Chapter 1

The flute was much like he remembered it, though a little worn here and there from the passage of time. A simple instrument of polished wood, it was a gift from an old friend. Nathel had originally given it to her first, in what seemed like another lifetime now. So many years ago, so many long miles traveled. And yet still, the memory of that day lay like crystal in his mind, so clear and flawless. Much like that azure sky had been.

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Nathel Averias walked out the gates of Ascalon City on a morning finer than any he could remember. Soon he would be in the Vanguard, and his fight against the Charr would begin in earnest. But first, he had to hone his skills. Sir Tydus had told him to meet a fellow ranger, Artemis, out here by the road. And there she was, waiting for him in the fields opposite the shrine. Nathel went over to meet her, noting the sounds of bees humming amongst the flowers and a little girl's singsong voice echoing from somewhere nearby. It was a sweet voice, not unlike that of his sister. That same carefree cheerfulness and simple joy that only a child could know. Nathel had known it once, too, before the Charr came. Before their fire and steel had taken it away.

Artemis, meanwhile, had a task for him. A test of his abilities, as she saw it. Fair enough, he supposed. Nathel would impress her and make his first mark on the world, take his first steps toward his goal. Clear the road ahead of skale that had come up from the river and kill their queen. Not the most heroic of tasks, but it would do for now. It didn't take long, and Artemis was impressed enough to give him a flask of troll unguent and teach him a trick or two with the bow.

After bidding her farewell and getting further instructions from one of Sir Tydus' men, a great bear of a man named Haversdan, Nathel heard that little girl's voice again, this time suffused with helpless giggles. Nathel glanced over and saw her for just a moment—a petite figure with short, dark hair adorned with a circlet of yellow flowers above a pair of wide, inquisitive eyes—before she disappeared behind the shrine. He crossed the road, wanting to meet her without knowing quite why.

When he found her, she was skipping around the little hill and humming to herself, her pale blue and red dress swishing around her legs. She wore white pants but no shoes, instead prancing through the grass in her bare feet. Much as Alanna had once done, Nathel thought. His little sister. The girl saw him, then, her already wide eyes widening even further.

"Hi! Are you... are you an adventurer?" she asked. "You sure look like one."

"Yeah. Something like that."

The girl jumped in delight. "Oh, good! You see, I left my flute down by the river. I was going to go get it, but there are lots of monsters down there now. Can you.. can you maybe go get it for me? Please? And make the monsters go away?"

Nathel knelt so that he was at eye level with her. "Sure, I can do that. What's your name?"

"Gwen! What's yours?"

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Sitting with his back to an old oak, watching the stars come out over the snow-covered hillside above the massive citadel that was the Eye of the North, Nathel held the flute in his hand, thinking of the past, of that day. He needed to be alone, to sort through the conflicting jumble of thoughts and feelings roiling within him. It had been nearly a month since he had come back here to the Far Shiverpeaks with Gwen and the others after the Great Destroyer's defeat. Things were quiet now for once, for the first time in so many years, and Nathel wondered why that made him so uncomfortable. Maybe he just wasn't used to it. He acted as a scout for the Ebon Vanguard along with Aidan and Anton, watching the movements of the Charr forces, but even the raids had grown less frequent as the Charr had become more divided with the fall of the shamans.

Nathel put his thoughts from his mind for a moment, brought the flute to his lips, and played. He wasn't very good—at least he didn't think so—but he still managed to hold together a little melody, one that had been lingering in his mind ever since Gwen had given him the flute. He let the music speak of what his words couldn't.

"You're getting better, Nathel."

He stopped playing, looked up, and saw her. He'd been so absorbed in his music that he hadn't heard Gwen approach. She stood before him now, taller than she had been that day he'd first met her. Her hair was fuller but still cut just beneath her ears, with long bangs and a little yellow flower tucked into one side. Her eyes were harder, their innocence long gone, but she seemed more at peace now, more relaxed since he'd helped her kill her old tormentor Daghar and stop the Destroyers. She sat down beside him, ruffling Whisper's fur as she did so. The big cat seemed to like it, settling his head on her lap as she scratched the back of his neck.

Nathel smiled. "Thanks. I've been practicing."

"I can tell. Maybe we should play a duet sometime."

"We'll see, Gwen," he laughed. "I don't know that I want an audience."

She chuckled. "I didn't say we had to have one. But enough of that. With all that's happened, we never got a chance to talk much. I just came over to say that I'm really glad you're here, that we were able to meet again. I missed you, you know."

"I missed you, too. But... I don't know if I'm going to stay."

"Why not?" Gwen shot to her feet.

Nathel sighed. He wasn't even sure, himself. Only that being here, with her, was both wonderful and difficult at the same time. Whenever he looked at her, he wasn't sure who he saw, the child she had been or the adult she had become. He wasn't sure who he wanted to see. But the sight of her always left him breathless, and the errant touch of her hand always seemed to heat his blood. She was his friend, but... she was so different now, her close-fitting blue and black mesmer armor outlining a figure much more shapely and curved than he remembered.

"I don't usually stay in one place for very long," he explained, though he knew that wasn't all of it, not by far. "But I haven't decided yet, about here."

"You have to stay, Nathel. I—I mean, we—need you here."

He nodded. "I know. That's why I've been coming out here lately. Fresh air helps me think. And sitting out under the stars."

"Should I go, then?" Gwen asked.

Nathel motioned for her to sit back down. "No, please don't. I'm glad you came. It's nice to have someone to share the sky with."

"Well, when you put it that way," Gwen smiled, sitting down again.

It felt good, having her so close. He didn't get to be alone with her very often, and there was so much to talk about, so much more than he could say. He looked at the flute again, thinking once more of that day, of the adventures she had shared with him for those few precious hours they'd had together. The little journeys they had made through Ascalon's verdant, rolling hills.

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"You got it!"

Nathel handed her the two pieces of the flute. "Yeah. But so did the skale, I'm afraid."

Gwen's face fell. "Oh, no! It's broken! Those monsters did it, didn't they? They trampled on it! Did you get them, Nathel? Did you?"

"I sure did, Gwen."

"Good!" she nodded. "I knew you would! Say, can I come with you? I promise I won't get in the way. Please? I want to be an adventurer, too!"

Nathel was going to say no, but in the face of her pleading eyes and hopeful gaze, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He only hoped he wouldn't regret it later. And he felt bad for her, after having to show her that her treasured flute was broken. Maybe there was a way he could make it up to her. Surely one of the merchants around here had a flute he could buy.

He beckoned to her. "Come on, Gwen. Let's go."

"Yay! I'm on an adventure! So, where are we going?"

"Ashford," Nathel said, walking with her down the road. "I have to go meet with Devona. Haversdan said she had a task for me."

Gwen skipped along eagerly beside him. "Oh, Devona is so pretty! I just love her hair! Do you think my hair will ever be that pretty when I grow up?"

"Prettier," he said.

"Thanks! You're so nice! Mommy says I shouldn't bother the grownups so much, but there aren't any children around here my age to play with. Have you met my mommy? Her name is Sarah, and she's the town herbalist. She helps make sick people well again."

Nathel shook his head. "I don't think I have. But she sounds nice."

A grove of trees grew on either side of the road, their branches reaching out over the dusty path of fitted stone winding up the hill. As Nathel passed beneath them with Gwen, he shot a few skale that had wandered too close, and the rest fled back down to the river off to his left. It was a fine day, a warm late summer morning beneath a cloudless sky. He felt good, ready to prove to Sir Tydus and Armin Saberlin and the rest that he was worthy of joining them in fighting the Charr. Maybe he would be a hero someday, like King Adelbern and Prince Rurik. But what mattered was forcing the Charr back, forcing them from his homeland.

Gwen's voice drew him out of his thoughts. "So tell me about yourself. Are you a ranger? My daddy was a great warrior, an adventurer like you, but he died when I was seven. Mommy says we'll see him again after we die. Do you think that's true?"

"I think so, yeah," Nathel answered. "I hope so."

"Did you... did you lose anyone?"

He had. It hurt to think about it, but he didn't mind sharing it with her. "My sister. I grew up with her in a village near Surmia. She was a few years younger than me, so I looked out for her as best I could. I don't remember much about my parents, except that my father fought and died in the last guild war, and my mother just withered away after that and died not long after. All I had was my sister, Alanna."

"I'm sorry. You must miss her, huh?"

"Yeah, every day. I took care of her until the Charr came. They destroyed Surmia and burned every village they came to, including mine. I fled south with my sister and a few others, but they caught up to us before we could get very far. We tried to fight them, but they killed most of us, including Alanna, before the Vanguard got there and drove them off. I came here after that."

Gwen nodded. "Are you in the Vanguard now?"

"Not yet," Nathel said, "but I plan to be. I'm entering the academy today."

"I'm sure you'll make it! You're so strong, just like my daddy. How old are you? I'm ten, but I'll be eleven in just a few months!"

Nathel smiled. "Sixteen."

Something caught his eye, then, and he knelt for a moment by the side of the road. A small flower with bright red petals was growing amidst the ankle-high grass. Red iris, he thought. Gwen would like it. Carefully, Nathel pulled the flower out of the ground, gently twisting the roots off the base of the stem. Gwen hadn't seen it yet, but she stood waiting patiently for him.

He turned around and handed it to her. "Careful. It's delicate."

"Oh, thank you, Nathel!" Gwen said, taking it from him. "The red flowers have always been my favorite! How did you know?"

"There were a lot of them growing behind the shrine. I figured you had something to do with it."

Gwen laughed. "Yeah! I planted them. My mommy gave me some seeds back in the spring, and I've been tending them ever since. They're so pretty!"

"Well, if I see any more, I'll pick them for you."

"Thanks!" Gwen said. "I'll have a whole vase full of them! Mommy'll love them, too! How many flowers does it take to fill up a vase, do you think?"

Nathel straightened, shrugged, and started walking again. "I don't know. We'll find out, I guess."

"Yeah, I guess we will! It'll be fun!"