The clouds were hazy, and Ellen dreamed of thunderstorms.

The Zephyr, on its first voyage out of Caladon, drifted unceremoniously through the air currents above the Stonewall mountains. An hour earlier the young lady had taken it on herself to explore the craft, distracting herself for a time with a mouse on the deck (were the other travelers, she mused, aware of what was scuttering about their fine floating establishment?) and a not-entirely-perfected shielding charm. Where a more accomplished mage in her position might have continued to stroll leisurely about the ship, politely engaging other passengers along the way, Ellen managed only a handful of casts before a dizzy spell nearly toppled her. Ruffled, she returned to her seat below and dozed off soon after.

Her sleep was thick, roused only with the scrambling and shouts of nearby passengers and the futile pleas of airship crew for calm and order. Still came the sounds of thunder, and the horrid realization that the skies outside roiled not with storm but with smoke and gunfire. A blast connected port-side and the ship heaved, shattering windows and throwing several men from their feet. Through the windows behind the young woman glanced a matching pair of smaller craft mounted with arms, their coarse-looking pilots (orcs? No-even more brutish) driving hard into the side of the zeppelin.

Ellen was frozen. Any panic amid the screams and cries around her caught in her throat. By her accounting reality held a loose grip on the scene, replaced by a slow, overwrought drama. Another blast rocked the zeppelin, and someone shouted from behind a broken stairwell: she was going down, and fast.

In the blurred moments between descent and impact Ellen summoned only enough of her wits to cast her shield spell once more, bracing helplessly as the flame-scarred vessel plummeted from the fogged skies.

Smoke. Burning metal. Splintered wood.

Fragments and images flickered through her mind as conscious awareness tried to surface.

Shattered glass. Flames. Cries for...

"Help…"

As Ellen regained her senses the sound came into focus. The plea was strained but clear, and came from a pile of rubble not far from where she lay half-covered in scattered debris.

"Help me...please…"

With effort Ellen clambered through the piles of wreckage around her. Clumsily making her way to the trapped victim, her vision still hazy, she identified the source of the cries pinned beneath sheets of burned metal. She nearly yelped as she hoisted away the heavy scraps. A quick glance revealed the swelling in her wrist; a minor concern now, but a painful one.

The figure beneath the rubble, badly bruised where deep cuts and gashes had not already marked his features, tilted his head to acknowledge her. "Thank you, my friend".

Ellen trembled, her voice at a near-whisper. "Gods...". The badly-injured man was by appearance a gnome, one who by his gaunt features and thinning hair had already been in sickly condition before taking a step aboard the zeppelin. Behind them a pair of howls sounded from the nearby hills, turning the young mage-apprentice's blood colder. "A-all right, sir, just hold on, I think I can try to-"

The gnome shook his head, soberly acknowledging it was too late for such things. "I haven't got much time".

"No, no, please, just let me-"

But the man was emphatic. "You must find the boy".

"Wh-wha? I'm afraid I don't-"

"Find the boy," the gnome insisted, "and give him back his ring". With this he placed the item in her hand, which still fought to remain steady. "He will know what needs to be done".

Ellen opened her mouth for the inevitable string of questions, but stopped abruptly as a coughing fit wracked the man's entire frame. Unable to speak she leaned in closer.

"Now listen...listen to me," he continued. "we had to do it. He did unspeakable things to us-we-we had no choice but do as he said. There are-" The gnome took a shallow, labored breath and went on, "so few of us left, but the work is almost finished, and then...the evil...you can't imagine…"

Ellen's heart rate picked up further, her own breath growing thinner even as the gnome drew his with greater and greater effort. "Sir-please-what-"

"He's coming back to destroy everything," he went on, a pained look as his eyes set directly on hers. "Everything...and everyone...please, just find the boy!". He coughed once more. "Tell him that I escaped, and came back to warn...he will know what to do…".

The reality that these were the man's final moments struck full-forced as his expression turned distant, his little remaining strength giving way. Ellen blinked back the unwelcome tear.
"You, my friend," he quietly pleaded, his gaze turned somewhere she couldn't see, "it's...all...up...to you".

Ellen shook as the last breath left him. "No, no...sir, please...no…". A torrent of garbled thoughts and images ran through her mind, none of them recognizable. Her limbs suddenly felt heavy-too much so to budge. The shock broke only at the sound of fast approaching footsteps behind her.

Through the smoke she could only make out a silhouette, one of a figure intent with purpose and heading directly toward her. She grabbed the nearest piece of twisted piece of metal and scrambled to her feet, raising it awkwardly above her head and waiting, heart pounding violently, as the stranger drew closer.

The robed figure approaching through the clearing smoke stopped, as though startled, a few feet from the young woman and ill-fated gnome. The stranger brushed back the hood of his robe, revealing a man perhaps a few years older than Ellen and (in her hasty estimation) in need of a shave and a decent night's rest.

The man stared open-jawed for a moment before breathing a word. The scene could have been almost comical as the two stood frozen, save for the the scattered wreckage and all-too-visceral evidence of casualties surrounding them.

"I can't believe it!"

When he finally spoke he did so excitably-more so as he went on-but clearly. "I mean, you...and the zeppelin...and the fire! And the altar says that…" he looked off to the side, apparently running some calculation through his mind, then jerked his head back toward a saucer-eyed Ellen. "Do you have any idea what all of this means?!"
Ellen furrowed her brow but otherwise didn't budge. "Begyourpardon?"

"You speak!" The robed man nearly jumped but collected himself, enough at least to acknowledge her with an awkward forced smile. "I-I mean, of course you speak. What am I, a blathering idiot? Wait-" A louder howl sounded from the nearby hills, and then a second, as the man patted the sides of his robes. "What-what did you say? Maybe I should be writing all of this down…".

Ellen blinked.

"I...am at a loss here…". Unable to find what he sought, and apparently frustrated for it, the man wrung his hands while his words ran together. "I-I don't quite know what to do, uh...I mean, you are the...oh, of course you are! I mean, you do know who you are, right?".

"I-"

"Of course you do". Another wolf joined the high-pitched chorus-Ellen shivered-and the robed stranger went on,

"what sort of brainless, half-baked question is that for the, uh...what do you call yourself?"

"I-my-" Ellen stammered before blurting out, "sir, are you quite all right?".

She immediately scolded herself. That hadn't meant to come out quite so bluntly.

If the man took offense, however, he gave no indication. "Please, forgive me...I'm making a bloody mess of this whole affair". He straightened his bearing, punctuating his next thought with a deep breath. "My name is Virgil, madam, and I'm new to the Panarii religion-er, your religion-"

"My-"

"Oh, wait!" Virgil brushed off the ground and knelt in front of her, and Ellen's eyes bulged even more. "I, uh, hereby dedicate-no, commit my life to the Living One. I, Virgil, am at your service, madam".

Ellen cleared her throat loudly and dropped the twisted metal pipe. Her words came out in frantic gasps. "Ahem, ah-Virgil-make no mistake, I'm deeply flattered, but...I do think you have me confused with someone else".
Virgil hastened to his feet. "Yes, yes, of course you're not really him, just his reincarnation! I mean…" he eyed her sheepishly, almost embarrassed, "that is the case, right? I have to admit, I'm no expert in elven philosophy, er, prophesy...bloody confusing, you know, all those thees, thous…" he laughed nervously. "Not-not that it's not interesting, em…".

"Virgil," Ellen sighed, an entreaty to some sort of sense.

"Yes, right! Uh, just give me a moment here". He paused, collecting his thoughts. "You see, the Panarii-that's the religion that was formed around the things that he said-I mean, that you said-oh, forget it. Let's start at the beginning. Or this beginning, since there is a lot more that came before this".

Ellen's expression went flat. "Yes, let's".

"You," Virgil nodded at her, "are the reincarnation of a powerful elf, who the Panarii worship, and whose name is...uh…".

Ellen waited.

"Right. Yes, the name. Uh...wait! I remember something: it is written in the scriptures. 'The Living One will live again on wings of fire!'". Virgil seemed pleased with himself for the recollection, but then frowned. "No, wait-I think it says, 'reborn on wings of fire!'" He huffed, for the moment giving up on the effort. "Oh, blood and ashes! Why do elves always have to be so damn cryptic?".

Another pair of wolf cries sent a chill straight down to her toes. "All right," she said, affecting an effort at patience. "I-I really have no idea about any of this. All I know is that a short time ago I and a number of others were floating blissfully above the clouds in a solidly intact vessel, and an even shorter while ago I found myself crawling from the wreck of that same vessel along with an injured gnome who, in his dying breath, gifted me with a ring to be returned at earliest convenience to 'the boy' and a dire warning of 'the evil' coming to destroy everything". Ellen took a breath. "I don't suppose there's a note in the scriptures about any of that?".

She had to give him a measure of credit-he was trying to be helpful. "I don't know about the ring," he said, "but this business about the evil one returning...as I've said, I don't know a whole lot about the Panarii prophecies, but I think you were supposed to return and fight someone evil". Ellen arched an eyebrow.

"Bloody hell," Virgil muttered. "I should know more of this".

Ellen gave a humorless laugh. "Right. Virgil. Clearly you're a bright-erm, well-read—sort. Certainly you've guessed that fighting...evil...someones…" she gestured to her person, in particular the singed traveling gown and dearth of violent implements, "is not my typical element. You really are are quite certain that I am this, em, evil...fighting...elf?".

"You're not actually him," Virgil countered, "just the...embodiment of his...spiritual essence, or something like-" he shook his head, abandoning the line of thought. "Look, I understand this whole thing sounds ridiculous, especially with you being human-and female besides-"

"That, actually, I had come to terms with".

"No, I don't mean-" Virgil sighed. "I just-I know how this all must sound to you. After seeing what I just did, I don't know what to believe myself. Believe me," he spoke more calmly, "I'm no saint, friend. A week ago I would have laughed at all this. But now, I just don't know".

The smoke was dissipating more quickly now, though tiny fires still burned among the splinters and boards strewn about. The clearing skies revealed the approaching dusk, as did the chill in the winds. In the corner of her vision Ellen swore a pair of narrow eyes glistened from the shadows, though she didn't dare turn to look.

"Please," Virgil continued, "just let me accompany you to my mentor, elder Joachim. He can explain all this better than I can".

Another howl and Ellen gasped audibly, taking a step closer to her visitor. "Y-yes...erm, under the circumstances, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to drop by for a chat".

Virgil relaxed. With a hand indicating the direction he went on, "the path out of here leading down to Shrouded Hills is down to the southeast. We'll stop by the Panarii shrine on the way out...see if it makes any of this more clear". Looking around the bulk of the wreckage he added, "we should look for any other survivors before we leave, though. Don't you think?"

"I…" Ellen peered through the mangled debris, straining for signs of life. She fought to temper a sick feeling. "I have my doubts, but yes".

For the first time the faces and identities of the fallen travelers, though in some cases contorted and burned, came into painful focus as the two searched. The half-orc hopeful for a way to finally scrape together a life for his family...the bride-to-be awaiting a train station reunion with her fiancé...the magically-inclined young aristocrat not unlike Ellen herself, seeking excitement and a fresh beginning...

Someone's brother, someone's daughter, someone's beloved.

"Madam?"

Ellen shook herself from her thoughts, aware of Virgil's look of worry. "I'm sorry. Let's keep going".

He nodded and motioned her forward, a steadying hand on her back while they crept around a pile of splintering beams. "I think that you might be right. I haven't seen any…" his words trailed off, needing no explanation.

"No," Ellen agreed, the reality settling on her like a sick haze. Just me.

Her eyes wandered the sheltered valley one last time, hoping to catch some small trace of movement, of breath, any sign of survival. No such sign presented itself.

But there was something else.

Virgil quickly turned to follow as Ellen strode toward a pocket in the low hills some distance from the crash. Glancing over her shoulder he identified what had caught her eye: one of the small flying craft responsible for the attack, its oafish pilot still caught among what remained of the machine. "What is-madam!"

Ellen turned on a heel, only to find herself locking eyes with a starved but determined creature baring a full set of teeth. She sprang back clumsily while Virgil took a hard swing at the wolf with his staff. The blow hadn't killed it but had notably attracted its attention; without thinking Ellen once more fired her shielding spell at her momentarily bewildered companion. His surprise at the glowing disc that had appeared at her command faded as the animal resumed its attacks, and with a well-aimed stroke he knocked the wolf off-balance. Ellen picked up a split piece of the nearby wreck and stumbled with it toward the creature, finishing off the wolf with an awkward blow to the skull.

"What in gods'..." Virgil blinked at her choice of implement. Ellen only shrugged—swallowing her discomfort at ending the creature's existence—and then stumbled backward as another wave of dizziness washed over her. Somewhat flustered, she extinguished the shield spell as Virgil helped her to her feet.

"Thank you," she managed between breaths.

"Of course". He checked that his new charge was uninjured, then remarked, "I hadn't any idea you were practiced in magic-although, being who you are, I guess I should ha-"

"It's a...work in progress," Ellen said, still catching her breath. "Don't ask me to perform at children's parties just yet". She nodded back toward the crashed machine, and Virgil leaned in for a closer look.

"What, exactly, is this? It seems a strange flying device, but much smaller than the blimp...I've never seen anything like it…"

"I think it was one of the machines that attacked us," Ellen replied. "Almost certain of it, in fact".

"And isn't that an ogre among the wreckage? It seems very unlikely that an ogre would have the intelligence to fly such a complex device".

"They didn't, as such…" Ellen gestured to the battered pilot, barely recognizable after having destroyed himself in the crash. Standing out among the remains, however, a gold medallion still hung around the ogre's neck bearing an odd symbol of an eye within a six-pointed star.

Virgil noticed the same. "Do you see that strange amulet he's wearing? And that symbol on its face...I don't recognize it. Do you?".

"No," Ellen replied, tentatively lifting the amulet from its wearer. She felt uneasy keeping it anywhere on her person, but had no other tangible clue to the origin of the attacks. She dropped it into what was left of her satchel next to the ring.

"Something isn't quite right about all this," Virgil said, his eyes puzzling. "I don't remember the, uh...scriptures talking about flying ogres and the like". (Can't imagine, Ellen muttered inaudibly). "We'd better get to Shrouded Hills and find Elder Joachim as soon as possible".

"Yes," Ellen said weakly. "That sounds like a wise idea".

"And be careful," he added, nodding at the slain beast just a few feet away. "These wolves are none too friendly".

She swallowed-lesson learned-and followed him cautiously toward the path leading out of the valley. Stopping twice to fend off the local wildlife, the pair eventually made their way around the crashed zeppelin and toward the aged stone shrine, now overgrown with foliage and crowning the path leading through the mountains.

The words imprinted were nevertheless crisp as Virgil read them aloud. "There...the altar should clear things up for us a bit. Let's see… 'And the spirit of Nasrudin shall be reborn on wings of fire in hills shrouded in fog, and fight the last battle with the evil one'".

"The evil one". Ellen blanched. "Who's the evil one?"

Virgil took a deep, thoughtful breath. "I'm sorry, but I don't know". With a chuckle he added, "I guess we'd better find out, considering you're supposed to fight him".

"Terribly glad you find this amusing".

"I'm sorry," he said, frowning. "I know this is all a bit much considering what you've just been through. Let's just get to Shrouded Hills".

"Right". She secured the torn satchel over her shoulder-its only recognizable contents now a ring of unclear possession and a medallion worn by a an unidentified assailant-and started down the path alongside her determined guide. Caught for a short while in her own thoughts-muddled though they were-she stopped short of tripping as another stranger in dark robes approached.

"Hold there," a low male voice announced. "What are you doing up here?".

"I might ask you the same question," Ellen said without thinking.

Virgil cleared his throat, then leaned in with a whisper. "I mean no disrespect, em, madam, but I don't trust this bastard one bit. Bloody convenient he happened to show up here just now, don't you think? Oh-" he winced. "Excuse my language, madam".

Ellen nodded slowly. "All right...I'm open to suggestions…".

Virgil straightened. "I've dealt with buggers-er, individuals-like this before. Perhaps you'll let me talk with him for a few minutes?" Ellen extended her hand in a "be my guest" gesture, and Virgil stepped forward. "Thank you, uh...I'll take care of this".

Turning to the encroaching figure he put on a bold face and demanded, "You there! What exactly are you doing up here? And what gives you the right to ask so many questions?"

Ellen raised an eyebrow, turning only slightly to hear the unidentified man's response.

"I'm just asking a simple question," he replied. "What are you two doing up here? I'm from Shrouded Hills, a village not far from here, and I witnessed this terrible accident. Is it such a crime to wonder what exactly is going on?".

Virgil was apparently having none of it. "Oh really?" He took a step closer. "Listen, I came from Shrouded Hills myself. It's at least a day's journey from here. There's no way you could have traveled here that fast". Staring the man directly in the eyes, his voice quiet and pointed, he leveled his accusation. "I think you're lying, sir".

Ellen tried to swallow again, but found her mouth dry. Hopefully the mysterious fellow hadn't noticed.

"I, uh, didn't come from Shrouded Hills just now," the man backpedaled. "I was camping not far from here, and saw the blaze. Why are you questioning me? I've done you no harm".

"No," Virgil said sharply, "I don't think you understand. I'm asking the questions here, and I don't like your answers. I'm going to ask you one more time: Why are you here?"

The man's show of pleasant concern disappeared. A cold gaze took its placed, fixed for uncomfortable moments on Ellen. "I don't recommend you speak to me that way, friend. I've just asked a question, and I'm expecting an answer". As his eyes passed between Ellen and Virgil he went on, "We can make this simple, or more difficult".

"Oh, I think difficult is the best way, sir", Virgil flashed a thin smile. "I find that there's fewer questions afterwards. I'm ready to begin this discussion whenever you are". He clenched his fist to underscore the point. Ellen discreetly took a step backwards.

The man hesitated, eyes passing again between the two. "Perhaps this is a...discussion we'll have later, friend. I'm sure that this issue will be resolved in no time". With a searing look at Ellen he nodded. "Good day to you, madam".
"Yes, well, cheers". She gave a small wave, then a questioning glance at Virgil.

After the dark-robed man was well out of sight Virgil paled. "That-that was close".

"You scared him off, didn't you?"

"That man very well could have killed us both," he stated. "Believe me, I've...uh...seen his kind before".

Ellen stared down the path where the stranger had made his exit. "Perhaps prodding him then was not the wisest choice?"

"It was all bluster!" Virgil explained. "I'm no bloody warrior, but sometimes you have to be able to act the part. You learn such things on the.." he stopped. "Well, it's just something I've learned. Fear is a powerful weapon". He looked back toward her with genuine concern. "Something is very wrong here. I think we'd best get out of here as soon as possible".

Exhausted and nerves unsettled, Ellen nodded ahead, and the two began down the path toward the nearby town. "I could not agree more".