin said in barely more than a squeak, peering cautiously into the room.

“Kyin? What are you doing up?” Rhin said in a slightly startled tone, feeling slightly relieved that he’d taken Tillie’s advice and worn pajamas to bed.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Kyin said truthfully, stepping further into the room and leaning against the doorframe ruefully. “What about you?”

“Same.” Rhin answered slowly, looking down at his hands in his lap. Thinking about all the helpless people in the village, the elderly, the young and the injured, Rhin felt selfish and cowardly for having doubtful thoughts about his loyalty to Crawyn. If it came to it, he would fight. He looked back over at Kyin and noticed her looking at him, almost staring, and a slightly uncomfortable pause rose between them. Rhin’s thoughts were slowly dragged back to his previous conversation with Johan concerning Kyin’s affections, but he jolted the thoughts from his mind and nodded Kyin over.

“Come on then, you can sleep here tonight.” He said in a friendly way, smiling a little as he saw a grin spread across her thin lips. She closed the door silently behind her then scampered quietly over to the bed, climbing in as Rhin scooted over. He felt her shift a little beside him and sigh gently after a moment, tilting to look at him.

“When I was little, mom used to tell me stories to help me sleep.”

“Yeah? What kind of stories?” Rhin said, trying to think back on his own childhood, but couldn’t recall any difficulty sleeping.

“Stories of what would happen, if war should break out.”

“What?” Rhin said in bewilderment. “What kind of bedtime stories are war stories, Kyin? Are you kidding?”

“No. They were good stories though, Rhinwyn, they were stories about the Boy of Prophecy.”

“Good war stories, huh?” Rhin sighed, folding his hands behind his head. “Who’s the Boy of Prophecy?”

“What do you mean?” Kyin said as she pushed herself up on her elbow to look down at Rhin. He chuckled lightly.

“I mean just what I said: Who is the Boy of Prophecy?”

“The boy from the Cloak of the Shyr.” Seeing Rhin’s expression only grow more confused, Kyin threw her arms into the air and shook her head. “Geez Rhin, you don’t know anything do you?” She said playfully, then laid down across his chest with a small smile. “There’s a cloak in Castle Shyr that holds the history of our people on one side, and the Prophecies on the other. The prophecies speak of a great war that will tear apart the land, only to bring it back together. They speak of a great boy who will rise from the ashes of a horrible attack and unite the people.” Rhin was silent for a long moment, his eyes scanning the ceiling above him anxiously. He had never really believed in prophecies and fate and what not, but Kyin’s words hit hope in his heart, and he gave a small nod.

“Unite the people?” He said at last, closing his eyes softly. “How exactly is he supposed to do that?”

“By defeating the bad guy, of course.”

“Mm,” Rhin replied, then all at once his thoughts moved to Johan. His closest friend had survived a horrible attack like the one apparently mentioned in the Prophecies - he’d lost everyone he’d loved, he’d had to start anew with heavy pain in his heart. No one deserved that.

“Do you- do you believe the Prophecies, Rhinwyn?” Kyin whispered, almost as if she could read Rhin’s thoughts. “Do you think there really is a boy like that?”

“You know, Kyin,” Rhin said, the smiling face of the musician dancing over his eyelids. “I think I do.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Please.” Mordecai narrowed his eyes as he continued to stare mercilessly at the pleading Nanion before him. The man was in the last years of his life, hair white from sorrow and gray from age. His eyes were locked upon the lightly armored halfling before him, his hands clasped and hovering at his chest. Mordecai lifted his lip in a slight sneer and looked away at long last. If there was one thing he could not stand in the least it was that which he was forced to endure on his newest assignment. When a person pleaded for death, when they asked for the flick of a blade, Mordecai’s blood boiled. It was such a sign of cowardice, such a sign of defeat and acceptance that the halfling just could not grasp. Unfortunately the King had made it quite apparent that there were to be no survivors, and in making Mordecai ‘Captain’, he’d left the responsibility of disposing of these cowards solely to him. It only increased Mordecai’s dislike of the man, for they both knew that he would have to become an angel of death to those few survivors.

“Captain Mordecai, sir?”

The halfling ground his teeth together as his ears were assaulted by a younger Tev soldier coming up the hill. He barely moved a muscle and silenced the whelp with a simple gaze. He felt a tug on the hem of his robe and immediately lashed out his foot, hearing his boot connect with the elder Nanion’s chin. He turned his gaze slowly back to his prisoner as the Nanion hit the ground and didn’t even try to pick himself up. With a final growl of frustration Mordecai removed a blade from it’s sheath and stepped forward into a crouch. He reached forward and in a single, fluid motion, lifted the Nanion’s head by his hair and slit his throat.

“Captain Mordecai, sir, I must speak with you.” Pandal spoke again, taking a few weary steps forward, avoiding the crimson river draining down the hill. He made a slight gasp and held the papers he carried closer to his chest as Mordecai’s cold eyes snapped to the Tev’s own, locking as if Pandal were a target.

“I am no-one’s Captain.” Mordecai said in a rough voice, standing and turning towards his tent in the distance. He was fairly surprised, and highly annoyed, by the sound of footsteps trailing behind him. He almost admired the courage of the soldier for following, but was too angry to admit it.

“I apologize, Mordecai sir,” Pandal said with the deepest sincerity, bowing deeply (which only angered Mordecai further), “but I assumed you would like to see the report on our next target?” He held out the papers stiffly, arms shaking though he tried to seem professional and unphased by Mordecai‘s dark looks. “For our attacks to continue being so successful, you should have a clear understanding of wha-” Pandal stuttered to a stop, then looked slowly down at his gut where a dagger began sending shockwaves of pain through his small frame. His fingers locked tightly around the papers as he drew his eyes up the strong arm which held the dagger in place, up to the emotionless face looming before him.

Mordecai said nothing, but gave his dagger a final twist and quickly withdrew it from the boy’s abdomen. With his free hand he pulled the reports from the dying boy’s grasp and closed the distance between himself and his tent. He reached up and pushed aside the leather flap which concealed the contents of his rather lavish abode. Luxurious only in size, the halfling’s tent was barely furnished, containing only a bed off to one side, a large and sturdy table, and his few travel belongings in a saddle pack off to the other side.

He walked purposefully towards the map-strewn table and took a seat as he unfolded the report. These packages of parchment usually consisted of an estimated population, overall size of the village, a small hand-drawn map, and other useful information about the people, however, the scouts who had created this particular report took an extra step and gave a detailed layout of the surrounding area, including, much to Mordecai’s surprise, a seventh village in the strip of six they’d been told to burn. This village had been completely overlooked time and time again, Mordecai wasn’t even sure if the King himself had knowledge of it. This mystery village had been dubbed Crawyn, whether that was it’s true name or just a title given it by the scouts Mordecai didn’t care, for his attention was now on a particularly devastating piece of information. The village, which in size was easily twice that of the other six, contained a small pathway to a secret pass through the Votoc Mountains that Mordecai’s troupe had been previously unaware of. An escape route.

“Damnit.” Mordecai hissed, picking up the report rather roughly and heading for the flap of his den. He would have to talk with the troupe, they would have to change their entire course, their entire plan. Mordecai wanted nothing more at that moment than to lay his hands on the witless scouts who had overlooked such a detrimental piece of information.

His steps faultered as he reached out to shove aside the makeshift door, and his eyes grew wide. The six villages had turned into seven villages, and this seventh could prove a threat to their mission. Rylee’s prophecy suddenly blared into his mind and he stumbled away from the door, putting a hand to his head. How could they have over-looked that? Valagor insisted that the reference was to the Council of Six, a group of men serving the human king, Canute, as they had been growing bolder and bolder, taking land as it suited them. Mordecai hadn’t believed him then, and he most certainly did not believe him now - now that this had arisen. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and tightened his grip around the report, his beliefs being ripped to shreds. He’d never put much stock into the prophecies, into seers and fortune-tellers, they always seemed to speak in terms that were so vague, it could be altered to affect anyone, but for some reason this, this prophecy bothered him. ‘A mistake long forgotten, will rise from the shadow.’ His lip curled into a sneer and he forced his thoughts elsewhere - Crawyn was a coincidence, nothing more.

The halfling stepped out of the stuffy tent air into the clear night and noticed immediately the tread marks left from Pandal’s heels; signaling that the boy’s corpse had been found and taken down to the pyre to be disposed of. Mordecai didn’t have long to dwell on the thoughts however, for he was alerted by the sound of two sets of approaching boots. He turned his head and narrowed his eyes as he caught the tips of two cadet helmets coming up the hill towards him.

“What do you want?” He snapped before the boys even came into complete view, startling them as they had not yet seen him. He watched with little patience as they looked nervously at each other, then one stepped bravely forward.

“Captain Mordecai, sir,” Began Eli, wringing his hands together nervously. It made Mordecai sick to see such fear, it made him sick to see other people around him. He wiped his face clean of any and all emotion, and turned to face the boys.

“I am no-one’s Captain.” He spat sharply, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down on the Tev children, in truth only a year or two younger than the halfling himself. “I asked you a question, and I expect an answer.”

A bit put-off by Mordecai’s slightly contradictory responses, Eli took a moment to gather his thoughts and remember what it was he needed to say.

“The men wish to know if they may retire for the night? Seeing as how Yush has been leveled and cleared out?” Eli looked over his shoulder at Dak, his traveling companion, but started and looked back at Mordecai when he heard the halfling utter a horrible sounding, gaffing laugh.

“No. They may not.” Mordecai said once his very brief laughing spell was over. He turned his head and began to scan the hillsides and ashes for Vala, his mount.

“You may tell them that due to the incompetence of others they are to move out through the forests there, keeping as far from Canibar as possible.”

“E-excuse me, sir?” Dak said in shock, stepping up and staring incredulously at Mordecai. “You want us to pack up?” Mordecai slowly turned to look at this boy, narrowing his eyes. He abhorred the company of others, if it wasn’t one thing, it was another: if it wasn’t their disabling fear, it was their arrogance and lack of respect. He gave a slow, stiff nod, not able to use his voice as he stared at the idiots sent on this task with him.

“Yes. Pack up and move out. Immediately.”

“And you, sir?” Eli pressed, even as he started slowly down the hill backwards.

“I’m going to make sure the blunder of your fellows hasn’t cost us our mission.” With that Mordecai took off at a slow pace towards Vala, who had shown herself at the edge of a small creek. She was a magnificent specimen, a solid ebony Clydesdale mare who’s shoulders rested even with Mordecai’s head. She was fast and intelligent, the most intelligent horse Mordecai had ever seen. She shook her head, tossing her nearly purple mane as the halfling neared her.

There was hardly ever a word spoken between them, but they read each other clearly. She cocked her head lightly to one side as he neared her, then tossed it back once more and squared her footing. He walked up to her side, and after a small and almost meaningless pat to the neck, hopped up effortlessly onto her bare back and leaned forward as she took off with the crash of hooves upon hard ground.

Mordecai closed his eyes and directed his only true companion with the smallest touch, the lightest lean. He tilted his ears back slightly to block out the sounds of his confused and angry troupe, aided by the pounding of Vala’s hooves swirling through the rising mist.

The horse and rider shot out of the Tev camp with the force of an arrow and careened off into the moor, dipping up and down over the hills until they vanished completely from sight, swallowed by groping fog and rolling hills.

A single Tev soldier stood out among the rest, hands placed firmly on her hips, navy blue hair swept up in the wind as she stared in bewilderment after the halfling fleeing the camp. She shook her head and pressed her way through the mumbling crowd, thoughts of spies and betrayal kept to herself. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No,” Rhin gasped, stepping back awkwardly from the approaching Tev soldier and his poised sword. He stumbled and fell to his rump on the hard ground, wincing and making a noise barely worthy of a puppy. He tilted his head to see the horror behind the Tev - what had once been Crawyn. His only home, burned, pillaged, destroyed by these ruthless warriors, just as Johan’s had been. He couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting over to the ground where the disemboweled bodies of Johan and Kyin lay, open like ripped grain sacks: they had fallen first.

“No!” Rhin shouted, bringing his hands up to block the sword as it came swooshing down on him. “No!”

Rhin shot up in bed, covered in a cold sweat and panting so hard his throat ached.

‘A nightmare,’ he thought bitterly to himself, ‘just a horrid nightmare.’ He sighed and drew his knees up to his chest, running his hands back through his hair to smooth it away from his face. He’d heard of people having dreams of the future, premonitions that served as warnings for things they should and shouldn’t do, and he hoped that wasn’t the case with this dream. He couldn’t remember most of it now, he couldn’t remember any if it in fact, aside from the sight of the lifeless bodies of Kyin and Johan, sprawled over the cold, unyielding ground.

He turned his head lightly to drop his gaze on the bed beside him, where Kyin laid curled in a tight ball, her silk nightgown wrinkled and disheveled. He reached over gently, pausing for a moment in fear of waking her, then followed through and moved a few golden locks behind her ears.

He wouldn’t let her die.

He sighed and gently slid out of bed, being careful not to disturb the sleeping girl, and walked towards the small window leaking in sunlight. He reached up and slowly drew back the off-white curtains, squinting and turning away from the light as it spun into his eyes. He frowned as he slowly opened his eyes to look at the floor, trying to help them adjust, and realized the square sounded unusually busy for this time of morning. He leaned forward a bit, sticking his head out of the now open window, and tried to focus in on the moving blur in the distance. As his eyes slowly adjusted he felt his heart begin to race; the fuzzy blur was a large group of people gathered to talk in the square. He squinted and leaned further out the window, his hair getting caught by the wind, and tried to make out the faces. He became slightly desperate to see someone that he recognized, pleading in his head to whatever God was listening that the scene below him not be what he feared it was.

“It’s Canibar. They came in late last night - they’ve been settling down all morning.” Johan said softly from the doorway, leaning on the door he’d just eased open. He watched with a deep-set frown as Rhin moved back into the room from the window, his head dipped down so that long red strands hid his face.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Rhin said softly, knowing full well the answer, but needing to hear it from someone else, no matter how much he dreaded the sound of it, he needed to know this wasn’t a dream.

“I mean they evacuated, Rhinwyn. The whole village of Canibar evacuated last night, to escape the Tev troupes that have set up camp outside of what remains of Yush.”

Rhin turned to slowly look at Johan, his pleading gold eyes welling with tears at his companion’s harsh, almost deadpan tone. He could tell just by looking at the flute-player that he’d been up all night, helping, worrying, maybe even crying judging by the redness to his eyes. Johan had seen it start, and had accepted it, and the fact that the musician seemed unwilling to try and change the inevitable, nearly stopped Rhin’s heart where he stood.

“Then it’s happening? It’s really happening? The Tev are headed this way? Headed towards us..”

“Yes.” Johan said simply, trying to swallow the lump in his throat as he bit his tongue to hold back the tears. He hated seeing Rhin like that, hated knowing that there was nothing he could do to comfort his life-long friend - but a part of him knew it had to be done. Part of him knew he couldn’t show compassion to the Nanion-boy, because Rhin needed to know how serious it was, he needed to be able to realize what was going on so that he could make it out alive.

“What are we supposed to do?” Rhin breathed, sinking in defeat into a chair pressed up against the corner. He looked up as he heard the door creak, but didn’t have the will to react as Johan walked further into the room and closed the door behind him. Canibar had evacuated, and somehow he knew that had happened in his dream as well.

“Listen, Rhinwyn,” Johan started, walking towards the chair as he tried to ignore the tears in the corners of Rhin’s eyes, “this is big. The elders were talking about beginning the evacuation of both villages through the pass this afternoon - before the Tev have a chance to catch on to Canibar’s move. The Tev have been moving slowly so far, but if they find out what’s going on, they’ll hit us next, they won’t even check Canibar for survivors.” He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair, crouching down by Rhin and gripping both sides of the chair, his face hurting from the frown. “Rhinwyn, look at me.” He sighed, watching as the Naniona moved his golden eyes from the spot on the floor he’d apparently found so fascinating to Johan’s gaze, holding it waveringly with tears slipping down his cheeks furiously now.

“I’ve agreed to help fight.”

“Johan-”

“Hush. I talked to our Captain last night and he agreed to let me in, despite my lack of training and any real combat skill. He was fairly desperate.”

“Then take me to him!” Rhin said, suddenly impassioned as he leaned forward and grabbed Johan’s shoulders fiercely. “Take me to him and let me join up -”

“Rhinwyn! Hush!” Johan shouted suddenly, standing and nearly shoving Rhin’s head into the wall as he covered the boy’s mouth viciously. He turned his gaze slightly to Kyin, still thankfully asleep, before pulling on a cold gaze and looking back at the frightened Rhinwyn.

“Hush. I want you to stay with Kyin, your parents, and Zeva.” He began, slowly moving his hand from Rhin’s mouth, earning a gasping sob from the other Nanion. “I want you to focus on protecting them, and leave the Tev to us.”

“Johan,” Rhin managed between gasps, “I can’t do that. You’re not a fighter. You’ve never even picked up a sword! I can’t run like a coward and leave you here t-”

“Rhin, running isn’t cowardly.” Johan said in a deadly serious voice, shaking his head lightly, “Not one bit, as long as you’re doing it for the right reasons. Zeva and Kyin have never seen death, Rhinwyn, and your parents, well, they won’t be able to fight as well as they’ll need to in order to survive - so I want you to take them all through the pass when this happens, I don’t want you to leave them, not even for a second. Do you understand me?”

“ When this happens…” Rhin whispered disbelievingly.

“Rhinwyn, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, Johan..” He whispered, bringing his hands up to cover his face as he leaned forward, nearly crumpling in two. “This-this can’t be happening.”

“It is, Rhin, it’s happening - it’s happening now.” Johan sighed, turning to sit on the floor with his back to the wall, Rhin and the chair to his left. “The Tev, though vicious creatures, are fairly predictable - and nocturnal, so they’ll attack Canibar tonight.” His gaze moved slowly around the room before falling finally on Kyin, sleeping peacefully, undaunted by the horrors which awaited the village. “When they find it deserted they’ll be furious, and they’ll move on us as soon as they know what happened. At best we have until the sun rises tomorrow before they hit us.”

“Stop it, Johan.” Rhin whispered brokenly, lowering his hands to clasp in front of his knees as he brought them to his chest. “Just stop it.”

A long period of silence followed, filling in between the two boys like a wall. Rhin closed his eyes as tightly as he could, eyebrows wavering as if off-balance as he tried desperately to subdue his sobs. He forced himself to concentrate on the regularity that was Kyin’s breathing, and managed to quiet himself a good deal, though his mind still cried out in anguish. His village was going to be burned to the ground. The people he had grown up with were going to die. His best friend would be out in the middle of a fierce battle and he would be running with the only family he had at his side. There was nothing he could do to stop it, any of it.

He heard a slight noise from the wall beside him, and slowly turned his head to look at Johan, pressed tightly against the wall. The flute-player let out another sob, and wrapped his arms suddenly around his chest, dipping his head forward as his face set into a painful grimace.

“Johan..” Rhin whimpered, moving to his knees beside his friend and touching his shoulder softly.

“I’m so scared, Rhin.” Johan confessed, shaking his head and looking over at the red-head, a small smirk making it’s way through his tears, his bottom lip quivering. “I don’t want to do this - I-I don’t know if I can… but-but part of me has to - to … for my village.” Then, as quickly as it had come, his small smirk faded and left his face in the pit of despair. He collapsed forward and let his head smack into Rhin’s chest, just below the boy’s collarbone. He began shaking, pain in his throat and stomach from trying to keep himself under control, from his hiccup-like breaths, but he felt a small bit of comfort as Rhin’s arms suddenly wrapped around him and squeezed. Johan was sure that Rhin was squeezing him so hard it hurt, but he didn’t mind, it felt good compared to the lurch in his stomach and the feelings in his head.

“I-I don’t know I-if I can d-do this..” He sobbed into Rhin’s shirt, his own fingers digging into the back of his tunic, pulling the fabric at the seams.

“J-johan?” Kyin whispered as she sat up in the bed, rubbing her arm in a sympathetic way, concern on her features as Rhin looked over and met her eyes. His hair was in his face again, hiding most of his features, but Kyin could see the tears on Rhin’s face, the pain on his lips. She slid out of bed, hitting the floor rather loudly, and scampered towards the boys, stopping just a few inches from them. She wrapped her arms over herself much in the same way Johan had, and took a final, tentative step forward.

“Pl-please don’t cry, Johan.” She whispered, fear eating into her voice as she began panting for breath, tears in her own eyes.

“K-kyin, the Tev-” Rhin began, knowing he had to explain it to her so that she would understand, but he couldn’t continue. His voice gave out on him and he turned his face to hide it against the familiar green of Johan’s hair, his shoulders beginning to shake anew.

Kyin’s lower lip jutted forward, tears starting down her cheeks as well as she listened to the words Rhin spoke, but more importantly, as she watched the way he moved. She fell rather ungracefully to her knees and was immediately pulled into the tight embrace by both boys, her tiny frame pinned between their shoulders. Her eyes remained wide for a moment as she let herself dwell on the feel of them beside her, so comforting despite the pain and fear between them. She brought her hands up to cover her mouth and squinted her eyes shut as she realized she could be sharing the last hug with them she would ever have.

Johan wanted to speak, he tried to coax his voice out of wherever it had hidden, just to say it would be alright, just to tell Kyin and Rhin how much he cared for them; but his voice wouldn’t listen, his mouth wouldn’t work. He tightened his grip on the both of them and took a few deep, steady breaths, trying to get himself under control, though his efforts proved fruitless.

“J-joha-” Rhin’s voice was cut short by a sharp knock on the door, which caused them all to jump and turn, fearfully, towards the noise.

“Rhinwyn? Kyin?” It was Alric’s voice which greeted them, stiff and broken. The older Nanion slowly turned the doorknob and poked his head inside, looking first at the empty bed, then turning his gaze to the trio in the corner. He felt another swell of emotion rise in him as he took in the sight of the three of them, holding onto each other for dear life, tears staining their shirts and faces. He sighed and stepped into the room, walking over to sit stiffly on the foot of the bed. For a long while he couldn’t do anything aside from tap his foot and stare at the ball his fists made against each other.

“Captain- Captain Latian sent for you, Johan.” He said once he’d worked up the courage, though he couldn’t lift his eyes to theirs. “You’re to report down at the main gate.” He tried not to pause as he heard his daughter let out a heart-wrenching sob, and continued on as best he could. “Rhin, Kyin, why don’t you walk with him.. Tillie and I- would like you to get a few things for us on the way back home.”

“Thank you, sir.” Johan said first, his voice not nearly as strong as it should have been. Kyin and Rhin could only manage weak nods as the trio began rubbing fiercely at their eyes, chins and cheeks, trying to wipe away the tears.

Alric gave a stiff nod and stood slowly, feeling awkward, even in the presence of his daughter and the boy he’d come to call his son. He turned towards the door but paused as he heard the scuffling of tiny feet on the floor.

“H-here’s the list,” he stuttered, his hands fumbling in his pocket as he removed the piece of parchment, as well as a gold coin, “a-and money for the-” His voice was cut short, his words ending in a soft sob as he felt Kyin’s arms suddenly around his waist, holding him as though she would never see him again. The tears he’d worked so hard all morning to subdue came forward without his calling them, without his knowledge. He turned and took to one knee, pulling his tiny daughter to his chest and wrapping his long arms around her. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to protect her, than to sacrifice himself as a sheild for her, to keep her safe from harm, from the pain she would have to endure no matter what the outcome of the inevitable evacuation.

Johan took another deep breath, his crying all but stopped as he watched Kyin’s father enfold his arms over her like a sheild, holding her so tight she looked as though she’d break. He reached out and helped Rhin stand, turning to lock his blue eyes onto Rhin’s gold, the iris’s meeting and wavering unsurely. He forced a smile onto his dry and cracking lips and looked over at Kyin softly.

“Well, come on you two,” he said, his voice slowly returning to it’s old self, “I had better not be late and you two have a rush to beat.” He looked back at Rhin from Kyin and Alric, and read a sincere thank you in his friend’s eyes, as Johan had been able to do what Rhin had not.

Kyin nodded slowly and pulled away from her father, hard as it was, rubbing under her eyes still. She offered Alric the most sincere smile she could muster and tipped forward to plant a kiss on his cheek, quickly stepping away from him before she lost the nerve to do so.

“We’ll get the things, daddy,” she said sweetly, her voice still sounding tear-torn and pained, “and be back soon.” She reached out for the things in her father’s hand, but paused and wrapped her tiny fingers through his, trying to keep the smile on her face.

Rhin nodded silently from his position against the wall with Johan. He had never gotten very close to Alric, not as close as he would have liked. It always seemed to him that Alric knew Rhinwyn wasn’t his, while Tillie, at times, seemed to forget.

“Have fun, egglet.” Alric said quickly, needing to spit out a reply before his voice gave out on him. He drew Kyin in gently, returning her sweet peck from a moment before with his own to her forehead. He then stood and watched as she slowly started towards the door, trailed by Johan, who put his arm kindly around her shoulders. He turned his gaze then to Rhin, who’d only taken a step or two forward. He had never grown attached to Rhin, not as he would have to his own son, but he still cared deeply for the boy, he’d raised him alongside Tillie. There was just something strange about the boy, some odd presence behind the gold orbs which gazed around at the world which alarmed and unnerved him.

Rhin let out a short gasp as he was suddenly pulled into another embrace, this time by Alric. He’d never been hugged by the older Nanion, carried once or twice, but never embraced like this, like a father would embrace a son, and he let himself melt into the feeling. He knew his tears were starting anew, but at the moment he didn’t care. He folded his hands tightly against Alric’s back, surprised at the frailty he felt there. He stiffened a little, reluctant to let go as the older Nanion began standing, moving away from the embrace, but eventually Rhin stepped back and looked up at him.

“You.. Take care of Kyin.” Alric said softly, his fear and insecurity showing through as he met Rhin’s eyes, holding them as confidently as he could. “Take care of her, and yourself, Rhinwyn.” He finished, turning to put his back to the three children.

Rhin stared almost longingly at Alric’s back as the man turned away, but he knew it was a signal to leave, and he turned slowly to the door.

“C’mon, dawn-bird,” Johan said softly from the doorway, waving Rhin over with his free hand, “we’ve got things to do.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sir? Mordecai?”

Mordecai had half a mind to just continue ignoring the soldier, to just ignore them all completely and do this on his own, impossible as it might have been. Their incompetence, their inability to think for themselves, their dependence on him, their very presence was an annoyance to the halfling. He worked best alone, but for a reason yet unseen, King Valagor had determined it was best to set Mordecai as the Captain of this little brigade of death. Mordecai knew Valagor did it just to get under his skin, the King hated him, and yet he kept promoting him without reason, without cause. It rose suspicion in the halfling’s mind which put his senses on an ever more constant alert.

“Captain Mordecai, sir, this is ridiculous. Please, stop this petty show and give us our orders.”

Mordecai slowly turned to look at the soldier, his eyes first, followed slowly by his hooded head. He could not believe the audacity of these so-called warriors he was forced to baby-sit, they never failed to amaze him. They had been all complaints since he’d returned the previous night with news of what he’d seen. The blunder of the scouts before them nearly cost them the mission, Mordecai was almost thankful the two scouts in his little party had discovered Crawyn Village - otherwise they would have stumbled into an empty village, and by the time they realized what had happened, half of Crawyn would be safe on the other side of the Votoc Mountains. Unfortunately, to solve this idiocy, the troupe had been forced to pack up the previous night instead of enjoying themselves like they had been doing, and march out to Canibar. They would now have to make their attack in broad daylight, on Crawyn itself. Mordecai heard the soldier who’d spoken shift in his saddle, agitated, and his fate was sealed. Mordecai’s hand moved faster than the eye could see, and in a split second his fist, concealing the hilt of a wicked blade, was inches from the man’s stomach. Mordecai felt hot blood seeping into his glove as he gave the blade a twist, then pulled it from the man’s stomach as quickly as he had thrust it there. He turned his gaze back to the village in the valley below, not even listening for the thud he knew was coming.

It was strange how large Crawyn was compared to the other villages. It was as if the men who had constructed it knew things would play out the way they had - they’d managed to keep the village hidden, as well as provide space for two more villages should the need arise. Unfortunately the absent-minded Nanion artisans had prepared for a Tev attack, led by a Tev soldier.

Mordecai’s brows raised slightly, illuminated by the sun which nearly blinded his companions. He felt Vala shift underneath him, her ears turning to catch the sounds of scuffling beside her. Her tail smacked up in agitation, the tips catching the back of Mordecai’s cape.

“Move out.” He growled in a voice which despised itself. “Spare none.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good morning there, Rhinwyn.” Rhin turned his head and smiled as he entered a small shop, Kyin at his heels. His eyes were dry now, he was sure it wasn’t possible for him to cry anymore. He had just said farewell to his closest friend, whom he may never see again, and he was now faced with the reality that, come sundown, he would be on the run, leaving behind everything he’d come to know and love. He was reminded of Johan’s speech from the previous night, the tale of how the flute-player had lost his village. Rhin’s heart ached most for Johan, because he knew the musician was about to feel the same absolute loss again, if he survived.

“Good morning, Keji!” Kyin said in the happiest voice she could muster, gripping the edges of her skirt tightly as she skipped up to the counter. She’d noticed that the adults were all trying to act happy and carefree, as if the children couldn’t feel the change in the air, but she knew that if she played along it would make them feel better, and so she did, no matter how hard it was to keep back her tears.

“Daddy sent us out to get a few things,” she explained as she reached into her pocket and produced the list and the gold coin, “he wrote them down here.” She declared brightly, laying the list delicately on the table and fingering the coin.

“Oh my, you two will be up all night with all these sweets!” Keji said in the same fake-happy tone Kyin used as he inspected the list, full of sweets and things the two children would need should they be forced to survive on their own for a day or two.

Rhin managed to fumble a smile, good and keeping his emotions in check, but not at playing happy. He looked around the store in a lost way, as if trying to find something to occupy himself with, but not even the things he’d dreamt about buying yesterday interested him. He heard light footsteps from behind the counter and turned to look as Keji walked towards the back of the shop, probably intending on wrapping the items in two separate bags, so they would be easy to carry. Rhin knitted his eyebrows together, but the onslaught of overwhelming feelings was pushed aside as Kyin bounced over to him and threw her arms over his waist.

“I bet,” she started slowly, and Rhin could tell she was trying so hard to keep his mind from everything, “that I can eat more candy frogs than you.”

“Oh?” Rhin managed, his lips fooled but his voice not. “I don’t know about that, Kyin, I’ve got a pretty big stomach when it comes to eating candy, especially candy frogs.”

“Yeah right, Rhinwyn,” Kyin said in an exaggerated way, snapping her hands to her hips, “you don’t have a big stomach when it comes to anything! I eat more than you!” Despite his sore throat, his aching heart and his forlorn mind, Rhinwyn could not hold back the laugh that erupted from him at this show. He cupped Kyin’s face gently in his hand and planted a sweet kiss on her cheek, smiling a little as he pulled away to watch a blush spread over her cheeks.

“Here we go,” Keji said as he reappeared behind the counter, two neatly wrapped bags now in front of him. “All ready to go.” He said, his fake smile wider and faker than before.

“Thanks.” Rhin said softly, reaching out and taking both bags.

“Here you go, Keji,” Kyin said as she pinned the coin onto the counter, smiling up at him.

“Oh no,” Keji said, shaking his head and sliding the coin back towards the children, trying as hard as he could to keep his eyes free of what he was feeling, “it’s on me today, Kyin. Don’t spoil your dinner, you two.”

“Oh, thank you.” Kyin said, but her fake voice was faltering as she pulled the coin back into her fist. Keji was a nice man, but he was a swindler and a thief, especially when it came to money, yet he’d given them a full coin’s worth of items free. Dead men didn’t need money.

“Rhinwyn,” Kyin said, her fake voice slowly returning as they pushed through the door of the shop, stepping back onto Crawyn’s dirt roads, “hold my hand?” She asked, trying to sound like an innocent child, not the scared young girl she was.

Rhin thought about answering, but knew he couldn’t, so he instead just took Kyin’s hand in his own, giving her a small squeeze before starting down the road.

Rhin hadn’t been prepared for anything that had happened that morning, but nothing could have prepared him for what happened next. He turned into the square, hand locked firmly with Kyin’s, bags set lightly on his shoulder, and stopped dead in his tracks. Like a hawk diving in for the kill, a dark cloud was ascending on Crawyn from the North, the dark shadow being Johan described as it devoured his home village. Everything else seemed to freeze in that moment, the wind ceased to blow, the people ceased to be, Crawyn fell silent, all that was left were the Tev, the shadow of death descending upon them. A part of him said it wasn’t real, that it was all just a dream, but then the world sparked back into life, and he knew it was really happening.

“Rhinwyn!” Shrieked Kyin, her voice barely reaching his ears over the sudden chaos that ensued. The people, seemingly so organized and ready just moments before, spun into insanity, screaming and running in all different directions. Rhin’s eyes grew wide as he watched the people he knew and grew up with run for their lives, tangled up amidst the hopeful escapees from Canibar.

“Rhinwyn! Rhinwyn!” Kyin continued to shriek, pulling viciously on his hand, his sleeve. He had frozen in place, like time had stopped for him, and wouldn’t even blink as she clapped her hands in his face. Tears began to pour down her cheeks as she watched the horrid thing come closer, and now, she could hear it. The thunder of hooves, the thudding of boots, and the cries of warriors lusting for blood, for death.

“Rhinwyn, oh Rhinwyn please!” She cried again, moving in front of him and wrapping her arms over his waist, hiding her face against his chest.

“L-let’s go!” Rhin said, suddenly sparked into life as he felt Kyin’s tears on his shirt. He looked down and grabbed her wrist, turning and pulling her away. He heard a strange whistle behind him and turned, just in time to watch an arrow go whizzing by his ear to lodge itself in the roof of Keji’s small shop.

“Rhinwyn!” Cried Kyin again, ducking as more arrows began coming their way.

Rhin shook his head and started off at a run again, pulling Kyin behind him roughly. He knew he was hurting her, his grip was so tight, his strides were too fast for her to keep up, but he had to get to Zeva, to his parents - he had to do what he’d promised Johan he’d do.

As they continued to run he was alerted to the sound of a familiar voice shouting directions, it was the old school teacher, yelling for everyone to head towards the pass.

“Rhinwyn! Kyin!” He shouted as he ran towards them from the opposite end of the street. “Your father told me to send you to the pass! He said to-”

“Hrrruuuurrrr..” A nasty sound suddenly stopped both children and teacher, and they looked to the top of the statue in the center of the street.

“R-rhinwyn! Wh-what is it!?” Kyin shrieked, hugging so tightly to Rhinwyn that her nails were cutting into his skin. However Rhin couldn’t answer - he had never seen such a beast before. At first glance it looked like a dragon, a long, lizard creature with all the size and muscle of a full-grown horse, crouched like a gargoyle atop the statue’s head. It’s muzzle was long and sneering, extending upwards to include ears like a bat’s, each a foot in length, and three rows of narrowed, vicious red eyes. Its head was topped with a tattered horse’s mane, which spun downwards to taper off between his shoulders, showing off a scaled body of nothing but muscle. Its long tail was nothing more than bone, and it seemed to be decaying from the backside up. A sort of gray cloud of smog hung around it, seeming to come from its feet, each of the four enabled with a claw three times the size of the others.

“C-children,” gasped the teacher, standing perfectly still as he looked to them, “y-you get to the pass.. I-I’ll distract him.”

Rhin’s gaze snapped away from the beast towards the man and he shook his head vigorously, he knew what the teacher intended to do.

“You can’t..” He whispered fiercely, knowing his voice hadn’t reached the man, but that his words had.

“On the count of three..”

“Rhinwyn, what’s he doing?” Kyin sobbed, her face just barely visible under Rhin’s shirt.

“J-just get ready t-to run, Kyin..” Rhin whispered, moving his hand from her back to grip her wrist again. He felt her stiffen under him, try to hold in a sob, and nod as bravely as she could.

“One, two-”

“Rheeeaak!” The beast threw back it’s head, letting out a sound horrible enough to match it’s appearance, then leapt from the statue, almost gliding through the air as he came to land. He stretched out all four claws, bringing his back legs up under himself and smacked into the teacher, instantly crashing him into the ground. Rhin heard the man utter only one short scream before there was a sickening ripping, wet sound, and the creature tossed it’s head back, a trail of blood rising in the air along with it.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!” Kyin began, panting so hard her chest was about to burst.

“W-we have to run!” Rhinwyn said suddenly, yanking Kyin’s arm nearly out of it’s socket as he turned and pulled her behind him, around the statue until the forest came into view.

“R-rhin! I-I can’t keep up!” Kyin gasped, her slippered feet tripping against the ground.

“Yes you can, Kyin!” Rhin growled, stumbling to the side himself as one of the Nanion fleeing from the village toppled into him, hitting their shoulders together and throwing them both off balance. He let out a gasp as he was hit from the opposite side and his hand released Kyin’s wrist. He turned to try and see where she’d gone, but all he saw was rising smoke and bodies running towards him.

“Th-they’ve set it.. A-aflame…” He gasped to himself as he was knocked to his knees on the ground. He brought a hand up to block the approaching feet of another villager, and pushed himself to stand to avoid being trampled in the mad rush.

“Kyin!” He shouted, starting to push his way back through the crowd, back towards the smoldering buildings and surreal creatures.

“Rhinwyn!” Kyin gasped, holding her arm as she pressed herself up against a tree. “O-over here!” She cried out, her voice mocked with pain as blood trickled between her fingers.

“K-kyin! Kyin!” Rhin gasped, pushing his way out of the crowd and stumbling into the girl, pushing her against the tree. He groaned and wrapped his arm over her waist, turning to look back at Crawyn. He felt the fear grip his joints, felt his feet weighed to the spot, even as his mind yelled and tore at him to run, to keep going - they were almost there, just a few more feet.

“Rhinwyn, we-we have to make it to the bridge!” Kyin gasped, reaching up and pulling roughly on Rhin’s collar. She saw him jerk, as if she’d woken him from a dream, then nod, and tighten his grip on her waist. She winced as he moved his hand back to her bruised wrist, but it was a welcome feeling amongst the others in her head.

The two tore off along the path, winding their way back into the sea of panicking people, stumbling as they tried to carry their belongings and keep track of their loved ones. Rhin caught glimpses of a child on the ground as they ran, his arms and legs sticking out at odd angles, marks and dents throughout his pale skin - he’d fallen, and hadn’t gotten up in time. Up ahead his mother had stopped running, and was now nearly spinning in circles, screaming and pleading for her son to come to her.

Rhin suddenly smacked harshly into the man in front of him, and took a step back, looking up at the man with fear - why had he stopped? He looked around the man, planning on just running around him, but he realized that all the runners had stopped, the whole village had reached the bridge, and stopped - none of them crossing the bridge to the pass which would lead them to safety.

“Rhinwyn, what’s going on? Why did everyone stop?”

“Rheeak!”

“Rheeeaak!”

“Kuk kuk!”

Rhin’s knees nearly gave out on him as he heard the beast’s cry, this time joined by companions, four of them at least. That was why the villagers had stopped, Rhin didn’t need to see the bridge to understand - the nightmarish beasts had somehow beaten the Nanion to the bridge: they were out of options.

They would have to fight to survive.

Kyin squeezed her eyes shut as she listened to the people around her. Children wailed, mothers pleaded as husbands and brothers and sons began to realize what they must do.

“For Crawyn!” Shouted a brave soul, picking up a stick from the ground and rushing towards the bridge. It wasn’t long before other voices joined his, all crying out in desperation.

“Rhinwyn! No!” Kyin shrieked, feeling Rhin start to pull away from her. “Y-you can’t! Remember what Johan said! Please, Rhin! Please!” She wrapped her arms over his waist and pressed herself to him as tightly as she could, shaking her head violently. “Rhin, you can’t leave me!”

Rhin’s face twisted into an angry grimace as something inside him told him it was too late, he’d already failed to honor Johan’s promise. He looked down at Kyin and met her eyes, feeling his bravery waver and perish as he saw the fear and hopelessness in her eyes.

“Come on,” he said, forcing himself to sound brave, and succeeding, “we need to find another way across the gap.” He didn’t even try to return the smile she forced herself to give him, he just held her gaze, moved his hand to her own, and turned around to look back at Crawyn.

“Hrrrruuuuhhh…”

“R-rh-rh-rhin…” Kyin stuttered, frozen in fear as the beast merely inches from them lowered his head, bringing forward his enormous ears. She couldn’t feel herself breathing, her chest was locked in place, but she could smell the beast. It stunk of blood and bogs, of muck and darkness. The smog that had been dripping from the feet of its companion seemed to swirl around the two Nanion, chilling them to the bone and furthering their frozen state.

“K-kyin..” Rhin gasped, unsure of how he was able to form coherent words from his jaw, which was chattering violently as the icy gray cloud ate into his being, “m-move be-be-be-hind me..” He felt Kyin shake her head slowly against his arm, and her nails began to bite into the palm of his hand. He wanted to turn and shove her to the ground, then lead the beast away, even though he knew he couldn’t fight it, knew he couldn’t out run it.

“Rhin- we have to jump!” Kyin shouted suddenly as the beast lunged forward. Rhin shoved Kyin sideways as the beast’s jaw clamped down.

“Aahhh!”

“Rhinwyn!” Kyin screamed, scrambling to her feet and grabbing Rhin’s free arm. “Let go of him! Let go of him!” She screamed fiercely, reaching out to strike the monster’s nose. Amazingly the beast pulled backwards with a shrill shriek into the air.

“Rhin! We have to jump!” She repeated, dragging him towards the end of the gap.

Rhin nodded and stumbled forward, hearing the beast let out another roar just behind them, the creature’s breath pooling on the back of the Nanion’s neck. His arm began to throb and sting, just below his shoulder where the creature’s jagged and uneven teeth had sunken in. He felt Kyin stiffen beside him and looked down. The drop had never looked so far; Jir had never looked so unforgiving.

He felt Kyin’s hand squeeze against his and he turned to look down at her. She met his eyes and an unspoken agreement passed between them.

“Hrauk!” The two Nanion leapt suddenly forward, the jaws of the beast clamping and shredding the back of Kyin’s dress as she plunged forward. The breath was sucked from both of them, leaving them unable to scream as they careened helplessly towards the rushing river below. Rhin turned his head upwards, focusing his clouding eyes on the rise of land floating away from him. The beast was glaring down into the darkness, tongue lolling out of its mouth as its six thin orbs tore into Rhin’s soul.

Then his world went black. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sir! Captain Mordecai!”

Mordecai turned, dragging his blade along the throat of another hapless Nanion, to glare at the man who had interrupted him. He saw the soldier stumble and try to form a salute, though his arm looked rather mangled. The Nanion in Crawyn had been surprisingly well trained in combat, and were putting up much more of a fight than anticipated. However, it was nothing Mordecai couldn’t handle, his troupes, on the other hand, were doubtful, and no matter how hard he tried to focus on the task at hand, his mind kept regurgitating Rylee’s words.

“Some of the other men noticed a group of Nanion soldiers running off to the woods, just east of the Jir. Should we go after them, sir?”

Mordecai simply stared at the man, his blade poised at his side. As he had realized before, the stupidity of these idiots would never cease to amaze him. He watched as the soldier looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer that he, somehow, was unable to give himself. Mordecai did not have the patience to deal with it. He turned and started back towards the village, still populated, however scarcely. He had come to do a job, and if the idiots assigned to him couldn’t figure things out on their own, he would just pick up their slack later, and kill them in their sleep: unless he found them on the battle field.

He couldn’t help but turn his ear backwards ever so slightly as he listened to the mindless prattle exchanged between the soldier who’d spoken, and the few men who’d followed him. He heard them discussing what Mordecai’s leave had meant, and almost felt sickened as they decided, on their own, to go after the fleeing group. Mordecai had almost wanted them to decide not to, just so that he could have the pleasure of slaughtering them later for their stupidity, however, nothing was stopping him from doing that anyway.

He turned his head and smacked into a Nanion woman, dashing around the corner so fast she hadn’t been looking where she was going.

“O-o-o-o!” She gasped, stepping backwards and falling to the bloodstained ground. Her apron was tattered and frayed, already more pink than white, and her blond hair was streaked with gore.

Mordecai spun his long sword, a weapon he very rarely used, and swung it forward in a wide arc, tensing his shoulders and pushing through the woman’s neck as the sword connected, then broke through her spine. He snapped the sword into his left hand as he pulled it away from the carcass, letting it poise at his side. He watched with little change in expression as the woman’s head rolled off towards the nearby corner, expression of horror still on her face.

He kicked the body aside as he walked forward, tossing the sword away as a new, and more formidable sight met his eyes. There was a small group of armed, rambunctious teenagers which seemed to be giving his men some trouble. He reached into his robes and once again produced his scythe-daggers, spinning them until they whistled in his hands.

He noticed one of the boys as the Nanion caught sight of him, and turned, running towards Mordecai with his dull weapon raised high, as if he actually believed he stood a chance. Mordecai was only slightly impressed as the boy blocked his first swing, but was unable to move to block the next. With his left-handed dagger stuck in the wooden pole of the boy’s weapon, Mordecai sliced open a large, gaping hole in the boy’s right side with his free dagger, lifting his foot and pushing the pole away to from his left. He watched as the boy, only a year or two younger than Mordecai himself, crumpled to his knees with his hands wrapped over his side, then hit the ground, struggling to put a brave expression on his face so that he might be discovered and claimed a hero. Mordecai snarled, running his tongue over his bottom lip where blood had gathered, not his own of course, and began to put away his daggers.

The halfling sighed as he heard another battle cry behind him and turned, blocking the new challenger with one hand while he again brought his daggers up in defense. Somehow, it was beginning to become repetitious. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“They’re coming!” Johan perked up his head and turned to look as the man he’d sent to scout came barreling back into the woods, arms flailing over his head.

“Shh!” He hissed before turning back to the injured man he was aiding. He pulled the gauze around the man’s arm for another loop then pulled it tight enough to stop the bleeding before using his teeth to snap the gauze. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand as he tucked the end of the bandage into a lower layer.

“S-so we just wait for them to come to us then?” Spoke one of the other soldiers in the shadows, shaking fitfully as he gripped the woven hilt of his dagger. “I-I can’t sit here like a fox in a trap!”

“Keep it quiet, Geim!” Johan snarled, standing and pulling his sword from the ground where he’d tossed it just moments before. He looked to the few who’d followed him and frowned.

“I’m hoping that by doing this we can distract enough soldiers to let some of our friends and family escape.” He explained, seeing some of the men doubting his choice of action. “Everyone was running towards the pass - the soldiers included, by letting the Tev know we could hold our own, then taking off in the opposite direction, we let them know we were a threat that needed to be dealt with - they’ll surely send a good number of men this way, leaving at least some of the others free to escape.” He frowned and moved his gaze towards the little view of Crawyn he had from the thick trees around him. It was like he’d been shot through the heart with a poisoned arrow: the smoke of decay which rose into the sky from the burning buildings and smoldering bodies, sent a stream of anguish and despair through his veins, locking his limbs and lurching his stomach. He turned and put his arm out to support himself on a sapling as he felt another retch rise, and allowed himself the displeasure of vomiting on the green ground.

Geim frowned and turned his head away, the sound of Johan’s retching almost making him do the same - not that he hadn’t already. In fact, none of the group said anything as Johan nearly crumpled to his knees with painstaking lurches, they had all done the same already, it was a miracle Johan had lasted this long. Not even the bravest of men could really prepare themselves for something like this, no matter how hard they tried, no matter how much they boasted. Geim turned and spit into the bushes as he felt the acid taste on the back of his tongue - then pain.

“Geim!” Johan lifted his head and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as one of his group shouted, turning and stepping back. Geim paused, looking at the others, seemingly confused for a moment, before he lowered his gaze to the arrow protruding from his stomach, covered in blood and things that shouldn’t have been seen. He stumbled to his knees, then hit the ground.

The Tev had arrived.

Johan hefted his sword into the air, panting for breath, the cool air almost making the taste in his mouth dissipate - but the taste of acid and old food was the least of his worries. He stumbled backwards, paralyzed in fear as the Tev began leaping from the bushes like nightmarish bugs. He shook his head, closed his eyes, and ran forward with a cry, sword catching the only bit of light left in the forest as he rushed onwards towards the battle. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~