Valkyrie Profile:

Lenneth Novelization AU:

Disclaimer: I do not own Valkyrie Profile or any other tri-Ace properties. Please support the official release.

Chapter Twenty-Six:

Midgardian Interludes VII

"Almost time. Lady Seeress should be finishing up her meditations for the day."

"Really?" the new guard asked.

He looked at his partner standing watch over the inner sanctum of the temple.

"I thought this would be a daylong thing." The rookie said.

"Nay," the older guard corrected. "That's only when the gods have something big to tell Lady Heid."

The seasoned guard was a man in his thirties with green eyes, blonde hair, but a brown beard and mustache. He was tall. The rookie he was working with today was but a lad in his teens with long curly hair under his helmet. He was as baby-faced as they came with hazel eyes. The only thing alike about the two men was their garb, light blue tights with darker blue tunics, chain-mail, spears, tall, rectangular shields, and open-faced helmets. They stood watch on either side of the closed and locked door of the inner sanctum where the Seeress Heid conducted her daily commune with the monastery's patron goddess, Sága.

"So, the gods sometimes have something big to tell Lady Heid?" the rookie guard asked. "Like what?"

"Well," the older guard answered. "Take last year for instance, Seeress Heid foretold that darkness had entered Artolia, and if not eradicated, would result in a great tragedy. She even visited the Ol' Weasel King Joshua himself to warn 'im the corruption was closer to him than he would ever let 'imself admit, and he'd do well to have his staff investigated. Instead o' doin' it himself, he had his Chief Advisor Lombart do it, and now look."

The rookie looked at him, surprised. "First I've heard of it."

"'Cause the king never let it be known outside these walls or his meeting with Lady Heid," the older guard said. Then he chuckled as he added, "Lombart's advise."

The rookie uttered a silent "Oh," as he caught on. "I think I see. Artolia's king failed to see the traitor right in front of him, and now his daughter Princess Jelanda lays in green pastures. So, 'twas his own fault after all."

"Ay, if you think everyone was against him putting a cripple to the noose before, that's nothin' compared to if they knew about Lady Heid's warning," the older guard stated.

"Shame, if only… Oh!"

The doors of the inner sanctum opened and out stepped an older woman, Heid herself. Her graying dark hair was tied back in a series of small buns arranged vertically along the back of her head, and she wore crimson robes. The chest area was decorated with the symbol of a golden cup which Sága was said to have poured for Odin on their first meeting. Heid carried the wand of Klinta, a simple black rod with multiple ringed loops through the center of its crown in a full circle.

"Guards, fetch the scribes and the messengers," she ordered. "The goddess Sága has some brought me a vision concerning a most urgent matter. A wicked defiler has trespassed on the sacred grounds of the gods and elves. He uses forbidden, wicked magics and walks among us even now. A price of 10,000 oth is to be put in this man's head immediately and his name spread far and wide so all will know to turn him in."

The rookie guard's mouth just hung open, causing the aging Seeress to scowl at him.

"Did you not hear me, boy? Go, now!" she ordered.

"Ah! Yes, Lady Seeress! Right away!" he bowed and sprinted away.

The older guard also stared in astonishment.

"Truly, Milady?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir Renard," Heid replied. "According to Lady Sága, the same message has been sent out to every Soothersayer throughout Midgard. The Aesir consider this man's affront to be a matter of utmost importance. They hereby order full cooperation from all the territories as well."

"What be the name of this villain?" the older guard asked.

"One Lezard Valeth," Heid answered. "The name is unknown to me, but to someone out there, it will hold great meaning."

"His deeds are really as bad as all that?" Renard inquired.

"Indeed. Who knows what ill deeds he will be up to right now."


"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIHHHH! Lezard, you pervert! Get out! I'm NAKED, you little rat!"

"Now, now, Misty, I've come with a business propos… ULP!" he was forced to duck a flying buckle aimed right for his face.

When he straightened again, he held out both hands as fend off the angry woman, who was already clutching a bottle of hair-conditioner in a hand that trembled with anger.

"Calm down! You know I'm not interested in…"

"Oh, don't you give me that, you fork-tongued lizard!" Mystina shouted at him. "I know what lurks in the hearts of men when they behold a stunning water nymph such as myself!"

"Did she really just compare herself to a… never mind," the necromancer thought.

Mystina stood by the bathtub holding a towel across her front to stay covered. To say she had been unprepared for Lezard to suddenly walk in babbling about business propositions as she was about to drain the tub would be an understatement.

Lezard stumbled back until he hit the wall next to the washroom door, making slow waving motions with his extended arms.

"Pardon the intrusion, I thought this was the lab. Honest mistake," he assured her.

Mystina's already suspicious eyes narrowed. "Honest mistake? You don't make honest mistakes, Lezard! And why are you still in here? Out! Out!"

Then she hurled the bottle of hair-conditioner at Lezard, forcing him to flee out at the door. He heard it clink against the wall behind where his head had been, and momentarily wondered how it hadn't broken. As soon as he was out in the little back hall of the apartment, Mystina slammed the door behind him shut so hard, Lezard felt the vibrations from where he stood.

"Whew," he uttered, and then looked around. "Still, I could have sworn the lab was this way… Oh, never mind."

From the other side of the door, he heard Mystina's lamentation, "Oh, such defilement of a pure maiden such as myself! Now I'm unmarriable!"

"Pure maiden?" Lezard responded with a derisive laugh. "Now, come off it now! Everyone knows how to you spend your weekends. You're about as pure as…"

He was interrupted as the washroom door flew open with the same amount of force which had slammed it. His protest died upon being greeted by a furious Mystina dressed in a short pale violet robe which ended above her knees. He tried not to laugh at her pink bunny slippers.

"Pure as what?" Mystina demanded threateningly.

"Well, me," Lezard smirked.

"Ha! Don't compare this delicate flower to one such as you," Mystina haughtily turned up her nose. "I simply follow Lord Loki's example. 'Twould be a sin not to make the most use of this god-given body while it is still full of vitality and the longing for carnal companionship!"

"And I'm the pervert?" Lezard deadpanned.

"Yes," Mystina answered.

"Fine, then," Lezard conceded. Then he recalled something else she'd just ranted at him. "But 'unmarriable'? Since when is that even a part of your plans? You've been pushing your career forward first and foremost since you first stepped into the academy."

"Tut, tut!" Mystina waved him off. "There's much you don't know about the heart of a woman."

Lezard snorted, and he started to grin, obviously about to spout off a comeback. She pointed at him sharply to stop whatever vile remark was to come.

"Don't say it," Mystina snappishly ordered. "Don't you dare."

"And what was I about to say?" Lezard asked with raised brow.

"Oh, you were about to say something juvenile like, 'Fine, I'll ask what lies in the heart of a woman as soon as I find one,' or something similar," the sorceress answered with an exaggerated shrug.

"So quick to assume," Lezard feigned being hurt.

Mystina sighed, putting her hands on her hips, knowing it was time to get down to business.

"Alright, enough banter. I ought to deck you a few times as a fee for the peep show you decided you were invited to, but that won't get rid of you, will it?" Mystina gruffly said. "So, out with it. What do you want?"

"Glad you asked," Lezard replied. "As I tried to tell you earlier, I am here to propose a trade. You have something I need in the short-term, and I have something that can make or break your research."

As Mystina listened, she pushed past him while straightening out her still somewhat damp hair. Lezard turned and began following her through her apartment, which was cluttered with books, papers, and scientific equipment. The tables were covered with scientific equipment and parchments. Even the kitchen table and counters looked more like the lab of a mad doctor than a place for cooking.

She stopped at her bedroom door, scowling at him.

"You will not follow me in," she firmly said.

"Fine, you can hear me through the door well enough," Lezard held up his hands disarmingly.

She left him out in the hall, although he could hear her moving around in her bedroom, getting dressed.

"Since when does Lezard Valeth admit to lacking anything, I must ask," Mystina asked from within.

"A certain machine I've not been able to procure, myself, actually," Lezard answered. "I need to borrow your transmutation accelerator."

All movement stopped inside her room and there was a thick silence. A moment later, Mystina burst from her room, again garbed in her robe to cover her half-dressed state.

"My accelerator?" she was in disbelief. "What on Midgard could you possibly need it for?"

"That is my business. Are you willing to lend it for the right price, or not?" Lezard's question came bluntly.

Mystina didn't know what caused her to laugh. The sheer audacity of this request, or that he thought there was anything he could give her which would be payment enough for the use of the machine.

"Lezard, you have nothing you can offer me that is worth my transmutation accelerator," she told him plainly. "Especially if you are not going to tell me what you intend to use it for."

Lezard just grinned back. He reached into one of the pouches hanging from his belt.

"Not even this?" he asked.

Mystina's heart skipped a beat, not knowing if she'd just pushed him into doing something drastic, and she had not even prepared a counterattack for whatever his hand drew out. Then her sudden fear turned to perplexion when the item was a stick floating into an airtight glass cylinder full of a solution just a bit thicker than water. It was plugged shut with iron caps on both ends.

"A twig?" Mystina uttered the question almost automatically out of bafflement.

"No, Mystina," Lezard corrected with no small measure of condescension. "This is a precious sample I've analyzed with The Helmont Method. Just say the magic words and have a look at the components for yourself."

He handed Mystina the cannister, and she hesitated, cocking a brow at the alchemist before she focused on the small piece of wood within for herself. After taking a closer look, her brow wrinkled as confusion set in.

"Wait, this is a root," Mystina muttered. "But one unlike any I've ever seen."

She continued to speak, more to herself than her intruder, "I can't say I recognize the genus or even the family this sample belongs to. It doesn't even look deciduous or coniferous… but how is that possible?"

Now she had to know what her ex-classmate had brought her.

"Knowledge within, unravel," she chanted.

On command, a glowing glyph appeared, which listed Lezard's findings from using the thorough Helmont Method of investigation and experimentation. Mystina's eyes widened to capacity as she read the results. This root was just brimming with raw astral energy, so pure it could only have come straight from the Astral Plane. Somehow, it had not been watered down from exposure to the atmosphere of the mortal realm. If the root had contained only that, it'd still have been the kind of specimen magi often killed to get their hands on, yet that wasn't all.

"Pure, raw astral energy… and eitr, too?" Mystina was breathless. "And this type of plant isn't even found on Midgard."

She looked up at Lezard, pointing at the cannister she held, completely at a loss for words.

Lezard grinned, knowing he had her.

"Yes, Misty, eitr, the very primordial liquid that birthed all life, even Yggdrasil and Ymir," he said.

Mystina finally found her words, and blurted out, "What is this?"

"A bit of root of Yggdrasil," Lezard shrugged offhandedly.

"What? But how?" Mystina cried. "The only place on Midgard you could even conceivably get a sample is…"

She paused as ramifications swirled in her mind. "…You've been to the Forest of Spirits. Lezard, you absolute maniac!"

"I prefer the term 'exceedingly curious'," he cracked.

"Well, no matter what you are," she said, cradling the sample as though it were more delicate than a baby. "This is the break in my research I've been needing. Without it, Headmistress Lorenta just might…"

Then Lezard's hand shot forward as he snatched back the sample. Mystina protested and tried to grab it back, but Lezard held it out of reach while blocking her with his other arm.

"So… is this sufficient payment for use of your accelerator?" he asked.

Mystina eyed that sample with the hunger of a starving dog.

"Yes! Absolutely! You can use my damn accelerator!" she snapped.

Lezard held out his hand, motioning with his hands in demand for something.

"The key, first. Then the sample is yours'," Lezard said.

"Ugh, fine. Give me a moment," Mystina grumbled.

She went back into her bedroom a moment, reemerging with the key to her work shed, where the more complex alchemic processes were carried out.

"Here," she practically shoved it into his hand.

Lezard relinquished the sample as promised.

"I would be frugal with it," he advised. "I highly doubt you will ever get your hands on another."

"I could say the same for you," Mystina retorted. "Just don't get us both into trouble with whatever scheme you're conjuring."

"I have no intention of drawing unnecessary attention," Lezard said. Then he wrapped himself in his cape dramatically as he bowed. "By your leave, fairest water nymph."

Then he left her, leaving Mystina standing there, first looking at the sample, and then down the short hall of her apartment he'd left through. She heard her door open, then close, as he left. The conversation she'd just had seemed unreal. What had begun as an invasion of her privacy and home had just ended with her receiving a guaranteed extension of her grant money. Somehow.

"No, no, don't even think about it, Mystina. You don't want to know what he's up to," she told herself.


"So far, the search is still contained to the old mine shafts. They popped the old mine entrances open and gone in. They be keepin' to the old maps 'til they search everywhere the old Holm Mining Company dug for gold. We should be good ta get those people out if we don't waste any time."

As Rusty finished speaking, he leaned back in his chair, staring back at his fellow Silver Savior members sitting across from him at the meeting table in the cellar of the Marley & Marley Mint. At the moment that was comprised of Lucien, Claire, Barren, Bedelia, and Maximillian, and himself.

"You're sure?" Lucien asked, stressing the importance of the accuracy of Rusty's intel.

"Yeah, 'eard some of their supervisors talkin' about it while we was listenin' in," Rusty answered. "Then I followed some of the workers to the taverns and sat in wit' them while they complained about the work they's been made to do to each other and the innkeeper. They still ain't spread out to the cave tunnels the old mine connect wiff. The Iron Lady's hounds're still a million stika away from our side path through the east side o' the mountains."

"That just leaves Maximillian's report of the west side sewer canal, then," Bedelia said.

Lucien nodded to their eldest member. Then he turned to Maximillian, motioning for him to speak.

"Go ahead, Max," Lucien prompted.

Maximillian stood, shoving his hands into his pockets as he did. As always he had on his purple bandana covering his graying dark hair. His bright green eyes looked everyone in the eye before he began.

"Well," he began his report. "I musta walked up an' down the whole west end like some evening gal, but I didn't see any sign they're checkin' the sewers yet. I even went down and wandered the tunnels. Nothin'. They're focused on the mine and catacombs for now."

A wave of relief set in among the others at this secret meeting.

"Maybe we'll be alright after all," Lucien told himself, trying to quiet the worry in his heart.

Barren caught his friend's look, and clapped Lucien on the shoulder.

"Huh?" Lucien jumped.

Barren laughed, and then wrapped his arm around the other young man's shoulders.

"You should see the look on you face right now," Barren said. "See, we're still a ten million ell ahead of dem snooty hoity-toities!"

Claire raised a brow in response. "Hey, don't get cocky, Barren. We're out of this yet, and we won't be until we get those people out of Gerebellum, and then ourselves."

"And you best keep watchin' 'em," Bedelia said in her rough, aged voice. "They may not be watchin' that way today, who knows about tomorrow. Check everyday 'til you depart."

Maximillian nodded. "I agree. I'll get Betty and some of the boys to help me with that."

"Alright, then," Lucien stated. "We're counting on you."

Lucien mentally went over their itinerary before moving on.

"Is there is nothing else to discuss?" Lucien ventured.

He looked around the table, but they were all silent.

"Very well, then. Everyone has their orders," Lucien said. "Claire, Bedelia, you get word to the refugees that we're moving out in three days. Maximillian, take Betty and a few others to keep an eye on the west end. Rusty, you and your men keep watching their progress at the mines. Barren will inform the volunteers of our departure."

"And you?" Claire asked.

"I am going to check on the sheriff's progress at the catacombs," Lucien said with a hint of a sly smirk.

"The catacombs?" was Bedelia's baffled response. "Nothing down there but fools and vampires."

"They don't know that," Lucien replied cleverly. "What if… we could lead them astray to refocus their search down there? Just a little something I thought of last night after our last meeting."

"Hold it," Claire grabbed his arm. "Just what do you plan to do?"

Lucien smirked, and held up his satchel. He opened it, producing one of their silver-beaded braided necklaces they all wore while on mission.

"If you don't mind, Elder Bedelia, but I'm going to need Gloria or Ingrid's dwarven "tunnel sense" to plant this and some other evidence where they'll be sure to find it," he said.

It took everyone a moment, but then, one by one, smiles crept over everyone's faces.

"Boy, it just might work," Bedelia scratched her chin thoughtfully.


"There she is. Crell Monferaigne. I'm home."

Janus stopped the mule he rode atop a hill, which overlooked the vast kingdom of the east side of the continent. The wind blew his graying wavy brown hair and felt good on his somewhat gaunt features. With his remaining eye, he took in the sight below him. The hazel color of the pupil looked blue under the bright, sunny sky. Today, the archer wore a long brown coat over his usual long-sleeved white shirt. It was slightly darker than his usual brown pants and boots, but fit with them well. His double-crossbow hung from the saddle, loaded and ready to unleash twin shots into any attackers. In his long journey across the mountains from Artolia to return to his homeland, Janus had learned to keep his weapon loaded, even if he had several hidden daggers on his person.

The walled capital city of Crell Monferaigne was near enough to take up the entirety of his vision as he gazed upon it, and he could already hear the distant voices of the citizens, among other everyday sounds of the city. He looked the city over, from end to end.

"I never imagined I would have ever seen it again. Banishment is like that," Janus thought melancholically. "Still, with Ferdinand ascending the throne, I must be certain he has not decided to have my father removed from the picture."

Janus then reflected on the overheard conversation which brought him back, even if it meant defying the late King Calvin's royal decree.

"Did you hear the news from Crell Monferaigne?" one Artolia castle guard has asked.

"No, I have not," the other replied. "What of it?"

"The old king of Crell Monferaigne has passed away. The young prince just took over. I hope this doesn't mean we have to start repelling Crell Monferaigne in the near future."

"Where'd you hear this?" the second guard asked.

"The news came officially to King Joshua's throne room this morning."

Kashell had then called Janus away before he could overhear more, but he remembered thinking,

"If Prince Ferdinand has taken the throne as intended, I can't predict what he might do with his father's old loose ends."

"Now here I am, about to commit a crime punishable by death just being within the border of my homeland," Janus thought with no small amount of irony. "I must tread cautiously."

He scanned the main road in and out of the city.

"'Tis early evening. Soon, people will be leaving work to get home before nightfall. That will be my opportunity to slip in," he thought.

As he waited, he spared a thought to his Artolian friends who'd welcomed him into their mercenary group.

"Arngrim, Lawfer, Kashell, Celia, and Aelia," he pictured them all in his mind. "I do wonder if I shall ever see any of them again."

He recalled something had come up concerning their own shared history. Aelia's informant brought news of a former member of their band named Grey who'd murdered his own wife, another of their former comrades.

"I do hope Aelia stayed safe in her quest to verify Grey's location," Janus thought. "Villnore is no place for a lone Artolian."


"Sharp eye out, men. You never know who might be an enemy agent. Within the hour, the ideal time for our enemy to slip one in will be here. If anyone looks suspicious, I want them detained."

"Yes, Captain Fahn. Of course," one of the city gate guards answered.

"Good, vigilance will be key to protecting this city," the sandy blonde office answered his subordinate.

Captain Fahn looked over all the guards placed along the sides of the city's main gate. There were three on both sides, totaling six. He'd come out to give them a surprise inspection with an hour to spare before the evening rush. With him were two of his best knights serving as his security detail. One was Danny, an older knight with a bushy light mustache. Despite getting on in years he was still a force to be feared. The other was one of his new knights, a young man named Jayle with a face so fair Fahn had at first taken him for a woman when they first met. Following an amusingly defensive rebuke, Fahn admitted his mistake. Jayle's slighter build compared to the other knights had not helped dissuade Fahn from making the initial assumption, though.

As Fahn turned to leave the gate guards to their duties, he could not help but be amused at how Jayle's hand never left the hilt of his sword. His fingers were always ready to loose it from its scabbard.

"I applaud your dedication, Jayle," Fahn said as a friendly smile graced his rugged features. "But I think you can afford to relax a little under broad daylight."

"With respects, nay, Captain," Jayle spoke with the fake gravelly voice he used to sound older. "I am the blade and shield between any knife that wants the life of me captain. 'Twas the oath I swore upon Höd's Holy Blade."

Fahn and Danny exchanged amused looks, and they both shrugged, as though to say to each other, "Oh, youth."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Jayle grumbled. "But when I'm blockin' a blade meant for you 'cause I was the one payin' attention, you'll thank me."

"I most certainly will," Fahn agreed.

As they began walking back into the city, one of the gate guards yawned and stood blinking as though having trouble remaining awake. Fahn stopped, knowing this inspection had just become longer than he'd have liked.

"You seemed awfully bored for a man given such an important duty," Fahn sternly told the guard who'd yawned.

"Apologizes, sir!" the guard hastily spoke. "It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," Fahn answered with an air of authority.


"Now is my chance. Alright, don't be hasty. Wait 'til the crowd is well underway and then slip in among them."

Janus gave the main gate of the city a wide birth as he made his way onto the road and slipped into the crowd. Once there, Janus tried to bury out of sight among some wagons and other horse riders. With any luck, he was just another man returning home for the night to the eyes of the guards. As the mule's hooves carried him to the curtain wall, the archer could not help but look up, admiring architecture he never expected to see again. Also, to count the archers posted.

"How it looms overhead, speaking of the wealth and power of Crell Monferaigne," he thought.

Janus felt several things at once looking on the entrance of his place of birth. Pride, sadness, regret, and maybe a bit of fear. In the corner of his eyes, he now had a good look at the guards, who were looking over evening traffic as best they could.

"I know some of those faces," Janus was surprised. "Ol' Ronnie never got promoted? Poor man, still being made to watch the gate after a decade."

kept his body relaxed, in a casual posture. He could practically feel the eyes of the guards on him as he passed between. Yet, nothing came of it. As soon as he was through, Janus began to breathe easier. He entered the outdoor marketplace near the main gate.

"Good, I'm through," he thought.

Janus dismounted his mule and lead it by the reins to draw less attention to himself as he walked the lanes between tents and huts. He kept his head down and remained distant from people when possible.

"Let me see, the Merry Belle Inn was on the outskirts of the market," he mumbled to himself.

He came around the side of a large circus tent before finding it. Janus stopped and almost marveled at the old inn and tavern he had memories of reaching back to his childhood. The sign over the entrance had the name of the Merry Belle written in fancy green letters next to the image of a smiling bell with long eyelashes winking flirtatiously down at the customers.

Janus actually gave a light chuckle when he looked at it. Then he took his mule to the stables and left it there as he went inside to pay for a room. Another patron was leaving as he approached, and the good soul held the door for him. Janus thanked them as he stepped through. Inside, there was an large room full of long tables and patrons. People ate their dinners and drank their mead cheerily or exhaustedly. Serving wenches were waiting on tables and taking orders, and the place smelled of tobacco, alcohol, and other things most foul for the human body.

Janus swept some of his hair forward to keep his missing eye obscured as he approached the front counter and bar. He took note of bounty hunters, soldiers for hire, and also normal citizens. On the left, in a private railed-off area beside the bar was another long table, reserved for the knighthood. Presently there were about twenty-five, perhaps thirty, off-duty knights. Janus quickly scanned their faces and recognized Fahn. He quickly turned his head away, letting his hair obscure his face. However, despite the need to keep himself hidden, Janus smiled, feeling his heart warmed by his old friend's progress through the ranks.

"They made him a Captain," Janus thought. "The Knights of Höd could not be in better hands."

Janus stopped next to a support beam as he took a look at who was manning the bar and the reservation counter.

"Ol' Ned's taking orders, but I don't recognize the girl handling reservations. I'd better make one before she leaves," he thought.

There was only a short line, so Janus stepped behind the last person and waited his turn. The young woman at the counter was a freckle-faced brunette with her hair tied in twin braids which hung down from the sides and rested on her collarbones. She smiled at him as soon as she'd given a key to the person in front of him.

"Good day, Master Hunter," the young woman greeted with a smile. "How may I be of service?"

"Hunter?" Janus thought.

Then he remembered that he wore his double-crossbow at his side, and realized what she was assuming.

"Oh, yes, Good day, Milady," Janus answered with a smile of his own. "I would like a room. I expect to be in town awhile, and I will be able to pay for the duration of my stay. Just lodging for one. I require no special accommodations."

"Of course, Master Hunter," she politely replied. "'Tis 4 oth per night for single boarding, or 28 a week."

"Very well. I can pay for five nights up front," Janus told her.

He untied his money pouch from his belt, still dipping his head down to keep it hidden from the crowd. Not far away, a knight who had just finished his mead horn glanced towards the bar, spotting the much larger wooden mugs and thinking about how much more he drink from one. He was about to call over their waitress when his eyes landed on the man getting a room.

"Uh?" he blinked several times, not entirely sure if he was seeing what he thought saw.

Next to him, Captain Fahn and Danny were joking with Jayle.

"Cor, boy, just try some," Danny shoved his mug in front of the young knight. "Put some hair on yer chest and make a man outta ye yet!"

"They all drink up in Valhalla," Fahn said as he lightly laughed.

Jayle made a face as the odor of powerful alcohol burned his nose, getting another laugh out of his fellows-in-arms. Danny was beside him, smiling expectantly, and Fahn sat on his other side, leaning forward to watch their antics.

"I think I've hair enough, but thank you, anyway," Jayle gingerly shoved the mug back over to Danny, so as to not spill any.

Jayle raised his glass of milk and took a drink. Fahn was about to let him have it with some more teasing when the knight across from him spoke up.

"Hey, Cap'n," he said.

"Yes, Sir Wayne?" Fahn turned to him.

Wayne was pointing towards the bar.

"Is that… a modified bow?" he asked.

"A what?" Fahn repeated.

He looked where Wayne pointed, and he spotted Janus being given a room key. Janus turned away from the girl, and started towards the door. Fahn saw the double-crossbow, and Janus's face.

"That's…" Fahn's was too shocked to say anymore.

"That weapon's illegal," Wayne urgently muttered.

"Indeed, it is," Fahn muttered.

The noise produced by their table lessoned as more of the knights took notice of Janus's weapon. Fahn stood up, prepared to go after his old colleague. Jayle instinctively grabbed for his sword, not knowing what the fuss was about.

"Danny, Jayle, Wayne, John, to me," Fahn ordered.

"Ay, Cap'n," they all answered and stood.

"What's the trouble, Captain?" Jayle asked.

"An illegally modified weapon," Fahn answered and pointed.

Jayle spotted the thin man with a graying ponytail, a pack of supplies swung over his shoulder and a crossbow at his side at the front door of the inn. Indeed, the weapon had been customized.

"That's against national regulations, alright," Jayle muttered.

Halfway out the door, Janus felt eyes on him and turned his head just enough to look back with his good eye. He spotted Fahn leading four other knights after him.

"Damn it!" he mentally cursed.

He pretended not to see or hear them as he stepped outside, shutting the door behind him to make his escape. Now outside, Janus began walking away, trying to blend into the crowd. He heard the door of the inn open behind him, and the knights frantically begin looking around.

"If I can just reach the corner," Janus thought.

"Oi, you there! With the crossbow!" a faking-sounding rough voice shouted from behind.

"Oh, blast it," Janus mumbled in annoyance.

He sighed, and reluctantly stopped, turning to find himself confronted by a young knight, who already had his sword drawn and pointed right at his face.

"May I assist you with something?" Janus asked calmly.

His cordial greeting with met with a suspicious glare from the knight.

"Hands up where I can see them," the young knight ordered. "You so much as caress that bow, and I'll take your other eye!"

Janus froze, not from the threat, but because he was taken aback by this man now that he had a look at him.

"So fair looking, like a woman," was the first Janus thought. "Puny, too. Is he even old enough to have enlisted?"

If Janus had to guess right, this young knight was also about the right height for a woman. Under all the armor, this man's build was impossible to determine. Either way, he was one of the shortest knights Janus had ever seen. The youth had short bright blonde hair that was kept out of his face with a blue headband. He wore the same thick segmented plate-mail as the other knights, even though his looked a little too big for him.

Jayle's eyes narrowed angrily when Janus failed to respond, and he thrust the sword closer to his face.

"I said hands up!" he barked.

As Janus complied, Jayle turned his head to shout over his shoulder while keeping the archer in his line of sight.

"Captain, I've found the perpetrator! I have him at sword-point! He's just over here!"

"Sir Jayle," Fahn's voice came from the other side of a mass of people. "We are coming! Hold him!"

"Yes, sir!" Jayle answered.

He gave Janus a piercing stare as his fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. Janus considered disarming the man and fleeing, but he knew that'd just make him look more guilty. So, he did as he was told, and a moment later, Fahn, followed by Danny, John, and Wayne pushed through the crowd, quickly joining their young comrade. Danny paused as he got a good look at Janus.

"It can't be," he thought.

Janus didn't meet any of their gazes, but maintained a calm front as Fahn's subordinates encircled him. While their blades remained sheathed, their hands were upon the hilts. Jayle was still the only one who'd actually drawn on him.

"I must be careful not to make any threatening movements," Janus told himself.

Fahn stepped forward, studying Janus slowly.

"How may I help you gentlemen?" Janus asked.

"It IS Sir Janus," Fahn thought. "But why is he back?"

The captain gave his knights and the crowd a sidelong glance as he decided on how to handle this situation. Fahn looked down at Janus's crossbow again.

"I don't know if you're aware," Fahn said. "But currently there's a ban on modified bow weapons here in Crell Monferaigne."

He pointed at Janus's double-crossfire. "I'm afraid that weapon is illegal, sir."

Janus glanced at his trusty bow.

"I… can't say that I was aware," he admitted. "Forgive me, Sir Knight. I've not been in the big city for a very long time. I've been living down in Glendale, a little burg you can see Isle Thackus from."

"Glendale, eh?" Fahn uttered. "You are very far from home, sir. Well, wherever you're from, I will be requiring you to hand over that weapon and to see some form of identification. I'll not have that thing in my city."

Janus hesitated. Was this Fahn's way of disarming him to make his arrest easier? Likely. That bow was his main means of fighting. Without it, he was just an unarmored man with knives against knights protected by heavy iron plating, with longer-reaching swords at their disposal. However, he considered how those knights already had the drop on him, and he knew he had little choice if he wanted even a slither of a chance of walking away from this encounter.

"I suppose I have no choice," he thought.

He unclipped the weapon from his sash-belt and slowly handed it over to one of the knights. Danny quickly took it from him and rested it over his shoulder.

"Right, then," Jayle said.

The boy moved in, likely to search Janus for other weapons, but Fahn held up his arm, blocking the younger man. Jayle gave him a surprised look, but Fahn just shook his head. The young knight nodded and backed off, however reluctantly. Janus quickly looked around at the other knights, and then at Fahn, trying to figure out their game.

"Papers, please," Fahn held out a hand.

"Yes, of course," Janus answered.

He unshouldered his backpack and slowly reached inside of it. Then he just as slowly produced a small scroll, which he gave to Fahn. The knight captain unrolled it and began to read through the forged legal document.

"I will be fined for this?" Janus ventured.

"Normally, I would say yes," Fahn answered. "However, since you hail from such an obscure corner of the country, right along its edge in fact, I don't doubt you never heard of the ban. I think we can let you off with a warning this one time."

Jayle and the other knights gave their captain a bewildered look. Fahn raised his hand to stop them from protesting before any of them could speak in protest. Danny, Wayne, and John clamped their mouths shut, but Jayle was undaunted.

"Captain?" he chastised.

"Sir Jayle, stand down," Fahn answered with a calm firmness.

"Yes, Captain," Jayle lowered his blade.

Fahn rolled the scroll back up and returned it to Janus, having finished reading it.

"Mr. James McTavish, correct?" Fahn asked.

"Ay, Jamie McTavish, if you please, gentle lord," Janus answered with a bow. Then he extended his arm for a forearm shake. "Hunting's the game. It's an old family trade. I'm in town in set up shop selling my wares, since I heard the money's better up here."

"Money?" Fahn asked, skeptically.

"Yes, for my father," Janus said.

"His father?" Fahn internally asked. "Wait, is that why he returned? Did he hear of His Majesty's passing?"

"If Sir Janus only returned to ensure his father's safety under young King Ferdinand…" Fahn thought, feeling torn.

Janus then added, "Had I been aware of the ban on modified bows, I'd have come with my regular shooter."

Fahn accepted the gesture, giving Janus a hearty shake. His eyes keenly studied Janus all the while.

"Well, then, may the gods bless your venture," Fahn told him.

"Thank you," Janus replied.

Fahn nodded his head to the side. "Very well, you can be on your way, Mr. McTavish. Just stay out of trouble. Men, stand down."

"Oh, I will, sir," Janus answered. "And thank you, sir."

The knights all still looked at their captain with uncertainty, but they backed off. They hands dropped from the hilts of their swords. Jayle finally resheathed his, but kept a hard, suspicious pair of eyes on Janus as he raised in his hand in a parting wave for them.

"Bless," Janus said his goodbye to them.

Then he spun on his heels and quickly began walking away. He didn't dare look over his shoulder, as he could feel Fahn's gaze on his back. Indeed, the knight captain watched him leave, observing every keen step and how Janus skillfully weaved his way through the crowd.

"That was too easy," Janus thought. "Did he really not recognize me?"

"Captain," Wayne spoke up as he approached Fahn. "With all respects, why'd ye let him go? Even if he didn't know about the ban, that's no excuse."

"Calm yourself, Sir Wayne," Fahn answered. "In the name of fairness, even enforcers of the law must give slack instead of the noose sometimes."

Danny's fists tightened up, and he found himself unable to contain what was on his mind anymore.

"Cap'n, I think that was Sur Janus," he blurted. "Our departed king banished him under pain o' death for dishonorin' the knighthood."

Jayle looked between the two with alarm.

"What's all this, then?" he nearly cried out.

Fahn did not answer right away. He stared after his former comrade a moment longer.

"Perhaps it was," he answered. "We shall see how if Mr. McTavish is who he says he is. For the moment, just keep an eye on him. At the very least, I do not believe he is here to cause any trouble, nor do I think he will stay long."

"What did this Sir Janus do?" Jayle asked.

"He was implicated in the assassination of Duke Igthorne," Danny answered. "There was rumors the Duke wanted his son, Caspar, to take the throne instead of His Majesty Ferdinand. There was, shall we say, a few accidents which came too close to killing the then prince. Then the Duke was found dead with a pair o' crossbow darts in him, and his boy's throat slashed."

"Just some darts and some knifework?" Jayle asked. "Anyone could have done that. How did they know it was Sir Janus?"

Fahn still stared after his former comrade sadly.

With a sigh, the captain answered, "He confessed. The Duke's son wasn't supposed to be there, and in fact had no knowledge of his father's attempts on the prince's life. Sir Janus killed one guilty party, and one innocent that evening. His honor as a knight would not let him live with that."

"So, he fessed up to King Calvin," Wayne said. "His Majesty spared his life and imposed banishment instead, for Sir Janus's years of loyal service, and that of his father, and his father before him going back generations."

"Why punish him at all if the Duke was a traitor?" Jayle questioned, visibly confused.

"'Twas Caspar's death that disturbed the old king," Fahn answered. "Caspar and Ferdinand were friends, and the old king was fond of the boy."

Jayle swallowed, realizing the magnitude of the situation he found himself in. He glanced in the direction Janus had gone in.

"And you think that was him?" he asked.

"I'd stake me life on it," Danny said.

Jayle glanced at Fahn with concern.

"Captain? Is that really alright?" he inquired.

"For now," Fahn muttered. "It will be. I want you men to keep this to yourselves until we're certain. Jayle, I want you to check back at Merry Belle Inn later. Report whether he returns to not. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Jayle replied. "Where else might we look if he doesn't?"

"If he is Sir Janus, I know exactly where he's going," Fahn answered.

Then he turned to his knights.

"Dismissed. Enjoy the rest of your evenings," Fahn ordered.

"Yes, Captain," came four replies.

While his subordinates headed back towards the inn, Fahn lingered just a moment more.

"With that, my debt is paid, old friend," he said.


A few blocks away, Janus stood in front of an armory. After confirming how much money he had left, he went inside, intent on getting himself another bow right away. He stopped just inside the door, glancing out the windows. The knights had not followed him, and he was grateful.

"Could this be some sort of trap. There's little chance Fahn didn't recognize me," he thought. "No, he's not the sort who'd sell an old friend out. Not even a dishonored one. Just what are you up to, Fahn?"


"What? Well, shit. They actually enforce that crap, huh?" Aelia complained.

She looked on the entrance of the Arkdain Ruins unhappily. The sign warning they were prohibited had turned out to be more than just a way to scare people off. The gate was actually being guarded.

Aelia watched them from her and Brego's hiding spot, which was between the roots of a gigantic tree that had reached such size, it may as well have been a branch of Yggdrasil piercing the sky of Midgard. It had outgrown the plateau above where it began life, and its outer roots reached down over the sides, and crept down the walls of the natural formation, overgrowing it. They eventually punched into the ground below, creating a canopy of coiling roots with the stone pillar at the center. Those roots were as thick as the trunks of normal trees.

Presently, the mercenary woman and her horse had taken shelter under them, hidden under their shade and the fog which had settled into the Old Forest that day.

Aelia could see ahead just fine, though, and was displeased to find her path barred. The gate of Arkdain Ruins was dead ahead about ten yards. The old stone outer curtain wall, additionally, had survived the centuries surprisingly intact, aside from some cracks and sections that would collapse someday. Aelia couldn't see any holes she could slip through, and that was a problem, because that meant the only entrance was being guarded by a half-dozen armored men.

"White banners and tunics bearing the symbol of the green griffin?" Aelia muttered. "These are knights from Villnore."

She bit her lip, trying to figure how Grey had gotten mixed up with the Holy Order of Ville.

"Just can't make it easy for me, can you, Grey?" she muttered.

The front gate those guards stood watch at lied shut, but the iron strips which formed the grid pattern of the portcullis were completely rusted and had been ripped down some time ago. Now the old great iron door seemed pitiful with a whole section missing large enough for multiple horseback riders to go through.

Aelia turned her gaze up to peer at the building beyond the wall. It was a shell of what had been a palace. Her eyes narrowed with a vengeful anger, knowing Grey could be somewhere inside with these knights. She backed away, reaching up to scratch Brego under his chin.

"Well, boy, do we wait for Grey to come out, or do we try to get past these guys and jump him on our terms?" she asked her faithful steed.

Brego responded by rubbing the side of his head against her face before going back to eating more grass. Aelia quietly chuckled.

"Yeah, I thought you'd say that," she muttered.

She quickly tied Brego to one of the smaller roots, and then left him out of sight as she slowly worked her way around the other side of the enormous tree's trunk until she was on the other side. The guardsmen at the gate had not noticed her and did not seen to expect anyone else to be out in The Old Forest.

"That works just fine to me," Aelia thought.

She flattened herself against the side of the one of the descending roots as she considered a way either around these men, or…

She looked at the gem in her gauntlet again.

"I've not had to use my secret weapon for a while now," Aelia thought.

She caressed the Dragon Gem, remembering what had happened the last time she had. Coming to, and realizing she was throttling Celia, as though some animalistic reptile brain had taken control while in the gem's influence. Aelia glanced toward the six guards again.

"Alright, if I just try to force my way past them, they could overwhelm me. They don't seem that well-coordinated, but all it'd take is one of them getting a lucky stab to my back and I'm done," she thought. "Besides, if Grey's team isn't that far inside, they could all come running out and really overwhelm me."

She glanced down at the Dragon Gem again.

"I'd be forced to use my dragon form, and if I do that, I might kill Grey before we can get answers out of him. I'll need to get past these jesters and inside, quick," she decided.

Aelia forced air out between her lips.

"I hate all this sneakin' around. I'd rather have a good fight," she frustratedly.

She stopped herself, repeating, "You're going this for your friends, and so Lamia can get justice. You're not Arngrim, so use your head. You need to find Grey no matter what."

She tapped the gem.

"Scaring them off would take just a moment," she thought. "But they'd run inside, alerting everyone that a dragon…"

Her train of thought halted as she realized something.

"They'd coming running out expecting to deal with a dragon before it eats all their horses. I could get the jump on one of them and get some answers."

Aelia smiled evilly. "Alright, let's do it."

She looked around the side of the tree. After ensuring the guards wouldn't see her, Aelia slipped into the foliage and hid herself in there.

"Alright," Aelia told herself. "Let's get this show on the road. Remember, girl, keep a cool head and try not to kill anybody until you have to."

She backed deeper into the trees and underbrush, and then hunkered behind some bushes. She looked down at the gem in the arm-plate of her gauntlet.

"Okay," she muttered.

Aelia put her hand upon the gem, and the change began. She shook pleasurably as her body was filled with the gem's energy and exploded into swirling misty light. The mercenary woman let out a gasping cry.

"My soul burns!" she whispered in euphoria. "…Feels so good!"

"Hey, what's that?"

"Huh?" one of the others guards answered.

Then they all saw something shine from within the trees. They raised their shields out front as they drew back their swords in repel it. Then an ear-splitting roar rang out and something big crashed through the trees, toppling them in its wake.

"What by Tyr's spear?" one of the guards cried.

Then a large form appeared. Its shape was still obscured by the leaves and the fog, but it quickly revealed its draconic nature as it unfurled its wings and swished its long, trunk-like tail about. Then a large four-legged deep-crimson dragon pushed its way out into the open, plowing over more trees. The six guardsmen were beside themselves in fear, unable to move, unable to scream. One man didn't even notice the front of his pants darkening from his own urine.

Then the dragon reared up and opened its great maw, spewing fire in an arc overhead. At least half the men screamed, and the whinnies of horses and stamping of hooves could be heard from the other side of the gate. The guards held up their shields in a feeble attempt to protect themselves as the heat of the flame became unbearably hot for an instant. Then the dragon lunged forward, and slammed down on all-fours against the ground in front of them before cutting loose with another harsh, grinding roar.

The men backed up, under the protection of the gate as they let cries and moans of fear.

"Into the ruins!" one of the guardsmen shouted. He pointed behind the group with his sword. "We must fetch Lord Ranvald!"

"No, stop the horses," another of them shouted.

The fading stamps of hooves could be heard as the guard dashed behind the wall with one of his comrades. Aelia could hear their shouts as they pursued the panicking equines. Meanwhile, the coward bolted for the ruin's interior to go fetch the expedition leader. Two of the guards stood their ground, refusing to back away any further before the might of the scaly beast. The sixth and last guard stood behind them, uncertain of what he should do.

The braver of the remaining guards worked up the nerve to growl back at Aelia and changed forward, quickly followed by the other.

"Back ye devil!" he shouted.

"Ugh, great, actual men men with guts," Aelia thought unhappily. "I gotta finish this quick before the beast tries t' take over."

Aelia bared her fangs at them again, opening her mouth wide. The brave guard saw what he thought was his chance and changed her head-on while his partner banked right to run in from the side and slash her throat. She saw through their ploy, though, and her jaws snapped shut on the charging guard's sword, grabbing hold of it tight.

"What the blazes?" he shouted.

As he tried to pull his sword free of her fangs, the dragoness threw her head to the side, dragging the man across the ground, as he stubbornly kept hold of his sword. Unfortunately for him, this refusal to let go caused him to be slammed into the other guard and they were sent tumbling over the ground as a tangle of arms and legs.

"Alright, I've wasted enough time with these guys," Aelia decided.

She lunged forward, opening her mouth to pick up the third guard in the gate. He screamed and tried to run away, but Aelia was quicker. Her long neck allowed her to reach through the gate and grab him up around the body. As he flailed and cried out, she backed out of the gate, and lightly tossed him at the other two guards, who had been in the midst of trying to pick themselves up. So the third guard being plopped roughly on top of them winded all three.

Aelia quickly poked her head through the gate, the only part of her body which currently fit through and took a quick look inside. None of the guards were in sight and she did not yet hear anyone approaching, so the mercenary woman switched to her human form, shrinking down into her human. Aelia glanced at the winded guards, who were still too dazed to notice what happened. So, she raced forward through the gate and into the yard of the old ruined castle.

Up ahead were large rusted double doors at the top of some long, low decorative steps which were only mildly cracked and chipped. One of the doors had come loose from its hinges and now leaned against the wall next to where it used to be attached.

Aelia could hear the two guards who took off after the panicking horses still pursuing them in a side yard, but well out of sight. So, she moved quickly but silently to the front entrance, where she flattened herself against the wall beside the half-opened double doors. She carefully took a peek around the corner to look inside. Seeing and hearing nothing in the abandoned foyer, Aelia again glanced towards the gate. The three guards she'd left half-conscious out there had at the very least not thought to look inside the curtain wall yet. So, Aelia sidled around the corner, moving herself inside the old castle. Once inside, she quickly examined her surroundings.

"Need a place to lie low, quick," she thought.

The entrance hall was surprisingly conservative in size for how big the old palace was. It was an oval room with four doors along the opposite wall on the first floor. A staircase located in the middle of the room led up to the second floor with a large, central door at the top and four doors on either side of it. The balcony had collapsed, rendering them all inaccessible. There was also an open door straight to Aelia's left. The hinges had given out, so the door lied on the floor in front of the rectangular hole it used to fill. The stonework of the castle seemed oddly bluish, and Aelia couldn't even begin to guess how the ancient people who built this kingdom managed to make it that color.

Aelia did not take the time to admire the ancient architecture, though, and quickly began listening for voices. She was certain she would at least hear the cowardly guard who panicked and fled inside shouting for this Lord Ranvald's help.

"Lord Ranvald, Sir Ian, Sir Ioan, where are you all? There's a dragon at the doorstep," she faintly heard the guard call.

"I can't tell where he is. Damn it!" she angrily thought.

Then she heard a voice outside.

"Where… is the dragon?" it was one of the gate guards.

"I know not. If it went into the ruins, Lord Ranvald and his entourage will be in danger!"

"Do we investigate?"

"We must."

Shit.

Aelia reached for her halberd, which rested across her back in its holder in case she had to draw it. Then, she bolted for the door to her side. She leapt over the fallen door and through the open portal into a darker part of the ruins beyond. The only noise she made was a 'clunk against the flagstones as her boots met the floor again. Light only sparsely shined through the old, dusty windows, and even then, only where they had been broken. With just enough light for Aelia to tell she was a in hallway of some kind, she took off running for the nearest corner to vanish around. It didn't take long for her to hear voices behind her. Aelia dipped into the alcove, and one of the gate guards entered the foyer not even a whole blink afterwards. He looked around, but saw no dragon.

Another of the guards poked his head in through the door. He seemed exasperated on the first guard's behald, and said, "Come off it, Arn, ye don't really think that lizard came in 'ere without knocking over the other door, do ye?"

Arn still hesitated, looking like he wanted to investigate further.

So the second guard tried again, "It woulda gone through the hole in the roof over the old throne room, if anywhere. 'Sides, that yeller, good fer nothin' Norm already went lookin' for Lord Ranvald to warn 'im. Twenty lashes he'll get fer leavin' 'is post, and we'll get the same if we don't get back to the gate."

"But what if it was one of them from the old dragon tribe?" Arn turned and asked. "They could make themsevves human, and that beast could be skulkin' about these halls right this minute."

"Forget it," the other guard said. "No one's seem no sign of the dragon tribes since they was wiped out. Come to yer post, now, in case it returns!"

"Fat lot of good we'll do if it comes back. That thing was smart, Val," Arn answered. "Ye see how it grabbed me sword and knocked me into ye."

"It grabbed yer sword 'cause ye was wavin' it around its face, and you done flew into me 'cause yous was too thick to let go. Now come on, 'fore Lord Ranvald takes the lash t' us all."

"Ugh, Val, somethin' just don't fit right. It coulda roasted us like a brace o' conies but instead just made a show o' it. It coulda chomped Rowan an' instead just pitched 'im at us. Ye seein' how the pieces just don't fit true?"

"All I see is a ninny away from 'is post. Come on!"

Arn lingered a moment longer, and Aelia found herself holding her breath when he looked toward the door she'd gone through. However, he slowly and reluctantly backed out of the entry hall of the old castle, leaving the warrior-woman alone.

Aelia poked her head around the corner.

"Huh. A smart guard. That's a new one," she muttered.

Then she crept further down the hall, always looking back in case that guard decided to come back. There were several doors and turns to the right, but Aelia decided to keep going straight until she came to the corner at the end of the hall. She'd made the decision to keep to a path she knew she could retrace for as long as possible. As the warrior-woman passed each door and hallway, she was cautious, always pausing to ensure no one, or nothing, was inside to be disturbed.

"No telling what else is in here apart from those Villnore goons and possibly Grey," she thought.

Aelia stopped just shy of the corner at the end. She glanced over her shoulder one more time. After being sure she wasn't being followed, she put her back to the wall and slowly leaned to the side to peer forward. After getting a quick look, she drew back. The hall ahead ended at a dust and cobweb covered door about eight feet ahead. There were no other passages between her and the door, so Aelia slipped around the corner, maintaining a cautious silence. She kept to the side until she reached the door.

Once there, the warrior-woman glanced back just one more time, and then put her ear to the old wood. Almost right away, she jerked back with a low cry.

"Gah! It's ice cold," Aelia whispered.

She calmed herself as she studied the door. It wasn't just cool, but cold like it was the outside of a front door in wintertime.

"Not good. This place must be haunted," Aelia thought.

She took a breath, and put her ear to it again, quietly listening. The unearthly cold of the wooden surface made her hair stand on end, but she bore it. Aelia heard nothing, although that was not a guarantee. Her eyes drifted down to the doorknob. She gripped it and pushed down on the rusted iron. To her delight and relief, she found it unlocked. However, her attempt to push it open was met with resistance. The door had given slightly, but then became stuck.

Grunting with frustration, Aelia pulled on the knob, and then pushed again. The door still only gave a little.

"Oh, son of a…" Aelia angrily thought.

She dropped to her hands and knees to peer under the narrow space between the bottom of the door and the floor. There was nothing placed against it on the other side to obstruct her progress, which likely meant…

"Well, shit, don't tell me the building's settled and now the door fits all crooked-like," she moaned.

As she stood back up, she sucked in a deep breath and then let it back out just as briskly. She weighed her options, and then she shook her head.

"Nah, forget it. I'm not makin' a bunch o' racket just to open a door. I'll try one of the other passages."

Just as she turned to head back, she heard the doorknob turn behind her. The mercenary woman spun around, hand to her halberd as the door was pulled inward a crack. Then it was stopped and was left creaking on its hinges. Beyond the door was darkness. Complete and utter. The unnatural kind of darkness one did not see in an abandoned castle with missing sections of roof in the middle of the day.

Aelia again shook her head, "Nuh-uh."

She backed away, drawing her weapon free of its holster, and gripped it tightly with both hands. Out from behind the cracked door wafted chilly air so cold, it was downright arctic. Although it only caressed Aelia's face, it caused all her skin to become covered in goosepimples and triggered her fight-or-flight reflex.

Aelia continued to back away, if only to put more space between herself and whatever was on the other side so she would have just a second more time to react when it came out. In her fixation on the door, she nearly forgot about the corner she was backing towards. As soon as she stepped out into the open where the passages met, her keen peripheral vision spotted something right beside her that hadn't been there before. Aelia gasped as she turned to face it with a quick, jerking motion.

A figure in a full suit of reddish armor stood with a massive battleax raised and ready to chop her into equal halves. Its glowing blue eyes stared into Aelia's soul for a split second before its stroke fell. The warrior-woman cursed as she raised her halberd, angled to block, and push her opponent's swing to the side.

"Oof!" Aelia grunted as the clash of weapons caused her whole body to shake hard enough that it rattled her teeth.

The ax stroke clanged against the floor, missing her, but just barely. The Undead warrior's attack had been so powerful, Aelia just barely managed to parry it away, and even then, she'd had to back herself up against the wall to avoid it. The door and the murderous revenant were both in front of her and the hallway she'd come down was to her right. She stood against the wall, stunned just long enough for the other warrior to recover and raise his ax again. This time his arc was much lower, along the side of his shoulder for a quicker stroke.

"Shit!" Aelia cried.

She ducked under the horizontal strike, which clashed loudly against the wall. In the limited space she had to strike, she swung at his torso, but her blow glanced off his plackart, instead of punching through to his chest or stomach. Knowing she had no time to waste, Aelia dove forward into a roll to avoid another strike. She turned in mid-roll, keeping herself facing her opponent. That put the door to her back, which she didn't like, but the only enemy she knew for certain existed was the Undead man in crimson armor.

"He's tough, but I can take him!" she determinedly thought.

"You there!" a voice called from back the way Aelia came. "Identify yourself! 'Tis forbidden for one to enter these grounds without royal permission!"

The Undead knight looked away from her toward the people at the other end of the hall. There were several men in gray steel armor bearing white and green colors upon their tunics and shields entering the side passage from the entrance hall. Behind them was another figure, a deathly pale man dressed in all black. The knight in front who had called out to the Undead knight stood in front, with his spear thrust forward in challenge.

After receiving no answer, the spear-wielding knight scowled impatiently.

"Are you deaf?" he hollered. "I order you to identify yourself and to turn yourself over to us, the Holy Order of Ville! Failure to do so will result in your arrest and execution!"

The Undead warrior turned to Aelia again. Her dive and roll had taken her safely out of view of the knights and the man in black, so they only saw him.

"We will finish this later, Milady," the revenant told her.

Aelia said nothing as he faced the Villnore knights and charged them, vanishing around the corner. She glanced back at the door. Aelia didn't want to go through it, but between the ax-wielding Undead warrior, and the Villnore knights, she was left with little choice. She stood and unwillingly approached it, feeling the supernatural chill creep over her more with every step. Aelia pressed her hand to the surface.

"Nothin' for it," she told herself.

So, with many reservations, she pushed it open and stepped into the darkness beyond.


"Steady, men! Here he comes!" the lead knight ordered his men.

While he and the four knights formed a barrier of shields and at their end of the hall, the pale man who stood behind them in the foyer motioned for more of the knights to assist them. They ran through the door and piled into the side passage. The captain of the knights stood beside the pal man, and leaned to whisper in his ear.

"Lord Ranvald, you may wish to take a detachment of men and withdraw from this scene," he said.

"No, Captain, I think I will remain here," Ranvald said.

The captain looked at him, baffled at his lack of concern, considering his frail appearance. Between his albino complexion and scrawny frame, the man with boyish looked seemed more at home in a hospital bed than exploring the Arkdain ruins. Additionally, his black hair, dark eyes, and the black clothing he garbed himself in starkly contrasted with his ghostly paleness, making him look almost like an ink illustration come to life. His attire consisted of traveling shoes, black dress pants, and a nice vest which went over a long-sleeved white shirt. Ranvald wore an enchanted monocle which helped him to track and analyze sources of magic and other kinds of energy. It mostly looked like a regular seeing-glass, but with the addition of a dial on the band around the lens, which Ranvald adjusted frequently.

Ranvald noticed the captain gaping at him, and smirked.

"Close your mouth. Don't be rude," he chided him.

The captain cleared his throat and turned to his men ahead of him.

"Do not let that thing through! Remember your training! Slay it!" he barked.

Ranvald however only gave the approaching Undead warrior a passing look. He instead looked at the end of the hall, and adjusted the dial on his seeing-glass.

He stroked his chin as he thought, "This suited revenant was looking at something down there before Sir Ian's shout got its attention. Another intruder, perhaps? Ah!"

He saw an unfamiliar aura making their way through some of the backrooms of the castle, in far too cramped quarters to g]fit a dragon.

"There is someone else," Ranvald realized. "But what is this aura. I've not seen it before. It seems to be magical in origin."

His gaze shifted to the Undead as it plowed into Sir Ian in the front, knocking him into two of the other knights, bearing them all to the floor. Then the armored beast effortlessly threw another knight out one of the windows before beginning to tear his way through the rest.

The captain gasped in shock and fear as he watched the crimson knight overpower them. He grabbed Ranvald by the shoulder while ordering the men who hung back to protect Ranvald. They quickly formed a circle around them.

"Lord Ranvald, I must insist we get you to safety," the captain said.

Their company's leader just brushed his hand off as he stepped forward, weaving his way between the knights which had just planted themselves in front of him.

"Pardon me," he calmly told them.

"Wha-but Milord!" the captain cried.

"Stand back," Ranvald ordered them all. "I will handle this."

With that, the studious-looking pale man stood with his hands shoved into his pockets as the crimson undead knight stepped out of the side hallway, and approached him closely.

"Afternoon. It is a lovely day, is it not?" Ranvald greeted dryly.

"Get. Out," the Undead warrior commanded, holding up his ax menacingly.

"Hmm," Ranvald regarded the towering visage of hate before him. "No, I do not think we will."

The Undead knight roared, raising his ax again to obliterate the disrespectful man before him. In the short moment Ranvald had to react, his right hand shot out and he pressed his palm to the chest-plate of his opponent. The crimson knight screamed in agony as a pure white light overtook his entire form. Then his body was dissolved and his cries were quieted as his armor fell to the floor, empty.

The knights were in awe. Ranvald just stuck his hand back into his pocket and turned to them.

"Tend to the survivors, and Captain, send four knights down that way," he gestured down the hall with his thumb. "I saw the Undead warrior looking at something around the corner down that way, with his ax in hand as though about to strike. So, I checked with my monocle, and sure enough, I saw the aura of a person making their way through the backrooms of the palace. Someone has entered this place."

"Right, then," the captain answered.

He pointed out four knights from among those who did not engage with the Undead knight. "Sam, Ioan, Clive, and Mads. See to it."

"Yes, Captain!" they all saluted and then took off down the hall.

After they had gone, one of the remaining knights stepped forward.

"What of the dragon, itself, Milord?" he asked.

"I have neither seen nor heard anything to suggest the creature is still in the area," Ranvald replied. "But the presence my monocle has detected is powerful, and it was not here before."

He looked again in the direction of Aelia several rooms away, making more adjustments to keep the aura in sight.

"They've slowed down, or something's slowed them down. Your men should be able to catch up to them, Captain," he reported.

Then he turned to one certain knight, Norm, who had fled the front gate to fetch him and his entourage.

"Now, then, Sir Norman Grendler, correct?" Ranvald asked him.

"Yes, Milord," Norm straightened his stance more.

"You left your post and came to us in fear, while your allies faced this beast alone. You are most fortunate they are somehow still alive," the pale magi sternly explained.

Norm's face fell, and he opened his mouth to speak.

"Save your excuses," Ranvald said. "That will be 20 lashes and a month in the brig when we return to base."

The Captain looked at him in astonishment. "So light a punishment?"

"His punishment is only so light because all the beast did was give them a little scare before vanishing," Ranvald firmly stated. "In any event, 'twas more likely a wyvern that has made a nest not far away. It probably smelled or heard us and came to investigate. I would assume it wasn't hungry and that we are not too near its territory, since no one was killed. Now, Sir Norman, be a good man and go help your fellow the gate guards retrieve the horses. I have no intention of walking home through this accursed kobold-infested wilderness."

"Sir, Milord. By your leave…"

As the soon-to-be-punished knight ran off, the Captain turned to Ranvald again.

"Orders, Milord? Shall we return to searching for the item Archmage Gandar sent us here for?"

"Not just yet," Ranvald answered. He then turned headed towards the back of the room. "Come, I think I know where this intruder is heading. We will cut them off."


"Shit! Shit, shit shit!"

Aelia dove behind a pillar just in time to avoid getting impaled by a series of flying ice spears which either stuck into the other side of the beam or flew past on both sides. The warrior-woman peered around the side of the pillar at her new opponent, which was a dancing figure in the middle of the abandoned servants' quarters.

Garbed in the flamboyant, baggy attire of a jester, the Undead magician spun on the tip of one foot like a ballerina before skipping across the floor towards her. The bells attached to its red jester's cap chimed. Its shirt and pants which were covered in green and blue checkered ruffles. The ends of its red shoes were belled, too. Aelia could not tell if its pale face was covered in white makeup, but it did have black painted-on teardrops under the eyes and a wide painted-on red grin. Its real mouth also grinned, flashing the sharp teeth of an Undead. Its fiery red eyes displayed a hunger for her.

"Oh, are you playing peek-a-boo?" he asked in an annoying high-pitched voice that was obviously being faked as part of his 'stage' persona.

"I'm not playing games," Aelia angrily shouted back.

"Aw, you don't wanna play with me? That's just too bad," the undead jester pretended to wide away tears.

As Aelia felt magic begin to stir in the air again, she pulled out a dagger from her belt, but kept it out of view.

"Gotta wait for the right moment," she thought.

The jester hopped onto its other leg, spinning around again as a magic circle appeared on the ground under it.

"Now!" Aelia jumped out from behind the pillar, and threw the knife at the heart of her foe.

The Undead slid down almost into a full split as the knife sailed past its head. In the same moment it jumped back up, Aelia charged it, swinging in a wide arc from the right. The undead jumped up, floating into the air to avoid the strike. Aelia altered the swing to brace her weapon against the floor and used her momentum to vault into the air. The mercenary woman swung her body around and dropkicked her opponent in the gut. The Undead jester let out an agonized moan as he doubled over under the force of the blow as he was sent flying back. Aelia landed on her back while her enemy crash-landed in the bottom bunk of one of the bunkbeds, causing the support beams to give out and the top bunk to fall on him.

Aelia used her halberd to push herself back up and then sped towards the ruined bunkbed. The upper half of the jester burst from the mattress of the top bunk, but before he could escape Aelia leapt onto the mattress and stabbed the spearhead of her weapon straight through the creature's heart.

"That's not funny…" the Undead jester whined. "That's not…"

Then it crumbled to dust, and was no more.

"Whew," she breathed out in relief.

Then, before she had even withdrawn her halberd, she heard footsteps coming up the route she'd taken.

"This way, I heard a racket in the old servants' quarters. It might be Lord Ranvald's intruder," a deep male voice said.

"What the Hel?" Aelia thought. "How did they find me so fast?"

Sunlight streamed into the dark room from the hallway outside. The roof of that passage had caved in, making for a very uneven and dangerous trek through it. Aelia could hear the knights' grunts as they had to tread carefully over the chunks of roof towards the servants' quarters.

Aelia's eyes narrowed as she decided she was done running from these Villnore knights. However, she backed into the shadows, knowing it'd be foolhardy to just blindly rush in, especially given what was at stake for her friends.

"…For Lamia," she reminded herself.

The warrior-woman lied in wait for the knights, specifically positioning herself against the far side of the wardrobe behind the collapsed bunk. Soon, the shadows of the knights appeared in the oval of light filling the middle of the room.

"They will see the freshly disturbed dust and come over. Then I can get the drop of them," Aelia decided.

Off to the side and in the dark, she stood perfectly still as the shadows of the four men continued to stretch over the room as the heavy clunking of their footsteps and their breathing grew louder.

"This is the servants' quarters. I remember this place from a previous sweep of the grounds," she heard of the men way. "Lord Ranvald said the unknown presence came here. It's dusty enough inside that there should be some clue where they went next."

Aelia felt a chill go down her spine.

"Wait they actually know I'm here? How?" she frantically tried to discern how that was possible.

Within a moment, the first man had crossed into the room and looked around. He spotted the collapsed bunk and the stirred dust in the air. He pointed towards it as the other the filtered in.

"Over there," he said. "Something's happened there just a moment ago. Sir Mads, cover us while we investigate."

"Ay," Mads complied.

He hung back as the other three fanned out into a v-formation formation as they approached the collapsed bunk with the first man in front and the wingmen backing him up on either side.

"Keep a sharp eye out, boys," the lead knight said. "There was an Undying jester who roamed these halls last time. Liked to pelt out spells and then dance away."

"Thank you, Sir Clive, but I was also here last time. I got nicked by a fire spell, remember?" one of the others said.

"I do. We practically had to cut the gauntlet from your arm when it almost melted to it," Clive said.

The other knight shuddered. "Don't make light of that, Sir. You should just be grateful you will likely never know the agony."

"Forgive me, Sam. I meant no offense," Clive said. "Now, about this ruined bunkbed…"

The leader kept his eye on the prize as he neared it while the other two kept an eye out for anything that might try to get the drop on them. Thankfully, the wardrobe was thick enough to completely hide Aelia from view. So, when Clive got down onto a knee to get a closer at the hole left by the Undead jester's attempt to burst out, he still could not see the warrior-woman watching them.

"Just a little closer, and… there you go," Aelia grinned.

One of Clive's companions walked around to other side of the bunkbed from Clive, unknowingly showing her his back as he also tried to examine the bed without blocking his leader's light.

"Tch! Careless," Aelia mentally scolded him.

The third man hung back a bit, planting himself where he could see both his comrades at once. He periodically looked around at his immediate surroundings. As soon as he was looking away again, Aelia slipped out from her hiding spot, and came up behind the man in front of her. She held her halberd out to the side, preparing to take her swing.

"Hey, there are some empty clothes covered in dust stuck between these mattresses," Clive pulled up the jester's empty costume.

He coughed as a whole motherload of dust flew off, creating a mist in the air thick enough none of them could see Aelia even though she was right behind the man across from Clive.

"Bleh! So much dust. I think this intruder might have killed our jester," Clive said.

He tried waving the dust away as he held up the checkered outfit for the other knights to see.

"What say you, Sir Ioan?" Clive asked the knight on the other side of the bunk.

"I say… GAH!" Ioan cried out as something hooked around his ankles and pulled his feet out from under him.

Clive jumped back as his comrade suddenly crashed face-first into the floor. He spotted a figure standing behind Ioan and had just a moment to prepare himself before his attacker seemed to fly at him. In truth, Aelia had jumped forward and used as her halberd as a makeshift pole-vault again. As she launched herself feet-first at him. Clive pulled up his shield just in time for it to take the brunt of the impact, but Aelia's full weight with the inclusion of her armor knocked him into another bunkbed with enough force to tip it over and for him to go falling with it.

"The Hel?" Sam shouted.

He held up his shield and spear as their attacker now turned to him. Aelia did not give Sam enough time to properly size her up before she attacked. Mads dashed forward to support his comrades. Aelia heard him coming and knew she had but a moment to deal with Sam before she would be fighting two knights at once.

Sam raised his shield and stabbed at Aelia with his spear, but she dodged the blow by nimbly sidestepping it. Then she threw herself against the spear's body, knocking it to the side while she swung at him with her halberd. Sam caught the blow with his shield, forcing Aelia's blades to glance off. The mercenary woman then swung the blunt end forward, catching the edge of her opponent's shield with enough force to knock it out of the way. With his front exposed, Sam frantically swung as his spear at her, hoping to knock her away, but Aelia was faster. Striking again with the blunt end of her weapon, she hit dead him in the stomach. Sam grunted painfully as he doubled over and stumbled forward. With his back exposed, Aelia kicked him in the back of the knee and sent him crashing into a pile of miscellaneous junk.

Aelia had no time to breathe as Mads was almost on her, sword and shield readied as he charged her. She glanced down half-broken chair at her feet. She looked at him, quickly judging the angle, and then kicked the hunk of wood at him. It flew up at a steep angle, and bounced off his face.

"Ulf!" Mads was knocked back and fell against an old table in a dazed stupor.

Before he was even aware of what was happening, he was yanked away from the table and held up in a standing position from behind. His flurry, red-tinted vision prevented him seeing anything as his head swam.

"Hey," a voice that sounded a million miles away said.

When he didn't respond, he was suddenly struck harshly on the cheek. Mads was snapped back to the present, though still with foggy vision.

"Hey!" the voice repeated, much clearer and closer this time.

"Huh?" Mads moaned.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to concentrate through the splitting pain in his head. It was only when he felt something cold pressed against his neck that he opened his eyes. Mads looked down and saw a knife held to his jugular. He gasped as all the pieces fell together. He realized one of his arms had been twisted behind his back and he felt another body pressed against his from behind as well. He looked at the face of his captor and was shocked.

"Ugh… bested by a woman," Mads lamented.

Aelia sneered at him, but said nothing.

Sirs Clive, Ioan, and Sam were all picking themselves up from the floor. After shaking off the daze, they looked around and quickly found their enemy. Right away, all three men growled, but did not approach Aelia. She stood behind Mads, holding him in place by his arm and the blade she pressed to his neck. His other arm was held up where Aelia could see it. His sword and shield lay useless on the floor before them.

"Miserable coward!" Clive shouted at her.

"Well, you know what they say about what's fair in war?" Aelia retorted.

"Just who in the realms are you?" Sam demanded.

"I'm asking the questions," she firmly shot back. "You will cooperate, or your friend dies."

"You kill him, you don't have a captive," Clive pointed out.

Aelia just grinned back. "I put you all facedown on the floor once. I can do it again if I must."

"You didn't kill us," Ioan stated. "Why shouldn't we call your bluff?"

"You are only alive because your Lord is less likely to pursue someone who did not slaughter his men, or put a price on their head," Aelia replied. "Besides, only Valkyries can question the dead."

Clive looked into her eyes, and did not see mercy.

"Fine, then," he gave in. "What do you want?"

"I am looking for a man named Grey. I know he came this way," she said. "All the horse tracks through this forest come and go only to this place, so I know he came here. Now, where is he?"

The three men looked among themselves uncertainly.

"That name does not sound familiar," Ioan said.

"Grey? Grey?" Sam mumbled. "I don't know any Greys."

Clive just stood and thought, as there was no Grey among their party, but the name did tickle his memory.

Aelia's expression darkened and she pressed the knife harder against Mads's jugular. He quivered and tried to slowly reach for her wrist. That got him a light cut from the blade tip and he withdrew his hand.

"Don't even try it," she threateningly whispered in his ear.

Then her emerald eyes turned Mads's companions.

"And the rest of you… Do. Not. Lie. To. Me," she warned. "He's a large man in a full suit of dark armor, almost black with a golden cross on the front of his visor. He's a quiet man, keeps to himself, and is all-business."

"Wait," Clive held up a pleading hand. "There is no Grey in our party, but the name does familiar. Just…"

"Stop trying to stall," Aelia growled.

"Erf… Grey? Grey…" Clive struggled to think. He started to breathe harder as panic set in. Just as it seemed as though this woman was about to slash Mads's throat, the answer came to him. "Wait, wasn't that the name of that mercenary who just began working for Archmage Gandar?"

"I…" Ioan uttered. He blinked a few times as he tried to remember and then his eyes lit up with recollection. "Yes, a quiet man who never takes off his armor. I think Grey was his name."

"If he's not here, then where?" Aelia demanded.

Mads tried to shift around to get more comfortable, but Aelia barked a warning at him, making him go still again. In truth, holding someone much larger than herself in place was difficult, and not helping her be patient.

"He's not here," Clive answered. "He did come this way after finishing up some scouting along the northeast territory for His Majesty. He was looking for Crell Monferaigne spies. When he was done, Grey came straight west to these ruins to investigate something for Archmage Gandar."

Aelia felt a tremor go through her body.

"Gandar? King Kraad the 7th's necromancer?" her voice was tight as she asked.

"…Yes," Ioan uneasily answered.

Aelia almost couldn't believe Gray had gotten himself mixed up with a defiler of holy law, but she didn't have time to think about that.

"Well, if Grey's not here, than where is he?" she demanded.

"He'll be back in the Villnore capital still working for His Lordship. We came up to conduct a follow up examination of the ruins," Clive explained.

Aelia narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she soaked in this information.

"Working for Villnore, you traitor. Just what are you doing here, Grey?" she asked herself.

Mads heard her mutter this to herself, so he answered, "That's classified. Only Lord Ranvald knows what we're here for."

"Mads!" Sam hissed at him.

"What, 'tis not like she has a chance against Lord Ranvald," Mads defended himself.

He looked at his captive with a sneer, before tauntingly saying, "You might have bested us, but you won't be leaving this castle with your life."

"We'll see about that. Move," Aelia ordered.

She glanced at his comrades. "All of you, out of the way. Now."

Aelia's grip did not loosen at all as she made Mads awkwardly walk forward off his center of balance. He understood right away they were heading for the other door out of the room, which took them deeper into the castle instead of going back the way they had come in.

Clive, Ian, and Sam all backed away to her right. She passed slowly by while keeping Mads between her and them, turning herself and her captive until they were backing out of the room. Thankfully, the door was open, leaving the way open for Aelia to back herself and Mads through. She glanced behind as they crossed into the next room, which was an intersecting corridor shaped like a half-circle.

Aelia kept the three knights in the corner of her vision.

"Now you all just stay put and do not come after us," she said. "You can run off and to fetch this Lord Ranvald as soon as we're gone, but at the first sign you're following me, Mads will be breathing through his neck."

Clive and the others just glowered at her, but stayed where they were.

"She's good," Ioan quietly admitted.

Neither of his comrades responded, but they couldn't deny it.

Meanwhile, in the next chamber, Aelia kept her head on a swivel, looking between the door they had just exited through and the many all around them.

"Damn it, which way do I go? Wait, are those… footsteps?" Aelia thought.

The echoing sound of clanking footsteps sounded like they could be coming from anywhere and everywhere.

"This way, men. The intruder will have to come through here," someone commanded.

The loud stamping of iron boots quickly became thunderous. Before Aelia could decide on an escape route, one of the doors at midway point flew open and more Villnore knights poured in.

"Shit!" Aelia tensely muttered.

She nearly ran for it, but the first few knights were too quick in running into her path to cut her off. As the rest raced in, they soon showed them to be a force of too many of her fight through.

"Halt! Unhand Sir Mads this instant!" one of them shouted, pointing his sword at her.

"Yeah, right," Aelia sarcastically thought.

Several of the knights began shouting at once, "That's our intruder!" ; "She has Sir Mads!" ; "Captain, we've found the intruder! Lord Ranvald was right."

"Let him go and face us, coward!" another of them roared.

Mads smirked and looked at her in the corner of his eye. She paid him no mind, frantically counting up the number of her opponents, which quickly became went up to twenty lined up in a single row that was spreading out to cut her off from moving in any direction.

"Back off, or he gets it!" she shouted.

"Get her off me, already," Mads hollered.

"Shut up!" Aelia hissed in his ear.

The knights did stop, and looked among themselves as a man who was obviously the captain came to the front of the line. He looked similar to his subordinates, with the only thing make him stand out was the tall white feather frill of his helmet, and the fact he was easily a decade older than the rest.

Aelia heard a noise come from the servants' quarters, so she looked over and saw Clive, Sam, and Ioan also enter the fray, each wearing smug grins. The warrior-woman just growled back at them.

Last came Lord Ranvald, almost casually stepping in behind the knights he'd led around the long way. He was a couple of paces behind the line they formed, examining Aelia closely. He adjusted his monocle again, pinpointing that strange energy which radiated off her.

"Ah, she has some kind of enchanted gem imbedded in one of her gauntlets," he realized. "I wonder if it allowed her to compel the wyvern the guards saw."

He said nothing at first, deciding to let the captain do the talking. The officer took a step towards Aelia, pointing his sword at her challengingly. The warrior-woman hunched to completely hide herself behind Mads, keeping a weary eye on the archers, spearmen, and the pale man who was obviously Ranvald.

"Likely a mage," she thought. "He's unarmed. Nobody comes out to a dangerous place like this without a means of defending themselves."

"You will identify yourself, state your business, release your hostage, and submit yourself to arrest," the captain ordered.

"Kiss my ass," Aelia replied. "You'll back off if you want your man back alive."

"Such coarse language for a lady," the Villnore captain chided.

Aelia was almost amused by that comment, wondering what it was about her that screamed 'proper uptown woman'.

"In any event," the captain added. "You should know the Arkdain Ruins is a restricted zone. Entry is forbidden to anyone without the royal approval of His Majesty, King Kraad the 7th. Trespassing is punishable to the fullest extent of the law, whether it be lifelong imprisonment, enslavement, or the gallows. If you cooperate now, I will guarantee some measure of leniency. I am a man of my word."

"Yeah, well, buddy, I'm a woman of my word," Aelia snapped at him. "And I'm the one with a hostage here."

"Indeed, you are," Ranvald said from the back of the line.

He stepped forward, turning himself sideways to get past the knights.

"Milord, she's armed and dangerous," one of the knights protected.

"Armed, yes," Ranvald dismissively commented as he stepped up beside the captain. "But dangerous?"

He smirked almost in a superior fashion at her.

"At most you force me to write out one more condolence letter before we arrest you," Ranvald tauntingly said. "So, how about it? Just do as the Captain has requested, and make life easier for everyone. What is a lone warrior like you even doing all the way out here? Riches, treasure? There are certainly less forbidden places to search for such things."

"She said she's after Grey, that new mercenary Archmage Gandar sent up here on an advance scouting of the ruins," Clive said.

Aelia glared angrily at him. Ranvald gave Clive a pointed look, and turned back to Aelia, now with a glint in his eyes. He reached up, removing his monocle, and shoving it in his jest pocket. Aelia put more pressure against Mads's throat, recognizing that Ranvald was about to make a move.

"Oh, we could have negotiated something before I knew your end goal will ultimately interfere with Master Gandar's business," Ranvald said. "But now…"

He stretched out his hand towards her and Mads as magical energy flowed through his body and a spell circle appeared at his feet. Both Aelia and her hostage paled as their eyes widened. They both started to panic.

"Hey, wait…" Mads begged. "Lord Ranvald…"

"I apologize in advance, Sir Mads, as this will not be pleasant," the pale magi responded.

"Milord, wait!" the knight captain begged.

Ranvald gave him a cold stare, harshly uttering, "DO NOT INTERFERE!"

The captain stood down, and the leader of their expedition focused on the obstacle which had interrupted their work. Electricity gathered at his fingertips. Aelia gasped, knowing the spell well. Acting on instinct, she pushed Mads forward away from herself.

"LIGHTNING BOLT!"

Several trillion watts shot from Ranvald's fingertips in a straight arc into Mads's chest. Aelia was forced to duck as her former hostage's body was thrown through the air. He sailed over her head, slamming into the stone wall with enough force to break off several pieces of his armor and send it flying everywhere. His smoking corpse landed on the floor loudly, facedown, hiding the horrific burns from view.

Aelia looking around from her crouched position, now exposed and vulnerable to the Villnore knights and their ice-cold expedition leader. Ranvald pointed at her.

"Seize the intruder," he ordered.

As the knights rushed her, Aelia looked down at the Dragon Gem.

"I got no choice."

She grabbed it with her hand, holding it tight. All at once, as the room was filled with the glow she gave off, the knights stumbled back in alarm, letting out startled cries.

"What did she do?" one knight shouted as he covered his face with his forearm.

"I don't know. I can't see her," another shouted.

Only Ranvald remained calm, simply shielding his eyes with his fingers while his subordinates stumbled about blindly.

"My souls burns…." They heard Aelia say from within the light. "My body is brimming with power!"

Then her glowing body grew, filling the far side of the room with her back to the wall. The knights standing closest to her were shoved back and sent rolling away. Ranvald sidestepped being knocked over in the chaos as he kept his eye on his opponent, which was currently a large pillar of light which now reached up to the ceiling. He silently chanted a protection spell.

Then the light extinguished, and they saw what had happened. The men cried out, faces pale, for they gazed upon the large, red draconian beast that had replaced the cornered woman-warrior. They backed away from her in terror, which to Aelia was a pleasing sight after they'd been so smug just a few seconds prior. She glanced at Ranvald.

"I can sense he's got a spell prepared," she thought. "Doesn't feel like attack magic, though. Very well, I'll make 'em give me a little elbow room."

Down among the knights, Ranvald's brow wrinkled for just a moment before his mouth opened in a silent "Ah," as the pieces fell into place.

"So, this vagabond was the dragon the guards at the gate encountered," Ranvald muttered.

"What?" the knight captain gaped at him.

The officer's query was interrupted by a sound like wind whistling through a cave. It filled the room, and was coming from the dragon. The captain looked up and let out a small, terrified moan when he saw Aelia taking in a large breath.

"She intends to burn us! Bring her down! Bring her down!" he ordered, frantically pointing at her.

"No, stay back!" Ranvald commanded.

He stretched out a hand to the side to motion for the knights not to step past where he stood. They stopped, and Ranvald unleashed the power he'd prepared, causing his own body to glow as a magic circle appeared under him.

"SHIELD!" he intoned.

At the same time Aelia cut loose with a streaming blast of fire, Ranvald's protective spell activated, and the flames pounded almost harmlessly against it. The knights could feel the intense heat upon their faces so intensely it was as though they were in an oven as Aelia raked the flame spewing from her mouth from one end of the room to the next. When she stopped, she would have given her enemy a very pleased smirk if her lips were presently capable of it. Ranvald's spell had protected his subordinates and himself, but the debris which covered the floor had began burning in a half-circle around her, preventing them from rushing her right away.

"Archers!" the captain commanded.

Aelia wasted no time and turned to face one of her shoulders to the wall.

"I'm not wastin' my time with these guys. I'm comin' for you, Grey," was her resolved thought.

She threw herself against the stone wall, and busted right on through in an impact which shook the whole room. It caused Ranvald and his men to stumble. Parts of the ceiling fell down from above as it began to collapse, forcing the knights to shield themselves. The captain jumped in close to Ranvald, holding up his shield to protect them both.

"It's all coming down!' The captain shouted. "Retreat, men! That's an order!"

The captain then turned himself and his lordship around, and ran for one of the exits. The air was filled with the rapid clanking of metal armor, and the rumble of wood and stone collapsing as the Villnore knights made their frantic retreat through any door they could, all while trying to avoid being crushed by the incoming hail of debris.

As soon as they'd reached an open door, the captain shoved Ranvald through first before practically throwing himself through the threshold, landing roughly on his hands and knees. Ranvald stood a short distance ahead of him, almost doubled over. He braced his hands against his knees as he breathed hard, almost to the point of hyperventilating. Sweat poured down Ranvald's face as the skinny, pale man caught his breath.

He spared a glance over his shoulder to see if anyone was with him. He counted three knights and the captain before looking at the door. It was blocked with stone and long boards now. He could hear more knights not far away in other rooms to either side. So he took in the state of his men. The captain seemed fine, albeit winded and still on his knees, though the three knights looked a little worse for wear.

Ranvald straightened up and took his monocle back out. He was delighted to see it hadn't become covered in dust while in his vest pocket, so with its help, he took in their surroundings, noting they were in the corridor which led to the grand dining hall. He barely paid that any thought, looking at the debris tightly packed against the door, blocking any means of returning to that room, at least through that way.

"That woman…" Ranvald muttered. "She transformed into a dragon, just like the ancients of the Dragon Tribe, but that gem in her gauntlet..."

He considered the ramifications of that gem. Current academia knew so hilariously little about the old dragon tribe, he couldn't be sure of anything. Was the dragon tribe a race of people who used magic gems to turn into dragons, or was it something they were born with and that gem was something else entirely?

"Either way, we must not let her escape," he concluded.

He held up his right arm, as though to call a bird to perch on it.

"Skye, Khisanth, I summon thee," he commanded.

A pair of small dragon Familiars materialized and perched on his forearm. One was blue and the other black.

"What's all this?" one of his knights asked. "I thought magi could only forge a pact with one Familiar at a time?"

"Maybe one's Archmage Gandar's?" another suggested.

Ranvald ignored him, focusing only on the little reptilian creatures awaiting his commands.

"What is our bidding, our master?" they asked.

"Skye," he addressed the blue one first. "Go, find the crimson dragon which just collapsed that room and then follow her day and night, no matter where she goes. Do not lose her. She has a human form. Redheaded and wearing faded green plate-armor."

"Yes, my master," Skye bowed low.

Then he took off, turning transparent and passing through the rubble.

"Khisanth," he now instructed the other Familiar. "Go to my master and tell him his apprentice and his expedition team have potentially encountered a surviving member of the old Dragon Tribe. Also be certain to inform him I will not fail in retrieving the item we discussed. Now go."

"Of course, my master," Khisanth similarly bowed.

She then vanished instead of flying.

"This could be exactly the break in my master's studies we've been hoping for," Ranvald thought.

He about-faced, deciding to waste no time in pressing forward.

"Fall in," he ordered his men. "We must regroup and tend to the wounded. Then we shall quickly retrieve what we came for."

"With respects, Milord… but after what just happened?" the captain protested. "We're wounded, our numbers dwindling, and there's still the Undead to contend with!"

"That is an order," Ranvald answered. "Now fall in."

The knights, winded and sore, looked at Ranvald as though he were a madman, but a hard stare from him had them on their feet and filed in behind him. The captain limped up, taking his place beside their expedition leader.

"Good. Onward!" Ranvald ordered.

As they pressed forward, the knights actually found themselves having difficulty keeping up with their leader's quick, urgent strides. It left them wondering how he was the one who'd somehow not sustained any injury.


Brego's head and ears perked up as the loud flapping of wings filled his hearing. He pulled against the lead-rope which tied him to one of the massive roots Aelia had left him under and he reared up, whinnying as he tried to escape. A shadow passed over the area, and the horse smelled the familiar Sulphur-like scent of a dragon, and began panicking. Something heavy hit the ground just outside.

There was a flash, and then the source of the smell was gone, but Brego was still panicked. He stamped and pulled on his rope, ringing out another whinny as he heard something approaching from outside the roots. Then his master stepped through one of the spaces between them, leaning to steady herself. Brego gave a small jump, snorting and stamping to get Aelia's attention to alert her it was time to go. His ears went flat when she didn't move, but just kept staring at him. After a moment, even the simple mind of the horse began to catch on that something was wrong with his master. Her eyes were hungry, like she was sizing him up for a meal, a look he'd seem on many a wolf he'd been forced to stomp to death while out in the wilderness bearing Aelia on his back.

He was not mistaken. Aelia stood, with her arms wrapped around the base of the massive tree root. She let out several rough, almost growling breaths as she looked at him. Though she had returned to human form, her mind had given into the beast during her escape from Ranvald's men. She returned to Brego operating on instinct. She let go of the roots, walking with a hunched forward, primal gate. Her stomach growled and this tender morsel of meat would fill her belly. She unsheathed her halberd from her back as she approached.

Then, once she was within just a few running paces, she bolted forward with her weapon raised. As her ax went up, Brego recognized what his master intended and jumped forward a step with his head lowered, butting her in the chest. Although her plate-mail protected her, the blow knocked her down and she hit the ground hard enough to go rolling while her weapon came to rest a short distance away. She came to rest on her back, staring up at the intertwining roots which made up the ceiling.

Aelia blinked.

"Huh?" she uttered as her mind cleared.

She looked around, taking a moment to realize where she'd ended up.

"Under the tree?" she muttered in confusion.

She slowly sat up, still bewildered.

"Wait, when did I…?" she asked, uncertain of many things.

The first of which was how she had ended up back under the roots of the gigantic tree so quickly after busting out of the ruins. Secondly, why was she human again, and sitting on the ground? And why did she feel like she'd just been hit several times with a smithy's hammer?

She heard the familiar sounds of Brego, and looked at him. He was presently trying to pull free of the root she had tied him to.

"Hey, boy," she called.

He responded by trying to put himself on the other side of the root. Aelia was hurt, wondering why he suddenly didn't seem to trust her.

"Brego?" she asked in a whisper.

She painfully and sluggishly climbed to her feet. Then, she slowly approached him. He snorted, stamped, and made several alarmed noises with his throat. Aelia held up her hands in a calming fashion.

"Hey now, calm down, big guy. It's me," she soothed him.

Brego again pulled back, rearing up as another whinny erupted from him. Aelia raised a finger to her lips, frantically shushing him. She stopped her approach, waiting for him to calm down. As soon as he stopped struggling against his lead-rope, she inched towards him, speaking calmly and quietly.

"Easy, easy, boy," she cooed.

Before he could threw another fit, Aelia grabbed his lead-rope and wrestled with him in attempt to keep him from rearing up. This tug-o'-way went on for minutes, with Aelia gently soothing her horse until he began to calm down. As soon as his pulls against the rope lessened, she quit holding on with both hands, holding up one of them up for him to see.

"Come on, Brego," she gently cooed. "See? It's safe. All good, all good."

Then she slowly reached under the chin and scratched him there. His simple horse mind fought against the urge to give in a moment longer, but then she itched a spot he'd been having a terrible time with. Aelia smiled as Brego calmed down and lowered his head, allowing himself to enjoy the attention. Then she stroked him along the front of his face with her other hand, positioning herself to look him in the eye.

"Look at me, look at me," she softly told him. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did while I was blacked out, I'm sorry. It's over. See, it's me now."

Brego was mostly at peace now. He could still smell dragon in the air, and that was it coming off his master threw him off a bit. However, when she called him, he did look into her emerald greens. Now, instead of the hungry predator animal, he saw the familiar gaze of the master who had rode on his back for over a decade. He dismissed the beast she became as some "other", welcoming her back.

For Aelia's part, she was still wondering what had happened while the beast was in control, and it troubled her. Seeing her halberd cast aside could only mean that she had taken it in hand.

"Against you, boy?" she asked.

She hugged him around his long snort, lightly padding him along the side of his neck. She looked at the Dragon Gem in her gauntlet, now with more suspicion than ever.

"Just what are you doing to me?" she asked.

She had to push the thought aside for the time being. She hadn't found Grey, but she did get another meet to his whereabouts, and it seemed his work for Gandar was going to be extensive. Aelia also had to avoid running into those knights and their mage leader. Out in the open, they could overwhelm her and if she were forced to use the gem again…

Aelia cut that line of thinking off as she untied Brego. They had to get moving before they were discovered. She began leading him away, walking him into the wilderness so his tracks would be shallower and easier to miss. She retrieved her halberd on the way out, and then found a smaller trail, as she dared not travel the main road until she was certain Villnore knights were gone.

"Workin' for that rat bastard Gandar, eh, Grey?" Aelia thought with a sneer. "Fine. Looks like I might be callin' on the others for backup if we want to get ahold of you."

Then, as soon as they were on the small side trail, she climbed onto Brego's back and off they rode at a slow pace to keep the noise down. Aelia kept an eye and ear out in case they were discovered, all the while looking for human opponents, but failing to the notice the small creature tailing her from above.


"Fascinating. Is that really all?"

"Yes, Master Gandar, Khisanth says that was Lord Ranvald's message, word for word," the small dragon Familiar replied.

"I see," Gandar said with a smile. "Thank you, Verminard. That will be all. Go, Khisanth. Return to Ranvald and tell him I will be ready."

Both dragon Familiars bowed and then vanished, leaving the old archmage alone.

Gandar grinned and ran his fingers through his white horseshoe mustache. He had a narrow, wrinkled aged face with sagging cheeks, and liver spots. His balding white head was unkempt and wild. As he stood up from his chair, his faded red scale, and plate armor clinked and rattled. Years of a being a military mage had taught him the benefits of having leather and metal between him and a knife. He leaned on a cane with a skull head.

"So, she seeks that new mercenary, huh?" Gandar said. "Heh! She will come here and save me the trouble of needing to find her."

He chuckled in anticipation.

"Oh, dear girl, we will be ready for you with a surprise of our own when you arrive," he whispered cleverly. "You can count on it. Then, once we have you in our... kindly company, you will lead me to the Dragon Orb, the ultimate power to make even the gods bow before me."