Faith: Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning Season 1 Chapter 3: The fae of Gorhart, Part 1, a Buffy: The Vampire Slayer + Kingdoms of Amalur Crossover fanfic

Chapter Three: The Fae of Gorhart, Part 1

It had been a long day, and all three of them were tired because of it, but they could see lights in the distance. At long last, they had reached civilization, without anymore attacks from Tuatha. They had passed a few wild Fae, but they had done nothing to stop them.

"Finally," Faith grumbled. "My feet are hurting something fierce. Hopefully, they have boots that actually fit!"

"I'm just hoping the inn is open," Agarth said. "A hot meal, a cold pint of mead, and a nice bed is just what we need after the day we've had."

Gwyn nodded, rubbing her neck. "I'm hoping for that, as well as my contact being here. He'll be able to get a message sent to the nearest WarSworn base, so they can prepare for a possible incursion."

After that, well, things did become a bit more complicated. The money the Gnome gave her would only last so long. She was clearly being hunted by the Tuatha for reasons beyond her simply being brought back from the dead. At least she was able to find Agarth, but so far they hadn't really had the chance to do much of anything. She was pretty happy with her new sword, so that was something.

"And here we are, Gorhart." The Fate Weaver gave a semi dramatic wave of his hand. "Furthest settlement from the main cities. It's also practically unknown to the rest of the continent."

"Any particular reason?" Faith asked.

Gwyn sighed. "It's mostly because of the fact that this is a refuge village," she replied. "Most of these people fled the cities to avoid being drafted into the war, or because they had lost everything because of it. They can never return to their former lives, even if they wanted to."

"Stop right there!"

Agarth sighed as the voice intruded on their conversation. "They do still have guards, of course, and they are very diligent." He stepped forward. "Hello, Julianne! How are things today?"

The guard, Julianne, relaxed upon seeing him. "Agarth, how nice of you to return," she said. "And Lady Anwy. I can assume that you found nothing at the ruins."

Gwyn smiled slightly. "Actually, I did. But that's not important right now. We had an encounter with some Tuatha earlier, and I need to make my report."

Faith noted how quickly the Guard's face paled at learning that. "Don't worry," she interjected before the other woman entered a full blown panic, "they won't be going anywhere near Gorhart. None of them survived. We made sure of that."

"Well, thank the Gods for that. If they had decided to, I'm pretty sure we wouldn't be able to stop them." Julianne stepped aside. "Well, as you prevented a potential bloodbath, I think we can trust you…"

"Faith. My name is Faith."

"Faith. Welcome to Gorhart. Please stay out of trouble, here. Agarth, you know the rules."

"Yes, I do. And I did pay my tab before I left the last time." Agarth rolled his eyes. "And I promise that I will not look at anyone's fate while I'm here." With that, they entered the village.

A slight smirk appeared on Faith's face. "Do they tell you that every single time you come here?" she asked him, amused.

"Pretty much," Agarth replied. "I only asked once, and that was three years ago. And it wasn't really bad. As far as I know, the man is still alive… unless he aged fifty years in three."

"Oh." With that question out of the way, Faith took a moment to really look at the village they were in.

It was, in her opinion, quite quaint. She liked it. And, judging by the number of people milling about, she wasn't the only one. However, there was something else that she could see that wasn't visible. Something that shouldn't be here… at, not so near the surface.

Fear.

It seemed to reverberate in the air, and seemed out of place in such an idyllic setting. It was almost as if they were expecting an attack at some point. But it couldn't be the Tuatha they were afraid of, could it?

"What are they worried about?" she asked Gwyn quietly. "I don't think they have to worry about the enemy coming for them... at least, they didn't use to."

"Well, there is that threat, as we know already," Gwyn replied quietly. "However, there is another problem that has grown over the last decade." She sighed. "Because the Crystal War has lasted for so long, most of the local militias had been made into soldiers and sent to Mel Senshir. As a result, there is a distinct lack of able bodies to patrol the roads. Most companies have begun hiring mercenaries to protect their shipments due to this." She sighed. "And not everyone simply runs to here. A large number of deserters have joined some of the bandit groups spread throughout the regions. Because of this, small groups that would have not been a thought to even the local governments have steadily become an ever increasing threat. This region, for example, is now currently under the control of the Red Bandits, a relatively new force in the criminal underworld who have nonetheless made quite an impact."

"And Gorhart is their primary target."

"Pretty much. The village has had a few isolated raids over the last decade, though they didn't do a whole lot of damage."

"What is their main goal?"

"No one knows,' Agarth replied. "If I were to take a guess though, I would say that they're preparing to attack the Summer Fae." He brightened. "Ah, there's the Inn, now." He immediately made a beeline for it, the two ladies following right behind him.

"Why would they want to attack the Summer Fae?" Faith asked. "The Summer Fae did nothing to them."

Gwyn snorted. "As if that matters anymore. Most of these people see no difference between them. Others blame them for not getting involved in the war when the Tuatha began their attack. The Red Bandits in particular, hate all Fae, and would like to kill as many of them as they possibly can."

"...Like her?"

"Huh? ...Oh. …She must be new."

The Fae that both women had noticed was of a similar skin tone to those they had fought so recently, but that was where the similarities ended. This one had purplish hair, and was wearing clothes that appeared almost plant like. And there was one more obvious difference that Faith took notice of.

There was no madness in her eyes. Instead, there was a child-like wonder radiating off of her as she took in the village.

"Is that… a Summer Fae?" Faith finally asked.

Gwyn nodded. "Looks like she came from the House of Ballads," she replied. "It's the only Fae outpost near enough for her to travel from." She smiled. "Definitely different from what we encountered before, right?"

"Right."

Neither one of them really saw a need to go bother the young Fae, who was really doing nothing but exploring. They simply entered the Inn.

Gwyn gestured over at the bar. "I think we found Agarth's favorite place in the world," she noted, grinning at the sight of Fate Weaver already enjoying a pretty good sized tankard of ale.

Faith sighed as they walked over to the bar, looking at the bartender. "Please tell me that he at least got us some rooms before getting a drink."

Agarth grinned. "Don't worry, ladies," he replied. "I managed to get us two rooms. You two can share one, and I'll take the other."

Faith sighed, before turning her attention back to the bartender. "We could also use some dinner. Anything good?"

The bartender shrugged. "We have meat and potatoes, which is our specialty."

"We'll take three," Gwyn ordered immediately. "And how about we get a table, Fate Weaver? You do have something to take care of, after all."

Sighing, Agarth rose, following them over to an empty table. "Miss Anwy, I have to ask, why are you staying with us?" he inquired. "I thought you needed to talk to your contact."

"You're right… and there he is. I'll be right back." She quickly made her way over to a man with a mohawk, and began speaking to him in hushed tones.

"Well," Agarth took a quick look around as they sat down, "while she's busy, let's see if we can learn anything about you. Give me your hand, palm up."

Faith sighed, doing as he instructed. "I thought you promised not to read anyone's fate while here," she reminded him.

The Fate Weaver grinned. "I promised not to read any of the fates of the people living here," he retorted. "You don't live here, last I recall. Now, just be quiet, and let me work."

Sighing again, Faith stayed silent as Agarth caused the flicker of Fate energy to appear again, this time focusing it on her palm. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the lines of her hand began to glow faintly. She watched Agarth as he leaned in slightly, seemingly tracing the lines in a certain pattern without even touching them. She wondered what he could see.

Judging from the way his brow was furrowing, his gaze becoming more intense as time went by, what he was seeing wasn't very enlightening.

He finally focused his attention back at her fully, just as Gwyn sat down again. "Well… that was different," he said quietly. "You are definitely unique."

"...You found something. A clue as to what I'm supposed to do."

"...No, I didn't. In fact, I didn't find anything at all."

Gwyn blinked for a second. "Hold on, that can't be right," she stated. "From what I remember from my research, everyone has a fate. Even if it's her inevitable death, you should be able to see that."

Agarth was about to answer, but a waiter showed up with their food and two more mugs of ale. He waited until the young dokkalfar had moved off, before leaning in. "Under normal circumstances, you're right. I should be able to See her place in Fate… but, I literally see nothing. She's akin to a blank slate, meaning she can literally make her own destiny. And, considering how you healed back at the ruins, it's a safe bet that it will be very difficult to kill you a second time." He leaned back. "I think it may have something to do with the fact that you already died, and were forcibly resurrected by a gnome made device. Because your fate was already fulfilled, you may not have a destiny at all."

Faith frowned a little at that. "Well, that doesn't really sound very good. Has that ever happened before?"

"Honestly, I doubt it. Then again, no one has ever returned from the dead, either. This is a completely new situation for both of us." He thought for a second, before snapping his fingers. "I think our best bet will be to check in with a colleague of mine. A fellow Fate Weaver by the name of Arden. He's no friend, but he does have a good eye for the tapestry."

Faith nodded in understanding, before focusing on her food. She had had a feeling that her search for answers wasn't going to be easy, but to have only a few broken images, and combat skills that spoke of a warrior twice her age as her only clues showed her just how much of a climb she had. It was quite annoying.

Gwyn sighed, watching her new friend as she ate. "Not having the answers you desire… it's quite the bitter draft, isn't it," she mused. "I've been there myself."

Faith looked at her in surprise. "You, really?"

"Yes. In fact, I'm sure you remember Agarth's observation of me back at the ruins, about my choice of profession. Well, there is a reason for that. My parents were Warsworn as well."

"Seriously?" Agarth set his mug down, leaning forward. "They must have told you stories of their adventures before the Crystal Wars."

"...Actually, they died when I was a child, so I never heard many of those stories."

Agarth winced, clearly sorry that he had brought it up. "My apologies, Lady Anwy," he said.

Gwyn shrugged. "Don't worry about it," she replied. "I studied archaeology and joined the Warsworn about five years ago because, as it turned out, they actually do need those type of people. There are a large number of artifacts that are so dangerous that they can never be seen by the public. My job is to catalog each artifact, and make sure that it's still in our vault."

Faith nodded. "So essentially, they need someone like you to tell them whether or not any items they find are really dangerous," she guessed.

"Exactly. It's also why I'm assigned to Helmgard Keep, as it's the closest base to the vault."

The Almainian nodded, before focusing on her dinner again. A Warsworn did indeed sound like a wonderful line of work. "Sounds fun."

Gwyn nodded. "Yeah… if you also accept the possibility of dying on your very first mission. The Warsworn are not known for easing someone into their way of life."

"Ah… I think I'm going to pass on joining, then. I get the feeling I'm going to be a little busy surviving the Tuatha."

"Good idea." Agarth finally finished his meal, taking another draft of his drink. "Well, I'm going to turn in. I'll leave you two to talk." With that, he rose up, heading over to the bar to pay for their food.

Gwyn shook her head. "So, you remember nothing from your past life?" she asked quietly.

Faith sighed. "That's correct, aside from a few fragmented images. Nothing about family, friends, relationships… possible embarrassments."

Gwyn smirked. "Madam, we've only known each other for a few hours. Embarrassing moments come much later."

The Almain woman returned the smirk, and was about to make a teasing request about hearing some embarrassing stories about her, when she noticed something had changed.

The inn had become very quiet.

Gwyn, it seemed also noticed this, and looked up. Her expression suddenly became more somber. "Well, well," she whispered, "she's still here."

"Who?" Faith turned toward the door to take in the person who had stepped in.

It was an older dokkalfar female, with blond hair slicked back. She had clearly been a soldier once, considering how she held herself, but there was an air of defeat to her. Something had happened to her, something that had clearly broken her. But, judging from the lack of empathy from everyone else in there, no one seemed to care. Or, at worst, everyone felt like she deserved to feel like that.

Faith observed her for a second more, before turning back to Gwyn. "Who is that?" she asked. "And why does she seem so… alone?"

Gwyn sighed. "That, Faith, is Tilera. She was the general in charge of the defense of Klurikon during the opening years of the war. She was forced to retreat to Mel Senshir when the Tuatha literally overwhelmed every single outpost throughout the continent. She was recalled back to Rathir for debriefing, and then was summarily discharged." Her gaze softened a little as she took in the other elf's posture as she got her food. "There was no way she was going to defend all of that territory against a threat like the Tuatha, and yet that was exactly what they expected her to do. It would be a no-win situation for anyone."

"And so she just came here."

"I heard that she first tried to join one of the local militias, and even attempted to create one of her own. But no one wanted anything to do with her. She apparently showed up here a few years ago, and that was that."

Faith hmmed, looking over at Tilera one more time as she ate. A part of her sympathized with her, being put into a situation where there were no good choices. "Well, let's go get some sleep. We'll need our strength for tomorrow."

Gwyn nodded, the two women standing up and walking to the stairs. They were going to have a very long day tomorrow, and would need to have their strength and wits about them. Not to mention a whole lot of luck.

Gwyn however, took one last look at Tilera, who was didn't look up for any reason. She couldn't help but wonder; had she successfully defended Klurikon, could the war have ended by now? Or was the destruction of the young races a seemingly inevitable fate?

She hoped not

Illuvia had to admit; the Dustling village was far more interesting than she had originally thought. A shame that Hallum and the rest of the members of that stuffy House couldn't see past their old stories. Otherwise, they would see a world full of new stories, just waiting to be written and experienced.

She had arrived in the morning, much to the shock of everyone living there. Not that she was surprised. Despite the fact that the House of Ballads was almost on their doorstep, her people tended to keep to themselves. And, while she was proud to be a part of the Ballads, even she could admit that they all looked very similar in both look and build.

But these Dustlings… some were thin, others rotund. There were the tall elves and the short gnomes. Everyone looked different, some wearing some sort of ornaments in their ears, while others had none. Some had beards, while others were completely without hair. Even their faces and eyes all looked different. At most, the greatest difference among the Fae were mostly hair styles and personalities. Other than that, all males were the same in every single way, and so were the females. It was just how they were created.

Another difference was the way relationships worked. If a Fae had a love in their story, that was their love throughout all eternity. Not so for Dustlings, who could have a single love, or many throughout their brief lives. And Dustlings were so tactile with their affection, unlike fae.

She wondered what it would feel like to lay with a dustling. She wondered if any fae would find the courage to do that.

As she was thinking about all of that, she caught sight of something that she had a feeling she wasn't supposed to see; that of a male furtively stepping out from behind one of one of their structures. Taking a look around, he starting walking toward the town square.

Illuvia decided to follow him, curious as to where he was going and what he was doing. And who knows? Perhaps she would see a new story in the making. One could only hope.

If only she knew what was going to happen…

Gwyn sighed. "Only one bed," she murmured. "Think we can both squeeze in it?"

Faith shrugged. "If it's necessary, I can sleep on the floor. Can't be worse than waking up in a pile of corpses," she stated off handedly.

"Lovely image, there."

"Sorry." She hadn't really given her comment any real thought. Then again, it had been one hell of a day for her, so she could be excused for this. She took a quick look around the room, just to see if another image would appear.

Her gaze landed on a full length mirror set up next to the room's dresser. Giving in to her curiosity, she went over to look herself over. After all, she only knew what her face looked like, and a report really doesn't do a person any justice when compared to a visual inspection.

Upon her inspection, she decided that a report really didn't her any justice. No amount of paper could put into words how well put together she was.

Gwyn walked up next to her, nodding. "You know, I wasn't going to say anything, but you could probably be a dancer or model if you become tired of being a warrior," she noted casually. "You are a very beautiful woman."

The Almanian shrugged absentmindedly, focusing more on rotating her arms. "Fine muscle tone, no limit to movement. If nothing else, I definitely kept up with exercise." She frowned as she looked at her unmarked flawless skin. "You know, for some strange reason, I expected to see a pretty decent number of scars, and some wrinkles. Maybe when I died, I was a lot older than now."

Gwyn shrugged, deciding not to comment on that strange statement. The whole day had been very strange. And while she didn't really understand this whole Well of Souls business, she couldn't really fault the end result. She gave the other woman another once over, appreciating the other woman's figure.

"Hey… what in the world is this?" Faith suddenly asked, pulling the sleeve of her shirt up. Gwyn abruptly looked away, a faint blush on her cheeks. She was about to try and come up with an excuse as to why she had been, for no good reason, checking her out, when she noticed that Faith's attention was focused on her own arm. Curious, she looked as well.

There, on her right upper arm, lay a strange symbol. Two circular swirls that connected at the thickest parts, before branching out in two lines, ending at sharp points. Smaller protrusions occurred at seemingly random points, creating a rather beautiful image. It seemed almost tribal in design.

"Is that… a tattoo?" Gwyn asked curiously.

"That would imply that I got a tattoo after being brought to life," Faith replied. "It probably was in my last life. Now though… I think it's part of my skin." She looked at it more closely, rubbing it. "I wonder what it means. Have you ever seen anything like this before?"

Gwyn shook her head. "No, can't say that I have. I would think that it looks like a troll's brand, but this is too intricate. Maybe it's an Almanian rite of passage."

"Maybe…" a yawn shut off all remaining thoughts of this newest mystery. "How about we get some sleep, and then try and figure it out tomorrow."

"Good idea."

Illuvia was starting to think that following these dustlings through the village was a particularly bad idea.

They had been moving back and forth through the residential area, trying to keep their movements completely random as they avoided the guard patrols. And they apparently believed that they were being followed. (They weren't wrong.) But the biggest thing that clued her into her having second thoughts? Despite their completely justifiable paranoia, they were still moving with complete confidence, as if they knew just where to go and what they were going to do.

She didn't have much experience with dustling behavior, but she knew through some of her people's stories that this usually meant that they were doing something that… wasn't exactly good.

Hiding behind a building, she watched as the group approached one building in particular, stopping at the door. The door opened, and another male exited, a travel bag in one hand and what looked like a scroll in the other. Again, she was not an expert, but she got the distinct feeling that he wasn't supposed to have that.

And then they began to talk, and what they were saying was truly terrifying to her. Why? Why were they going to do that? The House of Ballads had done nothing to them! She had to warn them! She had to warn the Dustlings here! She made to go, to try and find one of the guards.

"Didn't your parents tell you that it wasn't nice to snoop around other people's business?"

She turned around again, taking a look at the Dustling that now stood almost right next to her. (How did he get over to her so fast?) A thrill of fear shot through her at the look of pure sadistic joy in his eyes, the cruel smirk spreading his lips… and the knife that was already burying itself into her stomach, which helped to drive the air from her body alongside the fist that slammed into her face.

She hadn't even had the chance to scream.

Faith slowly woke up to feel a pressure on her chest. And, in the few seconds before she remembered where she was, she began to have a panic attack. Thankfully, the softness of the material beneath her helped remind her where she was before she did something really stupid, and hurt her bed mate. Once she calmed down, she took a look at said bed mate... who had definitely not been there when she had fallen asleep.

After a brief discussion, Gwyn had stated that Faith should get the bed, as she had had the more painful day. Faith thought about arguing with her, but the resolute look in her eyes put a kibosh on that. Clearly, the dokkalfar was used to sleeping on the floor. Yet, at some point during the night, she had migrated to the bed and, without waking up Faith, had managed to cuddle against her. 'Probably due to her training,' the almanian thought, smirking. She gave her new friend a quick poke on the cheek.

Gwyn slowly woke up, took one look at Faith, and blushed a deep violet as she quickly got out of bed. "Oh… morning," she mumbled. "Sorry about this."

"Can I assume that you enjoy waking up with something or someone within hugging distance?" Faith asked teasingly as she sat up. "Because if that's the case, I'll be more than happy to play the part." Okay, she was also flirting a little bit, as she was far more relaxed now than she was the day before. Yesterday really hadn't been a good day for her.

Gwyn actually managed to go even darker at that. "Well, we now know two things. You like flirting, and you know my biggest weakness. I'm not sure that's a good thing."

Chuckling, Faith looked over at the window, noting that the sky was starting to lighten up. "Well, it's morning. We should probably get one last breakfast before we part ways."

"Good idea."

Quickly dressing, the two exited the room, running into Agarth along the way. Mornings were exchanged as they made their way downstairs. Gwyn's slowly receding blush was never addressed, for which the Dokkalfar was grateful for.

"Now then," Agarth stated after they had ordered their breakfast and sat down at a table. "Arden lives a few miles from the village. The area is pretty good when it comes to reading Fates, due to certain temples nearby. If nothing else, he should be able to help you."

"...Do you really think he can?" Faith asked.

"I don't know. All I know is that the world is changing, has been changing for some time, and you are proof of it… or the cause. If he can't figure it out, then forces are at work far beyond our ken."

Gwyn leaned in slightly, a slightly despondent air about her. "Now I wish I was sticking around," she lamented. "This is the most exciting quest I have ever heard about, and I have to go back to my stuffy Keep."

The Fate Weaver chuckled as their food arrived. "I can assure you Lady Anwy, that it's not as exciting as it sounds." He picked his spoon. "If anything, you'd probably do nothing but sit in a chair and struggle not to enter a coma."

Faith snorted, bringing her own spoon to her mouth…

… only to drop it when someone stormed into inn, screaming, "There's a Fae outside, lying right next to the well!" The spoon fell back into the bowl, and she was out of her seat, her companions following her example.

And sure enough, right at the well, hands tightly pressed over a wound in her abdomen, was the very Fae they had seen wandering Gorhart just last night. The Fae that was most definitely in pain from said wound, blood coating her hands and side.

And what appalled Faith most of all was that no one was trying to help her. Instead, they milled about, just watching as the poor soul writhed in agony. She immediately knelt right next to her, checking her for further injuries. And she did have other injuries. Aside from being stabbed, she had also been beaten brutally. She would be lucky if she didn't have any broken bones or damaged organs, but she was badly bruised.

Reacting quickly, she picked the Fae up, heading back into the Inn. "Gwyn, inform the guards about this!" she called out. "Agarth, see if you can find the Healer!" Her attention shifted to the Innkeeper. "Do you have any empty room that I can place her in so she is out of the public eye?"

"You can use the back room!" the innkeeper quickly replied, probably sensing that saying no would be the wrong answer in this instance.

Faith quickly made for that room, setting her down on the bed. "Come on, don't you die on me," she whispered. "Don't give those people out there the satisfaction."

"Thankfully the Fae are a study bunch, something her attacker didn't take in consideration," the Healer stated in relief, finishing his observations of the young creature. "Any other species would have been long dead from the sheer amount of damage that was caused. But her healing abilities are already repairing most of her injuries. She should up an about in a few days… save for one detail."

"The stab wound," Gwyn guessed.

"Yes. Whatever was on the blade is preventing the wound from closing. If I didn't know any better, I would dare say that she had been poisoned." He sighed. "It won't kill her outright, but if left untreated, she will die in about a week's time."

Herc Ofwold, the head of the village militia and the only one to actually arrive, sighed. "What about using our own healing items?" he asked. "I hate to sound impersonal, but we do need to question her about her assault."

"...Unfortunately, our current stash of Healing items are not enough. That very resiliency also has a detrimental effect on healing them, and if you use too much of a certain potion, you can end up poisoning them.

Faith nodded, sighing. "How long has she been here?" she asked.

"She only just arrived yesterday morning. Probably curious about our settlement. It's not the first time a Fae has come to Gorhart, and it hopefully won't be the last. What concerns me is that this was done to a member of the House of Ballads. If this were to be considered a grievous offense by them…"

Faith nodded. "They would come here to exact justice," she replied, remembering the conversation from yesterday. "We should probably let them know that something happened to her."

Herc held up a hand. "Actually, before we do that, we should try and help her."

"How?"

"Well… there is another Fae living in the forest near here. She isn't doing anything dangerous, simply observes the village. I think she finds us fascinating, though not enough to enter. For some reason, I doubt this attack on her kin escaped her notice."

"So why hasn't she come down here to check on her?" Faith asked, before smacking herself. "Never mind, I know why. She doesn't think it would be safe enough, especially after what happened."

The Healer sighed, having had the same thought. "Is our fear of the Tuatha so great that we now interpose it on the innocent?" he asked rhetorically. "Has it come to the point that we would kill even those innocent in cold blood?" He checked the bandages, nodding. "At the very least, the bleeding has stopped. Whether or not that is a good thing is up for debate. I know very little of the Fae."

"Well, that settles it." Agarth stood up. "Herc, I'd like to look at the spot she was found in, then try and piece together what happened. Hopefully, we can learn who did this, and prevent it from happening again."

"Excellent idea."

Gwyn looked at Faith. "I'm guessing you and I are going to have a chat with this other Fae?" she asked.

Faith shook her head. "I'm going to have a chat with the other Fae. You have to head back to your Keep and prepare for a possible Tuatha incursion…"

"Actually, until I hear back from my contact, I'm still technically on vacation." She looked at the Fae. "Besides, I can't turn away from a person in need. It goes against the very tenants of the Warsworn."

"...Alright, join the party. Healer, would you keep her company company while we're away?"

"Of course. Until she leaves the village, she is my patient."

"Thank you. Shall we, Gwyn?"

Gwyn nodded, grabbing her spear. Let's."

It didn't take long for Agarth to find the blood trail.

Admittedly, it took a longer than expected, as the fae had managed to keep herself from bleeding out for the most part. But she had been bleeding, and had left bloody footprints in her wake. Thankfully, Fae blood was a light blue color, which stood out against the dirt road. The two men followed it all the way to where the altercation truly took place.

Herc looked around. "Nanne's alchemy shop is over there," he noted, pointing over to one building in particular. "The fae probably saw a burglary in progress, and didn't get away fast enough. One of them came at her with a knife, and made contact. Then they all stated beating her. The question is, which house were they coming from?"

Agarth looked at the alchemy shop. "I think it might be obvious," he replied bluntly. "The shop." He walked over, taking a look around. "Strange… there's no damage to any of the windows or door. The door must have been unlocked."

Herc nodded, taking a look at the ground surrounding the area. "Nothing was disturbed. They stayed on the pathways, to minimize their impact." He sighed. "This had to have been organized. Nothing was left to chance."

"What about Nanne? If she's done an inventory of her shop, she should have a complete list of what was taken."

"… … It won't hurt to ask. She doesn't like it when people try to steal from her."

Nanne was, for a lack of a better word, extremely frightened.

When she had leaned that a fae had been found almost dead near the inn, she had gone into a blind panic. When she had found that her office and personal alchemal lab had been gone through (though thankfully not ransacked,) her panic had only grown.

However, a quick inventory had shown that nothing had been taken. Her store of ingredients hadn't been touched. Her vast cache of publicly potion formulas were all accounted for. The thieves had hopefully not found what they were looking for.

But the fear persisted. She was afraid because she had a feeling that she was missing something important. Or rather, something important was missing.

Nanne was a gnome, and was responsible for many of the greatest scientific discoveries in recent memory. She had become disgusted with how those discoveries were being used for, not to mention her own role in those discoveries. So much so that she eventually fled her posting, unable to stomach the world as a whole any longer. She came to Gorhart with her research, never to return to Odessa. She had hoped to make a fresh start.

And then this happened.

Before she could work herself back up to a right panic again, someone knocked on her door. "Come in!" she called out, getting her knife ready in case it was one of the thieves coming back to finish the job. To her immense relief, she was pleased to see that it was the head of the guards and Agarth. "Gentlemen, I'm happy to see you both."

Herc took a look around, sighing. "I see that you were indeed hit by thieves last night," he stated unsurprisingly. "It seems that the fae did see something she wasn't supposed to, after all."

Nanne sighed as well. "And I was afraid of the same thing," she admitted. "I just finished looking over my inventory. However, it looks like whatever they were looking for, they didn't find it. All of my stock and ingredients are accounted for."

"So why do you look like you're about to have a panic attack?" Agarth suddenly asked, looking at her shrewdly. "Do you know something else?"

"No, I don't… and while I take offense about your implying I was a part of this, my panic is that I'm missing something. I just don't know what it is, yet." She went over to a nearby chair, and sat down. "Agarth, I don't suppose your Fate Weaving could be used in criminal investigations."

Agarth had to smile wryly at that. "It's not that precise," he replied. "If it was, do you really think I would reading palms for a living."

Nanne shrugged. "Well, at least you won't have to worry about learning something you weren't supposed to… or didn't want to." She looked up. "I've heard something else, that Allestar Tower has collapsed from a Tuatha attack. Is this true?"

Herc nodded. "It is indeed, though we've heard that most of the people there were able to escape. One of them managed to make it here with Agarth."

Now that was something she hadn't known, and that brought a new slew of questions that did nothing to assuage her fear. If there were any survivors from the Tower and they recognized her… everything she had built here would be for nothing. They would try and have sent back to Odessa. All of her research would be confiscated, and it would be sent to kill more innocents…

Her research… a sudden thought occurred to her, and she shot up. "Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen." She ran up the stairwell to her bedroom, hoping she was just being paranoid.

Herc and Agarth looked at each other, confused. They had never seen her act like this before. Normally, she was angry when anyone tried to take anything from her. Most of those thieves didn't try a second time. She made sure of that.

It didn't take long for her to come back, her gaze hard. "Gentlemen… it appears that we need to talk. Something was stolen… something dangerous."

Now their look of confusion was tinged with a bit of worry. Nanne was someone who wasn't really worried about anything. What could be so terrible that it would make her so afraid?

Taking a deep breath, Nanne began to explain.

Faith had to admit; this was a much better walk than yesterday's. Of course, it might have something to do with the fact that she had boots that actually fit her, as well as the natural beauty surrounding them. It could also be because of the company.

Gwyn was quite knowledgeable about the Varani people that came before them, including where many of their most important cities used to be. Their method of construction had been well documented (if the outpost they had found themselves using had been of any indication.) And, thanks to the sword strapped to Faith's side, they now knew how they managed to keep their tools and weapons from rusting. Truly, one does learn something every day.

Faith grinned as the dokkalfar finally stopped to take a breath. "You know, you should probably retire from the Warsworn and become a teacher," she suggested. "I think you'd do very well in a classroom."

Gwyn chuckled a bit at that. "You know, you're not the first person to say that," she noted thoughtfully. "The Head of Helmgard Keep told me much the same thing, before practically begging me not to leave."

"Yeah, probably didn't want to end up doing your job."

Of course, there was a reason that they were talking about something other than what they were doing out here; it kept them from worrying about the young fae laying in the inn, possibly dying because of the hatred of people. It kept them from thinking about how close-minded the young races could be. And it kept them from thinking of what would happen if they failed.

But soon, they were forced to focus on other problems, especially when a few boggarts decided that they wanted to try and attack them for reasons. They weren't very dangerous, as they spent most of the fight twirling, cartwheeling, and making sounds that sounded suspiciously like laughter when either woman missed with a counterattack. What should have been a minute long battle turned into a twenty minute chase with frustration, and ended only when Faith finally stopped, turned around, tripped one of them, then slammed her fist into the face plate, causing the creature to fall apart. The rest of them immediately ran away.

Gwyn sighed as she shook her head, letting her body relax. "I hate boggarts," she grumbled. "They are rude, annoying, and dangerous in large groups if you're alone. But show that you can stand up to them, they'll just run away with their tails tucked between their legs."

"Do they even have legs?" Faith picked the head plate, looking it over in confusion. "What are boggarts, anyway? Plant, or simple magic? Because this one just fell apart after I hit it."

"You know… I don't think anyone has tried to find out. One of the last great mysteries in Amalur for the young races, because the Summer Fae aren't going to tell us anytime soon." She grabbed her spear, which she had had to drop. "Did any of them hit you?"

"No... it looks like one of them nicked you on the neck, though."

"Oh… hadn't noticed." She looked around, rubbing the tiny cut. "We have a more important problem, because we're lost."

Faith quickly looked around as well, not recognizing their current surroundings (big surprise there.) "Well, that is a fine pickle we've found ourselves in." If they couldn't keep a firm grasp of their surroundings, then trying to find one fae in the forest was a pipe dream, let alone getting back to Gorhart.

"Look, a Lodestone!" Gwyn suddenly exclaimed excitedly, pointing right behind her. "The Fae use them to record and retain their stories for future generations to listen to!"

Faith turned around to take in the sight of a large, oval shaped flat stone floating slightly over what could only be described as a support stand. Several strange symbols akin to runes were carved into the stone, pulsing with the faintest of lights. "Okay," she noted, upping her assessment of Gwyn's attention span and personality. She was really easily distracted by anything interesting, and didn't stay upset for long. "Okay… how does it work?" she asked, simply unable to help herself.

"Well, you touch it, and it will settle onto the stand. The magic stored within will then tell the story that is recorded on it. Scholars have managed to record most of them for posterity, but they aren't perfect translations. The Summer Fae agree with that, with a few helping out when they can. At least, they dd before the war started."

"Perfect. Now let's get back to why we're actually out here for. How do we find who we're actually looking for?"

"Who are you looking for?" a new voice suddenly asked behind her, spooking both women. Somehow, someone was able to sneak up to them without them even knowing about it. They both looked in that direction.

A young female fae was watching them from where she sat, head tilted inquisitively. She was same height as the injured fae. Her violet hair also seemed to be a little lighter as well. And, unless they were mistaken, she was most likely the very fae they were looking for. Meaning they had succeeded in their mission by complete accident.

The fae stood up and went over to them, inclining her head slightly. "My apologies for startling you, mortals," she said, looking Faith over for a moment as if assessing her. "My name is Aery."

Faith nodded. "I'm Faith."

"And I am Gwyn Anwy. A pleasure to meet you."

"Your faces are new to me. Very different from the dustlings living in Gorhart."

"We're kind of new around these parts." Best not go into detail about how new she was personally. "We're exploring the area." She gestured. "I'm guessing you're not here for just meditative purposes."

Aery nodded, smiling slightly. "The people of Gorhart amuse me, and I strive to learn all I can from them. But that is not why you are here, is it?" And just like that, the exact reason why they had been looking for her returned to the forefront. "Have you come to ask me about the Tuatha? I can offer what I know, and hope that it will suffice."

"...Actually, I will probably take you up on that, later. Can we assume that you are aware of the attack on your brethren from last night?" Gwyn asked.

"...Yes. I did indeed witness the attack, though I could not recognize the ones who attacked her. For most of us, it is difficult to distinguish one dustling from another at this distance." The fae sighed sadly. "Her name is Illuvia, though I only know her by name. And, as you have already assumed, she is a part of the House of Ballads."

"That's more information than we've had all day, so thank you." Faith frowned. "We were actually here looking for you because of that. Is there you can do to help her?"

"Unfortunately, I cannot. If she is meant for the Great Cycle, then so be it… However, I would be quite interested to find out if one of my kind would benefit from one of your mortal remedies. I have always wondered about that."

Faith thought about it for a second. The Healer had only had the most basic of healing potions at his disposal, and he had noted that fae bodies tended to be far more resilient to both damage and healing. "It would have to be pretty powerful, possibly even second tier level. The local alchemist would probably have one in stock."

"Yes. Your mortal frames are far more sensitive than ours. In fact, it's astounding that you survive for as long as you do."

"Yes, we're strange like that… Why don't you ever go down to Gorhart? I mean, aside from the obvious reason. Why simply watch from a distance?"

Aery sighed. "Considering what the Tuatha have done to the young races, I did not think that any fae would be welcome in a dustling settlement." Her gaze shifted back to the village. "It seems I was right,"she murmured sadly.

Faith and Gwyn shared a look of understanding and sympathy at that. To be so close, only to be stopped by human fear and hatred… it had to be quite galling. "Well, we'll leave you to it," the latter finally stated, "though I think Illuvia would feel a little better if there was a fellow fae there when she woke up."

That caught Aery's attention, and she looked as though she was giving it some serious thought. "Very well," she replied hesitantly. "I shall go to her, so she knows she hasn't been abandoned." She looked at them. "Could you escort me there? There are bandits that prowl this region, and they are not very selective with who they stalk."

"… … Certainly."

Faith smiled at the simple confirmation. Finally, things were looking up.